Tuesday, July 27, 2021

I want to go on working but I'm tired. And it's a nice thing; I love being enthused about what I do. 

I feel better. Probably because I did my usual compensative eating, which is a bad habit that's the reason I'm obese, but on the other hand it's wonderful to have something that soothes and calms me down when I'm stressed. And I don't want to view food as an enemy, or feel guilty for eating, every again. So for now I'm grateful. 

Today I made a field of daisies. But what's nicer is that the client is really warm and lovely. 

I also went through my Wall of Yay. Last year, when I told GetTheeHence I wanted to die, he said that doing stuff to help other people is a known method of - I don't know, something to live for. I was already streaming by then - to help people stuck in Covid quarantine - but I think I upped the portion of my life I dedicated to that, and the Wall of Yay is, in a way, my 'how it started, how it is now'. When someone tells me I generated a big, meaningful and good change in their life, I paste it there; and there's more than enough there to remind me there's stuff I enjoy living for.

I think I even more feel like living than not, now. Usually it's 'life's nice but I wouldn't object to a sudden death right now', whereas now, I don't know. I want to see Dad enjoy his gift in a month. I want to play silly shooters with him and brother. I want to see my students flourish - grow confident, know their worth, skilled and able to drive themselves forward, and making art they're happy with. I want to see Bearette in five years, when she's all of the above and brightening the world, not only my life and those of her closest. I want to visit Ray and Day. And somewhere, in a less important rank but still there, I want to spend a few months on the beach of a turquoise sea, eating tropical fruit and going back to my air-conditioned bungalow to the high-speed internet to get back to Blender work. I really, *really* want to spend that time lying in the sun. I miss the sun. I miss my brown skin, the sweat and the delight of a cold shower after. I very much crave that.

And I fear all the pain, but for now it's somehow possible to think of the nice stuff that could come rather than on the bad stuff that will. That's nice. 

It's amazing, what some compensative food can do to my mood. 

Monday, July 26, 2021

Having a fight with my best friend is scary. I can't remember what it felt like years ago, before I was coached, with the yelling and irrationality and ego; nowadays my fights are usually done in a soft voice, without attacking the other side, with lots of taking responsibility, being open to admitting mistakes, and acknowledging the other side's needs while forgiving them their own irrationalities. It doesn't work 100%, of course, but it's infinitely  - immeasurably - better than the blind, raw fights I was used to. 

Nonetheless, catch my bestie in a bad day and she can be snappy as well, and I was doing my best but I had one snap slip out, and then I was miserable for the rest of the day and the night and the following day, and kind of scared because, since the divorce and since I don't get out of the house, I only have the one friend. I mean, only one who is close, trusted, family. A person to call when I'm in need. There's also Ray and Day and Bearette, but they're in different continents. 

I almost wish I had a child. And I certainly wish I had a partner. It's so lonely and alone. 

Today I woke up in the afternoon, loudly said 'nope' to the living room, cancelled anything I had and spend the day on emotional sick leave, which is very similar to what I do every day, only with crying.

But I did twenty minutes of Beat Saber as soon as I woke up. When I did the Great Diet I walked 60 minutes a day. To do a walk, though, I need to put on trousers (I hate clothes) and shoes (I hate clothes) and a bra (I hate clothes) and to open the treadmill and set up the laptop in front of it, and then to endure chafing thighs. All of the above are the reason the treadmill is mostly a clothes hanger. With Beat Saber I put on a hat and grip two controllers in my hands and I'm ready to go.

Even better - while getting up, donning the VR set and doing twenty minutes of Beat Saber is easy, I find it's addictive enough, and easy enough, to get me excited to do it again during the day; so in the early evening I put it on again and did it as much as I wanted and that was fourty mintues more. Of standing up and mild aerobics. 

This is great. 

I think the body aches less. I'm so used to pain being a regular thing, but I think I'm less stiff, more flexible and agile, for the past couple of days. I set August 14 as my marker; that would be twenty one days, and until then I want to do at least 15 minutes of Beat Saber every day, and as much more as I feel like. This gives me hope. For my body not to feel like a garbage truck, and for losing some weight and regaining some physical independence.

Bestie called in the evening. Awesome person that she is. We discussed it. Clarified a few things, disagreed about a few things, agreed to disagree on those and apologized for hurting the other or snapping. It felt better after. But I'm still tense; will take time to get rid of. Also... alone and lonely. So scared. 

On the other hand, a student called me Blender Maestro today, which is absolutely not true, but hugely complimenting nonetheless. And I did some Blender support and now I'll go and try to relax with that commission and perhaps things will feel better.

Poopsie's mummy's little angel

I feel lonely and miserable and alone, because I had an argument with someone I love, and because, well, I'm lonely and alone - which is a matter of perspective, because I have some good 4-8 people who care about me very much, enjoy my company and spend time with me, but it's that sudden sinking feeling of one of them possibly fading away and me being a middle aged divorcee who lives on her own and who doesn't necessarily miss a significant other as much as she misses a life-partner. 

All that tearful stuff aside, I had a great day thanks to Poopsie, the VR set, which only Yamara readers will understand. I woke up this morning all eager and spent fifteen minutes with Poopsie, then a total of about two hours more throughout the day, all aerobics. I went from being convinced I'll have to do only half a song to doing five on the first day, then it's up to more than ten now. I thought I couldn't stand for so long, on account of back and feet protesting; but masked with adrenaline and serotonin I can't feel any pain - just energy and happiness. Tayeb, and some pain, but in the arms. From waving them all around.

Beat Saber is fun, but Pistol Whip is the crazy aerobics. Five minutes of that have my adrenaline pumping and can keep me awake like a cup of coffee. I can't believe it's only been three days, and my current state of mind is POOPSIE WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE?! so, you know, when I'm not worried about the loneliness thing I'm having a blast. 

I'm also lazily taking commissions, to avoid burning out again. And reading some really long Harry Potter fanfic - I can't believe I'm a regular fanfic reader now - and mainly giggling like a mad imp at getting off my chair at half past four in the morning because I can't resist another round of Beat Saber. 

This is very encouraging. I went from 'fine, I'm a cripple' to 'oh, fudge, there's actually hope?' in three days. I really need to buy more batteries.

I don't want to go to bed. But it's Coaching Monday tomorrow; I probably should. I just... don't know how to avoid the thoughts which I'm afraid to process.

Saturday, July 24, 2021

What does one need a VR for, Precious?

For a penniless person living off dad's financial aid and what meagre money I get with commissions or coaching - streaming is wonderful, but it's unreliable and tends to come in bursts - I'm embarrassed to say how well I live; because in my standards, I'm living like a queen. I'm not even talking internet, electricity and vegetables; I'm talking about the idiocy of owning an espresso machine, owning which always strikes me as the pinnacle of all rudenesses when it comes to penniless living - and now a VR set. Dad insisted on the coffee machine some three years ago, and Day insisted on the VR, and I can only be humbly grateful for having friends like that. And I didn't even think of a VR set - I mean, really; I should see to paying the municipality tax first. 

The second hand VR set Day got me arrived yesterday, and we got to test it today, together. We wandered the earth in Google Earth, from his old memories to the new, to my requests; we saw penguins and the Normandy beach, Petra and Mont Saint-Michel, volcanos and snows and lakes, and, were I not shy, I'd go on requesting the entirety of the tropics, the depths of Africa, the Amazon forest, Iceland, Rome - my god, it's in incredible feeling. 

And then we hang up because my head was spinning a little, and I thought, oh, well, just one round of Beat Saber, and suddenly it's been two more hours and my arms hurt. I couldn't keep standing - I'm far too heavy to stand, and fifteen minutes or so are my limit - but I wanted to keep on dancing so much that I did it in the chair. For an hour and a half. And I had to force myself to stop. 

