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demiurgent made a joke that I did not get a notice soon enough to delete. I delted it immediately upon finding it, and now moderate all posts to prevent heated comments from being generally available.The remark resulted in painful additional personal and legal troubles for me. As I've said before, something to consider before making a joke. There is a person on the other end of it who may feel threatened, offended or hurt.
From
demiurgent , via LJ message:As requested, and entirely without reservation.
from </a></b></a>
demiurgentIt was my thoughtless joke that Ms. Hernandez is making reference to. Let me be frank and clear. Ms. Hernandez did nothing to solicit said joke, and there was no true ill intent behind it. It was an inappropriate response to frustration, and I regret it entirely.
To the gentleman in question: I unreservedly apologize. Any burden of difficulty, concern or tension should be entirely upon me. Ms. Hernandez did not solicit my comment, and immediately upon its making repudiated it publicly. It was my lack of judgment and my lack of empathy, and I apologize for them without excuse or justification.
Please feel free to contact me at [redacted] with any questions or concerns regarding this matter.
RUMBLE GIRRRRLLLLLS!
I am going to be a single parent sometime this year, and you get to read comics because of it. Subscribe to Rumble Girls and get archive access, previews, a newsletter, chances to win art!
I am just 200 subscribers away from my first goal, which puts me comfortably in the position of supporting the kids. Subscriptions are JUST $5.00/month through PayPal recurring payments, or $55. for a year.
Read Rumble Girls!
Subscribe to Rumble Girls!
If you can't subscribe now, please pass my URLs along, and feel free to re-post and Twitter this at will! Everything helps!
I am awake and not in need-a-nap agony!
Divorce lurches on, for those wondering.
Today begins the first full week of the ten of summer vacation. I have to buy another swimsuit because I am not sweltering poolside for a whole season like last year.
I will probably be scarce-ish LJ-wise so I can update Rumble Girls regularly (have YOU subscribed yet?) and get some useful math into Summer's and Fox's heads.
Feel free to leave comments or email me!
Posted via LiveJournal.app.
INVISBL COMMENTS
I know some people thought they were the only posters because they saw no other answers. Comments are hidden until I approve them. This became necessary after a poster (who meant no harm and has apologized) posted something unfortunate that I didn't delete before it caused consternation to second and third parties. That consternation caused me a great deal of trouble.
So, comments are modded until further notice.
- Location:Texas
Rumble Girls opens Monday, but I'm offering Early Monster* subs from today through Sunday evening at 11PM Central Yank time.
Early Monsters subbing during this period will get a FREE sketchcard!
(My choice of subject, but you'll love it!)
Subscribe Now!
*Why "Early Monster" and not "Early Bird?" You'll find out!
Opening subscriptions for Rumble Girls:RLO MONDAY! Comics, art, prizes! Ten sketchcards to give away!
My initial goal is 320 subscribers. Once I reach that number, I'm going to share with everyone why I picked such a specific number. You'll love it.
Subscriptions will be ONLY $5.00/month,billed on a recurring basis through PayPal*. You will get exclusive access to updates to the RG:RLO comic, a monthly PDF newsletter of goodies, unpublished art, author's notes, and upcoming storylines.
Subscribers will also have a chance to win one of three montly sketchcards, winners will be chosen at random from all members. Every six months, there will be a drawing for an original watercolor. (Oooh, Ahhhh.)
*People who don't have PayPal can subscribe using money order, for six months at a time.
Opening subscriptions for Rumble Girls:RLO FRIDAY! Comics, art, prizes! Ten sketchcards to give away!
My initial goal is 320 subscribers. Once I reach that number, I'm going to share with everyone why I picked such a specific number. You'll love it.
Subscriptions will be ONLY $5.00/month,billed on a recurring basis through PayPal*. You will get exclusive access to updates to the RG:RLO comic, a monthly PDF newsletter of goodies, unpublished art, author's notes, and upcoming storylines.
Subscribers will also have a chance to win one of three montly sketchcards, winners will be chosen at random from all members. Every six months, there will be a drawing for an original watercolor. (Oooh, Ahhhh.)
*People who don't have PayPal can subscribe using money order, for six months at a time.
It causes trouble. They are taken seriously. Someone used the phrase "die in a fire" mere weeks before my house burnt down. That special someone nearly found a fed on the doorstep asking hard questions about whereabouts and arson.
I appreciate very much the support I've been given regarding the divorce. I cannot thank you enough. Anyone who's in a position where they are trying to change a relationship for the better does.