Beat Saber has high-paced music with shiny bricks flying at you, which you have to smash with two light sabers you're holding. And it's awesome. And addictive, and fun, and I just want to go to sleep so I can wake up and do it again. 

I never even knew I wanted something like this. 

I can't wait to tour the world with Day and Ray. And on my own. And to dance until my arms drop. 

...And to find out if I can travel Skyrim with this. Oh, god. Oh.

Wednesday, July 21, 2021

One upside I really love about being a fat, middle-aged, rumpled-haired person: I can totally facilitate the harmless aunty persona to compliment people. Nobody thinks you're hitting on them if you start by saying 'honey, you could be my son so please don't think I'm weird, I only want to compliment you - you're so handsome!' I swear, if there wasn't social distancing I'd also pinch them in the cheek to emphasize the granny-ness of it. And I loved the warm, happy smile of the grocery guy - I think he's in his mid twenties - when I told him that. Sometimes being old and unattractive can really feel great.

It's also great when you walk down the street and nobody wolf-whistles, cat-calls, tells you vulgar things about your breasts or ass, or, heaven forbit, touches those parts. My fat is literally a shield, and while it often makes me miserable, it also makes me feel safe. Odd. And also nice, to have something good about it. 
My mood's awesome! But I'm knackered and Schpritzied and am going to happily crawl back to bed and snuggle and sleep and wake up refreshed. Yesyes.

Tuesday, July 20, 2021

I did got o bed last night, but couldn't fall asleep and got out of it after two hours, half grumpy and half resolved to make something out of the sleepless time I've been given - and it ended up far nicer than I could expect: I said, on my art school server, that I was bored and if anyone wants a commission; I got one from a client I like and that kept me busy until midday; then Bearette was up and we were both knackered but she said 'so, are you going to make a picture of that little girl from Edoras' and my brain was suddenly flooded with energy and I've been preparing and rigging said girl for nine hours now because I am the slowest slow in all of slowland but she's nearly done and I can't wait to depict her.

And that's awesome, not only because there's too many Lotro npcs that deserve true appreciation, but also because rather than ruining the sleep cycle by going to sleep during the day, Bearette and inspiration kept me engaged to the point that I forgot to eat - or drink, oh, fudge, there goes my skin again - and now it's half past nine in the evening; optimally, I'd pull an hour and a half more - but I'm not sure I will. 

...I'm just eager to get up all fresh and get back to the two pictures I'm working on, that commission and the child. 

אבל הכי מצחיק זה להגיד כרובית, ואת זה אפילו אי אפשר לתרגם.
Very tired means compensative shopping. Which is better than compensative eating - I had the tastiest fresh vegetables earlier today and am as un-hungry as a happy-stomached person can be - but I'm telling myself I'm not horribly grumpy on account of being so tired again, aaaaaand anyway that was almost a hundred dollars I absolutely don't have tossed at Aliexpress. 

But I'm excited about it because it's a lot of things I really want. Like a doorbell. And a box to mount the router on the wall, rather than have it constantly knocked off the table. And glue to stick it on the wall, although now that I think about it, I have epoxy (I love epoxy. I love glue in general, which might sound perverse, but I suspect any art and design student ends up with some degree of fondness for weird crafting materials). And I got two super extra huge and cheap house dresses because the ones I have are worn and ripped in places, and wearing unkept clothes feels gross; two folding boxes to store what Aliexpress claims should be underwear but I'm going to use for scarves; And the guilty pleasure - a bouquet of what I hope is good looking artificial roses. Flowers always make me feel nice. 

And now, fudge my life, I'm going back to sleep. Grump, grunt and rant.

Oh, ffs, body! I got up at 16:00, had a coffee at 18:30 and still get knackered at 22:00. What the heff.

Monday, July 19, 2021

A wonderful day

My days range from 'not bad' to 'nice!' with a visit from 'great' at least thrice a month, but today was one of the best this year. 

I kept failing at sitting my ass down to write the coaching material - I failed for weeks. Ended up finding what works for me - a real life work date. Not zoom, not Discord; here, in my place. So Ghouls arrived at nine in the morning - some six hours earlier than my normal waking up time - and she worked and I, thank the heavens and the Ghouls, worked. I did my research and school material review and just wrote the thing. And that was wonderful. 

I was bored so I took a commission, the first one in many months, and the client is someone I love. It's wonderful. 

Then I splurged on fresh vegetables and fruit, that have really grown stupid expensive this year - I spent 70$, but got wonderful fresh produce that will last for a week, and that was wonderful; and then I had fresh radish and cucumber salad, with olive oil, rock salt and a generous dash of lime for lunch, and it was so tasty and that, too, was wonderful.

Then the stream, which was small but had so many people I like; and Mammabearmamma got the gift book I sent her and it turns out she loved it, I could hear her excitement; and that was wonderful. 

And someone new on our server had some bad stuff that can't be fixed happen to them, and I couldn't think of anything that could be done to help at all, but then I asked server people if they felt like doing something nice for a someone down on their luck, and some fifteen said yes. We each made them a simple picture, and I delivered them today and that person was very touched, as was their family (!) and their older relative contacted me to say it was touching, and that was wonderful because despite all odds, we did make a little difference; we made someone's day a little less dark. And the older relative asked to print some of the gifted art to be put on their wall. So we helped. And that was wonderful. 

And now I'm looking at names of my community people chatting in our voice lounge and forming connections, maybe becoming friends, maybe making contacts that will last after I'm gone, or the server; and that, too, is wonderful. 

So the stream ended and I could leisurely pick and choose between the beautiful, fresh fruit on my kitchen side, and I made an apple, a peach and some grapes into a fruit salad, added some yogurt, fresh mint leaves and a few walnuts, ate it all and am feeling like a rich sultan's daughter. And it felt nice and fresh and lavish and tasty; and that was wonderful. 

Friday, July 16, 2021

Cleaning the desktop is going well. I reduced the items in the Clean me, Seymore! desktop folder to only eight, and while at it I blitzed the In Progress folder that was hiding somewhere - which was the former 'Clean me, Seymore' folder, some six years ago - and it all feels much more tidy, and I'd be even happier about this if I could find the one file that sparked all this, namely the Wall Of Yay, which is where I keep messages that remind me of why I like being alive: thank you messages from students and people I coached, community members and so on. It's my guilty, secret place, and I hope that one day I'll be able to document and reminisce on those as Gollumly as I do the things that hurt me. 

I just found a tiny baby cockroach crawling on my desk
I can't even
how the fudge
What was that extermination even for
and a tiny one means some mama cockroach had a litter nearby
oh fml, what was that I said about 'I like being alive'? Scratch that, whaaaa


Previously on Bell Sleeps: I sleep far too much since that Covid thing, sometimes as much as 20 hours a day, so recently I've taken to having one day a week where I drink three cups of coffee over 30 hours and enjoy the productivity. I did that on Tuesday and it was glorious, and after 35 hours I went to bed and I fell asleep without getting to turn the reading light off, or even remember anything. That, too, was glorious; the kind of sleep I used to have before age 30. Go to sleep, never wake up during the night, wake up some 7-10 hours later fully refreshed. Glo.Ri.Ous.

Someone on our server is having some serious bad luck and said nothing about it on the server, which is what really caught me. I asked community people who feel like it to make them a simple gift picture, and many are on it - my gang of incredible people - and I made two, one because I felt like showcasing the character and another because I wanted the picture to relate to what they're going through. I'll post them here after we all give the gifts to the person.

And I'm cleaning my desktop, all the mess in my Clean me, Seymore folder on the desktop because, as these things always do, it became a junkpile. It's mainly moving files from where I forgot them on the desktop to where I can forget about them in the bowels of the hard drive, but if it's not in my face I can more easily forget it exists. 

Like this, from a few weeks back:

It's just that so many of them remind me of mum. She'd have loved each one of those. Even the one with the tigers and the flamingos. 

I'll go back to sorting things. I have a stream tomorrow, and art-Saturday, and on Sunday Ghoula should be over and then I will fucking do that writing and prepare that lecture I swear to heaven Ray I have no idea why I can't get my ass down to write this but at least by that time, hopefully, I'll have a clean desktop. Yes.

Tuesday, July 13, 2021

It's been a long while since I cleaned a Warcraft model. The simple, classic start of any Warcraft picture. I enjoy it. 

What I don't enjoy is waking up at 17:00, coaching until 19:00, then being too tired to do anything useful and going to bed at midnight. Buuuut I have a doctor's appointment in two days; maybe that will help. 

<grump> I'm going to bed. 

Monday, July 12, 2021

I fixed the broken cupboard
Cleaned the shelves within, checked the dry goods for insects and re-arranged it all neatly inside
Cleaned and fixed the toilet seat
Tackled the stain on the chair with vinegar and dish soap
Cleaned the sink
Spent two hours giving an old friend a Blender lesson
Spent two hours giving a new friend a Blender lesson
Put some corn bread to bake (hope it turns out decent)
Put some textures to bake in Blender and failed to get anything useful from it for two hours
Bumped into a Perfect Gift for someone on my server and sent it over


That was yesterday. Then I had weird dreams about being cast out of a trusted friend's house by his mum, whom I loved irl - and it was stressful, because she told me I had to leave before eight as the guests arrived at eight, but I had no chance of packing everything by that time - and I didn't want to leave a mess - and why would I be living in Ygg's place? And why would his mum, a very sweet, intelligent and kind person, be the person doing that in my dream? I can't think of anything I am made to leave in a hurry in real life, but usually my dreams are pathetically simple in their symbolism. I wonder what this is about.

...And, as it is in all my dreams, it was always evening, and all I wanted to do was go to the beach and enjoy the sea, and... 

I woke up grumpy and uneasy from the dream, and grumpily and uneasily cleaned the house a bit - the Elfgineer is coming to be coached in my place tomorrow, for the first time since the pandemic started - and I nrrrgs and mmrrghd and grumpily connected the camera for the stream, and was planning on streaming making a gift for a server person who's a bit down on their luck - 

But the stream was lovely, and having had to brush my hair and look presentable was lovely, and Jesse raided me with his own crowd of very nice people, and a couple of celebrities I rather admire, and I got to help a student solve a technical problem, feedback another, and personally thank a couple of people for their work which I love. And there was a really nice newcomer to the stream who seems friendly and positive and open and enthused and they, along with the above, made my day. And for dessert I had a chat with an old-client-turned-friend and we discussed personal things and he showed me his own creative stuff, which inspired me, so I'm happy.

And the Elfgineer can't come tomorrow - his lady has been exposed to Covid so he's quarantined - which, while means I won't be able to hug him, means I won't have to put on uncomfortable clothes or frantically clean the house before he arrives, which only adds to my happiness.

And last - the two friends I taught Blender to yesterday shared what they made; one made a spaceship and a strange elemental creature, the other modeled a beautiful pair of high-heel shoes, and I'm just sitting here, knowing I have one percent of influence on their creative endeavors and grinning with joy.

Ze happy; it is

Friday, July 9, 2021

It was a tiny stream, intimate and lovely, with lots of art pieces feedbacked; it ended mostly because I started feeling my throat protesting for all this talking, and left me happy, drained and braindead; not unlike running a tabletop game session, or performing on a stage. And I never thought I'd say it, but I crave a braindead game on my pc, something like finding hidden objects or other somesuch cute idiotic stuff to help my brain decompress. 

Then again, I slept seven hours tonight - which is awesome, and lovely, and I'm grateful as it's exactly half of what I usually sleep - and I'm getting this pleasant tiredness which indicates the possibility of a really nice night's sleep. I might even indulge in a glass of wine tonight; it feels appropriate.
A day in which I didn't oversleep is already a success. 

Off to bed at seven in the morning, up at two in the afternoon - I'm a happy chipmunk and I feel rich with delightful troves of time. Showered; set up OBS for the stream; ignored the new computer in its box; life is good. 
The stresses of last week are gradually, beautifully fading. My emotional reaction to talking to someone about something they did was high magnitude; I'm not sure what helped, but perhaps just making the decision to not be in contact with them anymore helped. I can't say I feel entirely peaceful about this, but it's an improvement over the past two months, where I've been strung out about it. 

I had to tell several people on the server that something they did wasn't accepted, and they took it so well I was impressed, happy and humbled. 

The new computer is lurking behind me in its box and I'm loudly ignoring it and refusing to do any computer switching until I feel like it. Good old Tulkas served me sweetly for almost a decade, I can happily use him a few more days.

And I finished preparing a Lord of the Rings Online model of a character I really love and care for - oh, I miss the days I felt that way about Warcraft! I really hope they get it back one day - and have been stuck with what picture to make with her; it happened to me with the Elrond model as well. Ray asked me 'what sentiment do you want her to express?' and broke through my block enough for me to try not only answering this question, but also a different attitude - going through my Inspiration folder and copying any picture that has something that suits my current one: atmosphere, lighting, brush strokes, pose, expression. Now I have a proper inspiration board, and another excuse to use PureRef, and it makes working more exciting. 

Except! That I'm dying for a smoke! Heavens, it's been seven months! Nnnngggah! Stop! Craving! The smoke, brain! Enough! 

(I'll make some tea. Another one of Ray's ideas - do the ritual, satisfy the brain's need for one, plus some oral satisfaction; might help). 

I'd totally go back to smoking, but it's simply not been fun since that first round of Covid; plus I'm not particularly keen on getting back into a habit which is harmful, makes the house filthy, damages my computer and is expensive. And it's nice to not cough. But oh, do I miss it or what.


I shared my worries and guilt about having a new computer with Ray and Day. Ray addressed the logical-emotional aspect with 'it's your main source of income' etc, which I knew wouldn't help, but Day, bless his technical soul, compared the two specs and gave me a fifteen minute long technical explanation about why it's great, and why the difference is crucial, and made me feel a lot better; and now I tried to render my current picture - on the old computer, the new is still in its box, thinking about what it's done - with 150 samples on 300%, which would usually crash Blender on this computer, and even as I said 'in before you crash' it crashed, which makes me feel all the less guilty about having spent the money on the boxed wonder behind me. 

In the meantime there's Render Street, which is far less costly since the whole eevee thing, bless its soul.

I had coffee in the middle of the night again, which worries me about growing dependent, but for now I'm awake and happy and rendering a picture of a character I've loved for almost a decade, and I see no reason to ruin that with Worries About Tomorrow. I also had every good intention about listening to the whole album and, again, ended up with And Yet in a loop, which really shows some things don't change. 

I should set up OBS for tonight's stream, and clean things around so I can avoid being stressed before the stream; but I just realized what I really crave is a shower, so I might end up doing that - while basking in the forbidden pleasure of having had a coffee and feeling so nice and awake when there's sunlight outside. This is lovely.

Wednesday, July 7, 2021

Four in the morning is a notorious hour in songs, mostly referring to loneliness and contemplation. For me, however, it's often the equivalent of early afternoon, but, being used to four in the morning normally viewed as 'really late' I always feel guilty and that I should go to bed already; to make sure tomorrow isn't a total waste.

But tomorrow usually is a total waste, because I'm not tired so I spend three hours reading in bed (or overthinking, in less lucky nights) before falling asleep, only to wake up at around four in the afternoon to a mostly-wasted day; because I love sunlight, and my usual partners for spending the day - be it in coaching, studying, teaching, arting or playing - would have to go to sleep some seven hours after that. 