But let's be ABUNDANTLY clear: posting a threat, even a joking threat, IS NOT HELPFUL. YOU WILL CAUSE SHIT TO RAIN DOWN, AND NOT ALWAYS ON YOUR OWN HEAD. Don't give people excuses and fuel to start more trouble.
To the person who posted just such a thing about breaking my st-ex's bones, you caused me a world of trouble. You owe my stb-ex an apology. Not an excuse, an APOLOGY. You can email it to me through my profile and I will pass it along.
You owe me an apology too, but I'll take a pledge to lend support to others in a positive way in future.
All comments are screened.
At one point, one of my many stops to catch my breath, I pulled up under a bus shelter and put my head on the handlebars and cried, because it all seemed so unfair. I'm biking in the rain, keeping my appointment so I stay healthy for my kids and myself, and I'm fighting the rain and the bike, and somewhere the stb-ex is warm, dry, in a car and probably getting lunch in a restaurant.
When I got to my appointment (AHEAD OF TIME, by the way), looking drowned, I started to cry again. The office manager took me into the ladies' and handed me wads of paper towels to dry my arms and tears and squeeze the water out of my hair and shirt.
I took a damn cab home, grateful I had the money to do so. While I waited, parts of my hair that dried were patting at my face when the wind blew. It was a nice contrast to my squelching pants and waterlogged heavy t-shirt. The cab driver, Ousmane (oos-mahn), was from Africa. Ousmane fell in love with San Antonio eighteen years ago, and never went back. to Africa. He helped take apart my bike and get it in the cab.
It was good I decided on a cab. When Ousmane has just put my bike in the cab, there was a flash of lightning. I was thinking "That wasn't so much," then the sky made a horrible ripping, cracking sound, and followed with a series of loud booms that lasted long enough to alarm me, and I am a thunderstorm veteran. Then the rain started pouring down in sheets, filling the edges of the streets. I told Ousmane about the day the kids and I, when walking home on another rainy day, had dodged a truck that sent up a rooster tail on to the sidewalk. The next truck came too fast, and I knew I couldn't get us all out of the way, so I held on to the kids and shut my eyes. The truck sent up a spray high and soaking enough that was like sitting in the front row of the Shamu show.
The driver of that truck was being mean. We thought it was hilarious. The kids loved it, and I had another new experience to tuck away in the "remember when..." file of stories we tell each other.
Ousmane, after about four tries to back the cab into the driveway so I didn't step out into the mud, hopped out and got my bike out. I insisted on hauling it in without putting the front tire on, because Ousmane was too nice to get soaked, and I was still wet.
I did figure out why I was struggling so with my bike, why pedaling was like driving a car with the brake on: a bungee cord had fallen out of my basket, hooked into the basket mesh and the dangling end had wrapped around the rear axle. Luckily, it broke nothing.
Another day muddled through, and three and some change until Friday.
I think this coming Friday is nearly the end of the big work, divorce-wise, with another date to follow. Then the fiddly bits.
Thanks for being here for me.
http://divalea.livejournal.com/617957.h
About to get some writing done, and try to go sleepy-bye since tomorrow is church. "Church" is going to church and sitting on the patio and drawing and drinking coffee. Some Unitarian Universalists rebel by becoming Baptists, and some rebel by not going into the sanctuary, but sitting in front of it, thinking fine thoughts. Summer and I, along with some long-time friends are the latter group.
There was a court date for this next Monday for divorce-related things, but it's been moved a couple weeks. Just when I was all ready to go be very nervous, I have to wait. I was a pretty bad waiter, and I'm not so great at waiting, either. Ha. I tend to go all formless, and take my days with me. But, these two weeks will be productive.
Getting Rumble Girls: RLO art ready to go live and getting the site ready to go live should fill up the time nicely, so no matter what the outcome, I still have something in progress, instead of trying to start it. Something concrete accomplished while my life taxis on the tarmac, waiting for the chance to pull up to the divorce gate.
I am seeking at least 300 of my followers across Twitter, Facebook, LJ and divalea.net to subscribe to the Rumble Girls webcomic.
It’s finally time to launch the re-boot of Rumble Girls: RLO. Out of necessity (regular updates and being a single parent make for a lot of necessary) and enjoying telling stories and sharing them, I will be offering subscriptions.
The subscriptions will be $5.00/month.
Subscribers will get goodies:
Early access to RG:RLO updates.
A monthly wallpaper and icons.
A monthly PDF containing script excerpts and production art from RG:RLO, plus previews of the next month’s story.