But tonight I had an eureka moment - I'm having my strong coffee right now, at four in the morning; with some luck, I'll manage to remain awake until tomorrow evening, and have both a productive night and a productive day.

'Productive' is a day where I either working a bit on the Coaching project Ray's encouraging me to embark on, or made art. Somehow streaming and coaching don't feel like progress right now.

While my mood is alright, I feel stuck in many aspects: insecure as a coach, very bad as a businesswoman, daunted by the current streak of removing people I don't like from my life, and still troubled by my Gollum tendency to cling to past grievances, real or subjective. I learnt to mitigate my anger and not express is in a harmful way, but I haven't learnt to simply let it happen and then let it go, and I'd like to. 

In short, I think my next streaming tip jar goal is going to be 'Business counselling', or at least presented as such, because while it's also that, it's mainly well-being counselling, or therapy, and I don't want to put 'therapy' as my public goal; it feels like pity-milking. 

But 'Business counselling' sounds nice and non-emotional, and while I wish she didn't change 140$ per session, my coach certainly deserves it. I'll have to save money for a while, and hope I get a few more coachees, and then embark on this. I rather wish I hadn't gotten a new computer but rather went for this, now. 

About the new computer, however - the shop confirmed that the processor was faulty and replaced it; meanwhile I'm using the old computer, which seems to be fine, if a creaking cartwagon as usual; the shop person truly appreciated my pre-emptive apologizing ("I'm infuriated but I'm aware none of this is your fault, and I'm doing my best not to take it out on you, please forgive me if I sound aggressive and I apologize in advance") and gave me the low-tech graphics card I asked to buy for free as an apology for the whole mess, and generally I can confirm, again, that being polite and respectful gets you much more peace of mind than enraged yelling.

I also did the dishes and, having found insects in the dry goods cabinet, took everything out of there, binned the likely candidates and left the rest out for inspection, and, having spent a few hours making art with Bearette today, I can declare it Not A Wasted Day, which is the best in my book.

Is also the best since I avoided carbs, meaning I'll be less in pain tomorrow, and by the heavens I should stop having sugar or gluten altogether - life's so much nicer when I'm feeling physically well. The more I try that bargain the more I think gluten isn't worth it. 

I finished my coffee! I'm off to delightfully wrestle with that Lord of the Rings Online model I've been slowly working on for the past three months, on and off, and hopefully time will pass quickly until midday - until Bearette wakes up - and we can resume working together. I really missed making art.

Monday, July 5, 2021

Tzemer dropped by, checked New Computer and deemed it a hardware issue; New Computer is now in the lab belonging to the shop it was bought from, and good old Tulkas has been reinstated on my desk. Tulkas is around nine years old, but, having spent two days without a computer at all, the fact he's slow and has only 8m of memory seems inconsequential. I'm just so happy to have him back. 

Also, since I formatted him, he's fast and smooth and responsive now, which makes me think I don't need a new computer at all. I mean, what, so it can faster calculate shaders in Blender? Run physics faster? That would be lovely; but I'm not sure it's 1500$ worth of lovely. 

This computer dance means I reinstalled three computers in as many days, which makes me all the more clingy to my sweet Tulkas, what with his functioning Calendar, disabled volume overlay (fuck you, intrusive Windows 10 bullshit) and neatly iconed Start Menu shortcuts. I could snuggle him simply for not random-rebooting. 

I spent yesterday anxiously reinstalling Lord of the Rings Online, a game so old it requires DirectX 9 (and no more) to run, that tends to crash when you change resolutions or alt tab, unless you do some pagan ballet of running the program in compatibility mode (never heard of it before) and then, while in the loading screen, changing modes, calling Eru's name and sacrificing a black goat, and only then can one safely change graphics to a higher mode. Then I installed the thing that lets me get Lotro models, which required three more hours of internet digging and problem solving, because it's mildly old, was written by someone whose native language isn't English, is not updated and triggers some 'hey, I am missing an dll file' error from Windows. That took more digging, some downloads and testing, some frantic backing-up of everything I did in case this, too, sends my computer into a reboot loop, and finally it worked and I could rejoice and relax.

...Until I coached today and realized I'm so derpy I have no idea how to get Windows 10's Calendar app again (turns out it's not built in and needs to be downloaded, duh) but imagine the stress of having five things scheduled and no calendar to write them down in - I'm embarrassed to say how stressed it got me, and now I have to pretend I'm not post-stress yearning for a smoke. I did indulge in some post stress eating yesterday, which included a load of fresh fruit, which are full of sugar, meaning Ye Good Old Shpritzie, my bane of an abdominal pain, woke me up in the middle of the night and had me trademark grumpy for the rest of the day. Boy, am I happy I know the cause and no longer spend days on end agonizing and grumpy without any prospect of a pain-free day. 

All that said, I'm still really happy. I have a functioning computer, it's clean even if it's old, and I spent an entire day making art - it's been ages since I did that, and suddenly I wonder how and when my life changed like that; I used to get up to full-day art making every day, for years. I think it's the streaming - I'm more of a teacher than an artist nowadays, and barring the roleplaying with Bearette, I have little inspiration. But the other day was full art making in good company, and I finished a picture and am very happy with the prospect; and there's many lovely things to look forward to, and many lovely things right now - like the clean computer, tinkering with lotro models and problem-solving for my students. I'm lucky and happy.

Friday, July 2, 2021

רשומה ממורמרת ששינתה כיוון באמצע במפתיע

כל העניין הזה עם המחשב החדש נהיה פחות מבדר כשיותר ויותר נראה שהוא פשוט תקול ברמת החומרה, וזה הולך לעלות עוד כסף, ועוד תסכול, ולהשאיר אותי בלי מחשב לכמה ימים. כרגע אני ממורמרת ושונאת אדם כי אני ערה 24 שעות ומתוכן בערך עשרים אני מתעסקת בנסיונות לתקן את המחשב - אבל אני די בטוחה שאחרי שינה טובה הרעיון של כמה ימים בלי מחשב יהיה פחות מרגיז ויותר נחמד. אחרי הכל, השעמום הוא אבי המצאות מרובות, והבית שלי מלא דברים לעשות כשאין לי בלנדר להתחפר בו. 

ביטלתי את הסטרימים לימים הקרובים - זה לא כאילו אני יכולה להסטרים באמצעות המקרר - ואגב המקרר, גם הוא תקול ואני מנתקת אותו מהחשמל לחמש שעות פעם בשבוע פק"ל כדי להפשיר את הקרח שמצטבר על הצינור של המאייד, שהוא, כך סיפר לי האינטרנט, הסיבה הנפוצה למקרר שעושה רעש אימים, וזו אפילו לא הגזמה. ומרגע שביטלתי את הסטרימים אני פחות לחוצה, כי המעשה כבר נעשה ואין מה לעשות מלבד ללכת לישון ואז לקום ו, נגיד, לנקות את הבית. או להישאר במיטה ארבעה ימים עם ספר מעאפן, טרה לה לה לה לה. 

הנציג מהחנות כמובן מיד האשים את כרטיס המסך, שהוא הרכיב היחיד שלא רכשתי בחנות אלא העברתי מהמחשב הקודם. דא עקא שכרטיס המסך תפקד שבע שנים ללא רבב, וקצת מוזר שבדיוק ביום בו הוא הותקן במחשב חדש הוא התקלקל. לנציג עוד הייתה החוצפה לומר "שבע שנים זה הרבה זמן לכרטיס מסך, זה הגיוני שהוא הסיבה" ואני, קואוצ'רית שכמותי, לא נכנסתי איתו לוויכוח כי מצד אחד זה לא יעזור, ומצד שני זה יעשה אותי הרבה יותר ממורמרת ונרגנת, ומה אני צריכה את זה עכשיו; כמאמר האנשים הפראקטיים, אני לא דופקת את המצברוח שלי עכשיו כי אתה מעאפן ולך תקעווד, יא טינף. 

ההוא אמר שלפנים משורת הדין, ובגלל שהמחשב באמת נקנה לא כל כך מזמן (כן, מותק, לפני תשעה ימים) הוא מוכן לשלוח מישהו ביום ראשון לאסוף את המחשב ולבדוק מה קורה איתו, אבל שאני צריכה לפרק ממנו את כרטיס המסך וההארד דיסקים. זה בטח משהו שאני יכולה לעשות, אבל אני חוששת לפגום במשהו ואז הלכו חמשת אלפים שקלים שאין לי, ואם הייתי רוצה לפרק מחשבים לא הייתי מבלה את מרבית חיי בלימודי פרספקטיבה ואנטומיה, אז אני יכולה להזמין טכנאי בשביל השטות הזו, או לקוות שצמר יהיה פנוי מחר לבוא ולהציל את כבודי באמצעות פירוק שבעה עשר ברגים (ספרתי), או לשכוח מכל העסק הזה וללכת פאקינג לישון, וזה בדיוק מה שאעשה. 

אבל לפני סיום, התבשמות: צמר - שמכיר אותי 25 שנה, שיצאתי איתו שנה בגיל עשרים המטורלל, שהכיר אותי היטב היטב בעשרים השנה בהן הייתי מאיצה מאפס למאה (מילותיו שלו) עם נרווים וצעקות, אמר שזה ממש לא להאמין איך אני היום, וזו מותק של מחמאה, והוא צודק - כי אפילו על טורים ואדי שינה כמו עכשיו, פתחתי את השיחה עם הנציג של החנות בהתנצלות, לאמור - התקוטטתי עם המחשב כל הלילה ואני לחוצה וגועלית ואני רוצה שתדע שאני יודעת שזה לגמרי לא אשמתך ולא מגיע לך, ושאני משתדלת מאד שזה לא יצא עליך, אבל אם מתפלק לי איזה נרוו אני מתנצלת מאד מראש. אחר כך הייתה שיחה, ובסופה שוב התנצלתי, למקרה שנשמעתי כועסת, והבחור אמר "לא, דווקא היית בסדר גמור", ללמדכם שכבוד לזולת אולי לא מייצר מחשבים שעובדים, אבל ללא ספק עושה את האינטראקציה הרבה פחות טעונה והרבה יותר ידידותית. לתשומת לב הקורא מיציני, שלא קורא פה, ושבחודשיים האחרונים מייצג עבורי את השמנופוביה הסנובית בצורה כל כך מוחלטת שזה לגמרי לא פייר. כלומר, מיציני באמת מעצבן והכל, וחסר רגישות באותה רמה שאני חסרת טאקט, ואולי חסר איכפתיות (אני לא יודעת, ואני מתכננת לשאול אותו כדי להבין, אם יצא לנו לדבר) - אבל עם כל זה, הוא לא באמת הגורם לכל צרותיהם של כל שמני תבל. וזה חבל, כי אני כל כך כועסת עליו שדווקא הייתי רוצה להאשים אותו בכל זה ואז לדרוך לו על הרגל ממש חזק ולהגיד לו שהוא מתנהג כמו שמוק. אבל זה פשוט לא מגיע לו. והוא גם מותק הרבה פעמים, ומי מאיתנו לא עושה טעויות מדי פעם? ומי מאיתנו לא פגום בצורה זו או אחרת, או סובל מתכונה או כמה שעושות אותנו קשים לעיכול לכמה מסובבינו? המיציני ראוי לדריכה בריאה על כף הרגל, איפה שכואב שמה, בבהונות, אבל אם ככה אז גם אני כי אני לא יודעת להפסיק לשאול דברים אישיים נורא כשזה כבר מפריע לאנשים, ואולי גם כי למרות מיטב נסיונותי בפנים אני פולניה קורבנית ומתבכיינת ולפענים זה מתפלק לי למרות כל הנסיונות להתנהג יפה. אז המיציני מוזמן לדרוך לי חזק על הרגל בחזרה אם ממש בא לו, מה שרק מוכיח שלפחות במקרה הזה, יד (או רגל) השמנה על העליונה. 

התכוונתי לרטון ויצאה לי רשומה מפייסת כזו על המיציני ועל עצמי ובכלל, ועמדתי לכתוב 'אז אני מניחה שלא הכל נאחס' ואז נזכרתי שאולי אין לי מחשב אבל יש לי משפחה וחברים ותלמידים והשראה ובריאות וגג ומיזוג אוויר ואוכל לא רע וטפו טפו טפו, וזה. אפילו רשומה ממורמרת כהלכתה אני לא מסוגלת להוציא כבר. אין ברירה אלא ללכת לישון.  

New computer adventures, day #3

Lotro was problematic, which was solved by installing some directX thing, but then the computer started to spontaneously crush and reboot at random. Software says it's not overheating. Friend checks crush reports and deems its a case of missing motherboard drivers. I download three, and upon installing the second - the Realteck sound one - the computer spirals into chain rebooting with the occasional downright shutting down. Attempting Safe Mode failed, so I can't uninstall the sound driver or the directX things, as there's no way to access the computer. Contemplating retiring to live a king in Patagonia.

Thursday, July 1, 2021


Today was spent mostly fiddling with the sound settings, struggling with the audio software I don't know but Tzemer swears by, and, under the surface being enraged - aka hurt - about someone saying harmful things about unhealthy weight gain. I was boiling quietly on that for a while, pretending I wasn't, and therefore I didn't know why I was miserable all day; I didn't even know I was miserable, because I pretended I wasn't, and thought I was grumpy. And that it might be a sensitive time of the hormonal cycle or something. 

But it exploded somewhen in the evening and I said my peace - not yelling or wailing, just... telling; and it was like magic - five minutes later I felt so much better. Seriously, when will I learn to simply give it the space it needs and be free of it rather than pretend it's not there and feel some serious meh for days, weeks and months on end? I feel so much better.


I finished a Blender piece, which is a rare occasion these days - either because I'm more busy teaching, or because, without taking commissions or being inspired by roleplaying, and Warcraft not being to my liking in its current phase, there's little cause to make art. Or because my head and time are elsewhere: the exciting time of sharing Middle Earth with Bearette are a more fun pastime than blendering, right now. 

And I've been working on this picture, on an off, since January. It feels nice to complete it after all this time; it's a gift to someone I think highly of, even if I'm not sure she gets how much. 

My friend likes her characters pretty and sexy, but this one's a Zandalari troll shaman and I got too excited depicting her doing something over-the-top, pulp-like heroic, Conan style. So barehanded, wrestling a tiger in the rain, and good taste be damned. And this makes me happy. 

It's also a take on the Tarot depiction of the Strength card, where it's usually a woman holding a lion. And 'strength' really reminds me of that friend; she's very brave, and also too strong for her own good. Wrestling a tiger barehanded, yes? Yes.


The Miffmachine - the new computer, dainty, rainbow-colour lit and far smaller than the older one - isn't yet home; but I installed Warcraft on it, which went flawlessly, and Lotro, which is fucking up so royally it's getting me annoyed. People, I pay a monthly fee and I'm happy to throw money at you, but for heaven's sake, make the game's own installation work! There's forum threads going back to 2017 with the issue I'm bumping into now, with various redneck engineering options for solutions, and others complex; none worked, and my game crashes whenever I try to change the graphics settings. That's really annoying, and I'll have to look more into it tomorrow.

The computer runs a heavy mesh cloth simulation with self collision far faster than my last one, and opening a folder no longer takes long minutes. By and by I'll make this machine my own, then arrange the office space around it, desks, cables and all, to make it homey and cute the way I like, and that will be lovely. And now I'm going to bed, and that will be lovely too. 

Wednesday, June 30, 2021

I believe I have OBS, although I'll need to test it with Tzemer tomorrow. I'm tempted to say it's time for the fancy sound software he likes so much, but it's late; I might call it, now that the essentials are done.

Tomorrow - Blender, Lotro, Warcraft, WMV, Wow Export, Steam. It's a long way to Mordor.
Now is when I wail about having formatted that old system drive before realizing I had to backup the appdata folder and now my OBS scenes are gone. On the other hand, it's about time I learnt to make those on my own. 
The ancient Photoshop is installed! On to OBS!
That took some digging and troubleshooting, but VideoEditor is finally up!
Oh shit, VideoEditor!
Old system drive has been formatted and it feels awesome. Now I have to see if my OBS works. And install that ancient Photoshop. And then... all... the... rest... at least Blender is the easiest ease in all of easeland to install. 

<Rolls sleeves up> Alright, here we go! Installing time!
Tzemer named my new hard drive 'Bewbs' and now I'm stuck with it, just like the old one was called 'Puzzi' for seven years.

Welcome, MiffMachine

The new computer, a birthday gift from my students and streaming crowd, has been delivered last week and installed today by Tzemer, who must regret that year we dated in 1998, because he's installed all my computers ever since. Today was the usual - comfortable chatting, lots of laughs, references, idiocy, twenty-years-old internal jokes, quotes and completing each others' sentences. In between he'd installed The Miffmachine (working title) and now I'm sitting in the familiar mess of cables and doing the stupid, aka formatting the old hard drives instead of picking up where I left. Because dude, I don't want to carry that mess on into another computer, even if it means crying when I discover I uninstalled something you can't get anymore. Like IrfanView.

Right now I'm copying Warcraft and Lotro to a temporary folder and will the do the purifying ritual of Format C or the modern equivalent of, and will later whine about lost things. 

It's half past midnight; let's see how much of this I manage to do before I get too tired.

Monday, June 28, 2021

Today was awesome productive - I did the Responsible Adult for a few hours and by the heavens, it's satisfying - not to mention the floor being swept and washed, the toilet clean, the taxes paid and the post office parcels collected - then a bite-sized Lucky time, a bite-sized stream, an hour of private art teaching with the awesome French kid and an even bite-sizeder bit with Bearette. And I have a that blood test in six hours, but I wanted to have that note on, again, for how nice it is to actually do things.

And Jesse from The Lost Codex convinced me that Nathanos Blightcaller's writing is actually decent? What the fudge?! There's a stream meme down the drain, and there's me being curious and almost excited about the character again. Well done, sir Jesse, well done! 

And now... bed.

Saturday, June 26, 2021

Are sugar and gluten the reason I'm tired all the time?

You know those moments where you have an embarrassing suspicion that the reason something crappy is happening is actually your own doing? I don't mean in the global we are the architects of our own fate and karma is a bitch sense, I mean in a very down-to-earth manner. 

That is to say, I've been bone-tired for months and months, and I remain full days in bed. I also resumed consuming sugar and gluten even though they cause me physical pain, because if I know what's causing the pain I'm not worried about it, and sometimes a good meal is worth it. 

But what if I'm so tired all the time because I'm constantly in pain? I mean, we already know that pain, physical or other, is an energy drain; could I have really been as silly as to not have connected the fact that I'm in daily physical pain with being so tired all the time? Man, I feel so dumb!

The way to check it is three weeks without sugar or gluten, which isn't easy but certainly worth having a life, unlike the drowsy thing I have now, and luckily there's none of those in the house right now so it's simply a matter of not buying any. And possibly baking that corn bread I keep telling myself I will.

Oh, gods, I'm so silly. Nnrg.


So I went to bed at five in the morning, woke up at ten in the evening - still tired and in pain, but too thirsty to stay in bed, and with that eureka thought; I had lots of water, my medicine and an hour of answering people's Blender questions and now, so help me Morpheus, I'm going to take a sleeping pill and go back to bed. Not only because things feel a little lonely at this time of night, or because I'm too tired to do anything but too awake to fall asleep, but because I want to be awake at a nice morning hour just to feel normal for a bit. 

I did the Ray thing of wash-one-dish-when-you-pass-by-the-sink and it made me feel nice. There's loads I want to do and don't, there's a weird sense of hopelessness and dragging existence; I dream of Sam almost every night. Perhaps all this is simply that I'm grieving and I just don't know it.
I think another reason I was grumpy this whole week was that I was tired all the time; today felt that much nicer because I'd slept really well and woke up refreshed and well rested, which made me cheerful for the rest of the day. I had to cut the stream short because Twitch was acting up, which was a shame because there's been so many oldcomers I haven't seen in a long time and missed a lot, and very much wanted to spend time catching up with; I hope I'll get the chance to, later.

And since being not-tired is a novel and wonderful experience I'm going to call them on Sunday and schedule that blood test; the notion of being refreshed and rested is very compelling, and I shouldn't have neglected this for so long.

Today was spent with Bearette, which was lovely, then cooking and eating spinach, which was almost as lovely, then with Lucky, which was very nice because it's been so long since we played something together, and without a canvas to paint our friendship on it's so easy to drift apart. I hope we keep playing regularly like that; I miss him. 

And now I'm going to bed. And it's nice.  

Friday, June 25, 2021

Life's rich and beautiful and I'm fortunate to have a roof, support, a family that loves me, good friends and a purpose that gives me satisfaction. I'm also grumpy af and I only have myself to blame because I didn't schedule that blood test, so I still don't know why I've been tired 75% of the week for over a year now, but it being my fault doesn't make me want to rant less about it. And somehow the fact that I'm lucky, safe, loved, healthy et cetera doesn't dampen the need to whine. Oh, biology-never-caught-up-with-modernity brain, how I grump at thee.

Wednesday, June 23, 2021

The person who did most of the Blender support on my art server took a break a couple of weeks back, and she's very good at explaining things clearly and meticulously, and made sure nobody waited more than a few hours for a reply. Other people's passions and talents lie elsewhere, so many questions are either left unanswered, or answered unclearly, and all this sounds like a rant, only it has a really nice outcome I never expected: I end up doing far more Blender support, and since my preferred way of doing it is on voice - typing technical explanations takes me too long - I end up voice chatting with cool strangers from all around the globe and it's so nice! This week I spoke to people form Argentina, Namibia and Germany, got to enjoy cool accents and get a whiff of a life entirely alien to my own. I feel so rich and lucky for being able to glimpse these, while feeling useful. 

I spend some 24 hours in bed - some neck, some worries - and was about to remain there for the rest of the night, but there were unanswered questions in our Support channel and I found, to my surprise, that while I won't get out of bed while tired for anything, I want to get out of bed to give someone Blender support. It's weird and satisfying, and it's nicer to have done something today which isn't reading crappy Victorian novels or sleeping. And the person had the coolest accent and taught me some German and told me a little about their passion for art, and so I'm sat here smiling at three in the morning.


And that person is alive, and discussing serious help with professionals. And Bearette dealt with a phobia she has like a champ, and is putting in work to get over stuff holding her back. And Katto is a champ and champing it and seeing her progress this past year is inspiring. 

And Ghoula will be here in 11 hours and I'll snuggle into her tiny, aesthetic arms and voice all my fears so they can fly away and she will tell me smart insightful things that will make me grow and perhaps I'll bake that cornbread, and I think I can relax now. 

Tuesday, June 22, 2021

They're alive, thank heavens

...And then they weren't online for three days and  I thought 'oh, shit, what if I pushed them over some edge, what if breaking the merciful ignorance they lived in bathed them in misery instead of hope, what if it overwhelmed them - what if they killed themselves?' And calling the police is uncalled for, I mean, if they haven't done themselves in, the police arriving for nothing is panic and anxiety, and it's based on nothing but my fears, but what if they had? What if I just caused someone's death?

So I left them a message carefully phrased so as not to give them any ideas, asking them to drop me a line just so I know they're okay, and Waited, with a capital double you, thw kind of waiting that is an active thing during which you can't do anything, and after 15 hours they answered, they're fine, they probably didn't even contemplate dying, and I'm, like, oh, thank god, and now that I know they're okay I'm going to go to bed for twenty hours, thankyouverymuch, and then I will have a good, long think about why this hit me so much. Why I feel I have a fragile single chance of saying that person, and why, despite years of training, I have that drive at all.

Sunday, June 20, 2021

I'm avoiding going to bed because that's where the neck acts up, but I've reached the stage where one is too tired to properly work. Tonight was very calm; quiet, obsessive, zero-care-for-efficiency model cleaning. Useless in terms of productivity or money, but a meditative, soothing delight for anyone who draws joy from a work properly, cleanly done.

Having tried the Amelie soundtrack, then Chocolat, and even contemplated my automatic Last Ship, I ended up listening to Baez's Diamonds and Rust in a loop for three hours, which turned out to be a very good song for late night work. It also made me miss GetTheeHence, of course, and there's something comfortable in wallowing in righteous fury towards someone you know you can actually rage at if you so chose. Our current relationship is too distant to cause any grievances, the past too sweet to flush down the drain, and my emotion too small to subject to his infuriatingly pragmatic attitude. It's far more satisfying to be secretly enraged with him and toy with the notion of writing him a devastatingly eloquent letter the kind only he manages to draw out of me, and try to sound like a sensible, respectful adult while simultaneously wishing I could kick him really hard in the shin. I swear sometimes I'm more the literary Belvane than I care to admit. 

Ah, this felt lovely. 

'Tis the morning lark outside, meaning it's time to subject my neck to the challenge of lying down. For the Nth time, thank you, trash Victorian fantasy romance novel writers; you make going to bed so much more appealing. 

When sudden pains appear, look for the seam lines - said my dad once - 'seam lines' meaning the moment you changed something from your usual. If I remembered stuff, I'd have remembered that last time, during animation class, I was practicing Maya on one screen while watching the other, which had me twisting my spine weirdly, which resulted in this exact pain. I wish I'd remembered that before spending five hours of doing exactly the same this time, sans animation, and getting the kind of pain that affects nausea and dizziness. I took the amount of medication I had after the jaw surgery, where they sawed my jaw bone, and sat here priding myself for sticking to normal medication and not touching them synthetic opiates; but I did bring them over, because this pain is truly exquisite. 

So I'm not sure if my distress is this pain or the pain I feel over that person I wrote of yesterday - the one whom I think has Complex PTSD - and I still don't know why this feels so terrible; they're not a close friend, just a sweet person I care about; I don't know why this feels as if it's my personal fault, not having thought, years ago, to ask them more of their family. To think that their condition was a result, not a cause. I'm feeling dread, and I don't know why.


But today Bearette and I watched Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring together, at last; the extended edition, almost four hours of ageless glory, my twentieth or so time of watching it, Bearette's first. We had it synced, with a facecam running, and I swear I spent most of that time watching her, not the movie. After all, the movie will be there forever, but Bearette's expression of wonder at seeing the movie for the first time will only be there once. 

It was wonderful.


This neck thing is very distracting. Nnrg. 

Saturday, June 19, 2021

I feel tired, emotionally drained and sad, but not hopeless, and it's not anything very big so I don't know why is the emotional reaction so felt. 

Last night I was binging some psychology lectures and bumped into something called Complex PTSD. The famous big brother is, of course, PTSD - a trauma caused by one formative event, years of re-living it and symptoms - really, I'm no expert; but the Complex version is something that comes from a low-key trauma that lasted years, like the lack of sense of safety, or neglect, or whatever - something that most of us would look at and say 'nah, it was a normal childhood, sure, it wasn't great but it's not so bad' - but fudge, it is, and the outcome, well, is a wreck of a life; and it shook me because I thought of this person I've known for five or six years, and as I read the symptoms I finally connected the dots and it was like being kicked in the gut. Oh, fuck. Oh, shit. I knew about some conditions they had, but which modern person doesn't? I knew they had some disease, but again, it happens; but when the penny dropped I just - fuck, why didn't I ask them about their parents? Their childhood? That disease can easily be a manifestation of a long-ignored emotional need, man, it was all there, I saw it, I just didn't connect the dots.

It gnawed on me until dawn and I woke up with the stiffest neck in all of stiffland, which I'd love to have blamed on emotional turmoil but it was due to, I realized later, trying to watch two badly-positioned screens at once for six hours. And I didn't think much of it, nor did I feel particularly unhappy during the day - the neck is a bitch, but pain killers help and it will be better in a few days, and I remember I did this to myself when I studied animation, so I just have to remember never to study with two screens - anyway, I spoke with the person and emerged, rather than hopeful, apprehensive; anxious. Because I so very desperately want them to go to therapy - with a qualified psychotherapist, not with a life coach; they need a Complex PTSD expert, a trauma expert who can help them process - and I so very very much want them to start actually living and not just existing and - we spoke and - and they're so measured always, so timid, and suddenly they started crying, when I said something - some key sentence - desperate embarrassed sobs - I never heard them cry before, I never heard them emotional at all - and when the coachee starts crying you know you hit the right place, a painful core that could be the key to the pain, an arrow marking something worth processing - and I know it's true because I'm crying now, as I think of their tears, of that sentence I told them, and they deserve to live, not just exist, and this hurts. Thinking of them there. 

A professional therapist in their country costs a lot of money; but I think there's nothing else in the world as important as dealing with this; because they've not gotten help for this before, and they're not really living, they just exist, and not happily either. If there's anything worth doing with money at such a state it's to put it into a prospect of possible change for the best, in my opinion; and if I had the money I'd finance it myself; but that's unhealthy - for them too, not only for me - and, well, anyway, I think it's only fear stopping them, because change is terrifying for people like them. 

But it just hurts. That sound.

I promised to write something to help them express it to a professional, which I did; not it's in their hands, to decide whether to do it or not. I really hope they will. I so very much wish that, a few from now, we'll be speaking and they will be some 15%, maybe even 20% better than they are today, in terms of self love, self worth and self care; alive, not just living.


So I'm tired and drained and very sad, but I think it's just empathy. And I'll go to bed and read some stuff and remind myself that this pain means I am alive and that caring for others, near-strangers, is a good thing, and I'll probably feel better after processing and accepting and letting go of this. Yes. 

Wednesday, June 16, 2021

Doom of doom

Today, June 16th of 2021, year of our lord, the Doompile has been vanquished. Storage space was found for the Two In One duvet; the Electric Sheet That Shall Not Be Folded; the standing fan, the large heater, the velvet comforter and the extra pillow.

Left out are Gothmog, lord of the balrogs (and a moose plushie with the cutest feet ever), and a bra that looked really comfortable online, and still might be, only it's about three sizes too large for me, which is saying something.

There is no Doompile! I did it, the 'one item every time I pass the bedroom' method worked! I'd like to further use that, but for now I'm going to sleep. In my messy, dusty, BUT MUCH NICER bedroom.

Tuesday, June 15, 2021

Five or six more items removed from the doompile. This is very, if lowkey, satisfying.

I've been up for seven hours and I'm knackered. It's prolly the stress drop. Watched some Leonardo - it's fiction, and simplistic, and drama, and not what I know of the guy, but it's also very beautiful; compositions, colour palette and lighting, all soothingly lovely, in many frames - designed to look like a renaissance painting. For me it feels comforting.

Bedtime. Me and the trash Victorian romance detective (my fudge) novel.
When you'd rather stop working on adding music to your tutorial because your neighbour is playing the piano and it's too lovely to miss. 


Bearette is being Bearette again, aka truly inspiring and amazing. 


The emergency is over, meaning all the tension and stress I've been working hard to pretend weren't there are spilling over at last; tiredness surfaces as all the muscles relax and request a good few hours in bed, and my brain is projecting images of chicken soup, duvets and tea. And possibly cake; cake wasn't originally my poison, but years of dieting with cakes being that one thing which is the devil's own way of calling you a loser did their thing, and now cake for me is the embodiment of sweet, sinful compensation. 

I won't have cake; but I'll have myself some nice, soft, warm scrambled eggs with the lettuce I love, and commence in some snuggling, and possibly have an early night. That sounds lovely.


My god, the neighbour's piano playing is so lovely. This is such a privilege. 
Whoah, today just vanished. Twelve full hours of working on that tutorial, which is in its final render now. It's flawed - Tzim will grump about the sound quality, and I could have sprinkled some more highlights there, but as usual with projects I do intensively, I'm too impatient to call it done and I release it, not half-baked, but certainly not the absolute perfectionist best I'd have liked it to be. In that... world... where I have patience.

I still don't get how an eight minute tutorial takes me four days to make. Heavens, I'm so glad I don't have a boss; they hated it. The thoroughness; and it drove me nuts that I wasn't allowed it. I feel very lucky to have found a profession where I'm allowed to make my own choices, and that has little relevance to thoroughness - the closest Coaching gets to that is arranging my studies material. And those are very thorough.


It's been really good to spend a few days away from the world. No streams, no socializing, no spending time with people. It didn't clear my mind - I'm worried and am well aware of the fact this solitude was my attempt at escaping a reality and a choice I don't want to make - but as escapism go, it was healthy. No drinking, slothing or binging; rather - focused work, some hygiene and even a touch of cleaning. There wasn't even any compensative eating or money spending, because, as often happens when I get in the Flow, I ate only when I was hungry and rather lightly. Lettuce and... cherries... and lettuce. May all my mild distress times go this way.


And... I forgot how it feels, to finish something you worked on very intensively. It's a bit of a 'now what?' moment. I guess the answer to that is 'fold another garment from the doompile and go to sleep'. I will.

Monday, June 14, 2021

I might have finished the graphics! It's rendering now and I'll see soon. Then it's joining all the parts - preface, tldr, conclusion - and then music - there's a chance I'll finish this today. 

...And then I'd like to get on the Item Work tutorial. Yes
Turns out that making tutorials is like the five stages of grief: while the books claim there's order to it, when you're in it you describe all stages are mixed together like character concepts in a new Vampire The Masquerade player. Right now I'm doing the graphics, but also recording narration patches for when the original has weird diction, fishing out pesky black frames and re-designing the visual language in hope to make the implementation of knowledge more intuitive (aka 'if it's on a green background it's important to remember'). It's a bit hectic for my tastes but, as my old guild's first knight used to say, better than sodomy.

(Not that I see what's wrong with sodomy, except the bad biblical PR. We don't yuck people's yums).

Any progress is better than none

It occurred to me that any progress is better than nothing, so I picked up one item from the Pile of Doom on the bedroom floor - it's not even that much of a doompile, really, it has about ten things in it, one of which is a huge duvet and another is a pillow, so it just looks big, but as a part of the all-in-all bedroom mess, with the need to thoroughly kick half the stuff from the closet, it's daunting. 

Anyway, some progress is better than stagnation, so I picked the top one and folded it neatly and put it on the chair. Then I did the same with the rest, excluding the Duvet of Eldritch Horrors, and even hang a couple of items from the second doompile, the one on the bedfoot chest. It's tiny and barely felt, but it's advancing in the right direction. 

And I thought, of, if I tell myself 'I only want to lose two kilogram. Only two.' Without the prospect of being hungry or eating disgusting food forever, just until I lose two kilos. Maybe... maybe. But just thinking about that makes me militantly furious. I don't want to be hungry, or eat disgusting food, ever again in my life. I don't want to think about what I'm eating or feel guilty for possessing an appetite ever again in my life. I've done it for fudging thirty five years, almost 24/7. I can't begin to describe how infuriated, miserable and hopeless I feel with that familiar, homey guilt walking hand in hand with me wherever I go, whatever I do. Constantly hungry. Constantly dissatisfied, physically and emotionally. Constantly feeling deprived, and my god, the taste of diet yogurt and oil-free salad and ending up hating cabbage. No. Nope. 

...But I can pick up clothes from the doompile. And that was a good start for a day.
I even showered at the end! 

The bedroom is still gross, as is the bed, and I direly need to send the laundry and change the sheets and possibly dismember that pile of duvets and clothes on the floor, but there's no dishes in the sink, I ate healthily and nicely, I'm clean, the office area is clean, I made good progress on that tutorial, and I even washed the bathtub anti-slip thing, which was seriously gross and rivaled only by the drain. 

Tomorrow - if I manage:
  1. send the laundry
  2. unclog the drain
  3. clean the bathtub
  4. possibly call Ghoula and beg pathetically that she keep me company on the phone as I struggle with changing the sheets
Here's hoping. But gods, it's nice to be clean. It was really all the blurgh. 


It was a nice day at the end, with that rigging tutorial

Someone once told me I whine endlessly. I don't, in public - my facebook, twitter and public Discord are kept mostly without it - but here in my blog, or in my emotion-spewing notebook, I really do. Whining in writing alone is therapeutic. I'm not particularly proud of it, but I try to embrace the fact it's human.

That is to say, I was about to embark on another rant regarding how fudging much I hate making tutorials because ugh editing and ugh thinking about the clearest way to explain something - which fries my brain to bits and I'm never sure I got it - and then grudgingly admitting I'm in the Flow but immediately whining about my neck aching because I'm too concentrated to notice agronomy. And all the perfectionist removing of any wasted time bwahaha, etc.

But the result is so satisfying. Not that it's necessarily a good tutorial; but that there's an easy link presenting all the relevant knowledge in a relatively intuitive, no-time-wasted way, a link I can give any student rather than explaining the topic every stream again with too many distractions - that feels clean. It feels efficient. I love efficient.


It's... four in the morning! How'd I end up sitting ten full hours on this? Oh, this feels nice and productive. And the solitude did me good, although I did end up doing a couple of blender help over voice with random people who posted a support request. It felt nice and friendly and relaxed.

But it's late, and I'll enjoy my sleep; I'll continue that tutorial tomorrow.
And that's segment three out of - oh, I don't know how many, five? Rendering, aka I trimmed out all the 'ah' and 'err' moments, and the long navigating through Blender, because if there's one thing that drives me nuts as a student it's lazy tutorials where my patience is ground thin by sloooow.... mouse... movements... and... confused... navigations... in... menus.


And... segment four. I'm always astounded how twelve minutes of recording end up being two and a half minutes after editing. Imagine someone having to sit through the unedited version just to learn how to rig a tabard. Actually, I don't have to; I'm still traumatized by the three hours of that breathy heavy accent guy in 2016. 

Sunday, June 13, 2021

Treating my blog like twitter works well because it passes the two minutes required to render a tutorial segment, and because reporting mundane things like "I'm halfway through segment three of six in the tutorial" on twitter is boring; and this blog is a private platform people actually need to go to to read my sordid daily thoughts, and I honestly, honestly don't know why anyone would do that. It's my thought dump; although I admit it's lovely when Ray or Harper keep in touch because they know what's going on with me; even such fascinating reports as 'today I found a cockroach'. 

I didn't; but it's summer in Israel. I have faith.