A monthly drawing for five winners of original, one-of-a-kind sketchcards.
A monthly drawing for a part as an extra in RG:RLO. (May substitute spouse, cat, mom, etc.)
To make this work, I need at least 300 monthly subscribers. I know I have more than four times that across LiveJournal and Twitter!
SUBSCRIBE before 11PM Central Yank (US) Time and get a FREE sketchcard!
CLICK HERE for monthly and annual subscriptions!
Please Twitter this, and share the URL of this post to your own blogs, Facebook pages, etc. using this handy-dandy URL:
http://divalea.net/?p=136
Rumble Girls opens Monday, but I'm offering Early Monster* subs from today through Sunday evening May 10, 2009, at 11PM Central Yank time.
Early Monsters subbing during this period will get a FREE sketchcard! Like so!
Out of necessity (regular updates and being a single parent make for a lot of necessary) and enjoying telling stories and sharing them, I am offering subscriptions to RG:RLO.
Subscription sare $5.00/month via PayPal, using their recurring payment feature.
Subscribers will get awesome stuff:
Early access to RG:RLO updates.
A monthly wallpaper and icons.
A monthly PDF containing script excerpts and production art from RG:RLO, plus previews of the next month's story.
A monthly drawing for five winners of original, one-of-a-kind sketchcards.
A monthly drawing for a part as an extra in RG:RLO
Every six months, there will be a drawing for an original watercolor. (Oooh, Ahhhh.)
To make this work, I need at least 320 subscribers. I know I have a third more than that in followers just here on LiveJournal!
Please Twitter this, re-post, and share the URL of this post to your own blogs, Facebook pages, etc. using this handy-dandy URL:
http://divalea.livejournal.com/617488.ht
*People who don't have PayPal can subscribe using money order, for six months at a time.
Sorry I haven't been posting much, there's a lot of divorce stuff going down. Last week, there was a huge setback (of the monetary kind) that pretty much blew my post-divorce plans to hell. After a few days of panic, I pulled myself together.
Getting the papers drawn up and getting everything where it needs to go is a white-knuckler.
Next week, I will be trying an experiment to see if I have the Long Tail to support myself and the kids. Yes, I know there are programs to assist, and I'm looking into them, but not everything is appropriate. (Unless you are a whiz at negotiating Texas' assistance programs, assume I know what I need to know, and I am doing what needs to be done.)
Also, working like a madwoman on Rumble Girls: Runaway Lightning Ohmry. That's part of the Long Tail.
That's where my scarce self is.
In the backyard were many boxes (previously dry, now soggy from the Spring Break storms) of stuff from the old house, then of storage, then of carport. It was determined to be mostly mine, studio stuff just hucked into boxes to be gone over later. I spent a little bit of time on it Wednesday night while I talked to Shannon of Charming Bitch. Wednesday night was the night I broke everything made of glass that I could find. It was all hopelessly etched with smoke and heat, and would've never been clean enough for ebay, which is where I'd considered sending it.
I do not mind saying that breaking all that glass was refreshing and satisfying.
"Oh, look! A lid!" KSSSH!
"Oh no! This bowl doesn't have a lid!" KSSSH!
"Eh, it' already broken..." KSSSH!
Yesterday turned into "I meant to do two boxes but fuck it let's keep going try another box quit when you feel like it."
When I started, there were two large plastic storage bins, two-three banker's boxes, three or so medium boxes, and six extra-large boxes re-purposed from office chairs and a Christmas tree.
When I was done, I had two plastic tubs and one banker's box of stuff I elected to keep. The rest was nothing but garbage.
Two year and six+ months after the fire. I feel a weight's been lifted. There is now only a large file cabinet left to be emptied, and after the fire is over except for the divorce.
X-post from divalea.net. Comments enabled!
45! Pretty cool, huh?
After the fire, I thought I might not live to 43, I was so depressed. A very smart doctor made the first correct diagnosis of the nature of my depression and changed my life.
Last year at this time, my long time friend Dave Stevens died and I realized I didn't want to spend the rest of my life (or stb-ex's) making do in a relationship that depended on me accepting no affection, no passion, and a partner who found me unattractive in the name of "love."
I think Dave is a shithead for not telling me he was sick, but the way he regretted his life before he was sick, and how he lived it after was a real kick in the ass.
Last year at this time, I and my fellow Comic Book Tattoo contributors were blasting out the best work of of most of our careers, underneath the enthusiastic (or is that passionate? grin grin) leadership of Rantz Hoseley. I was doing my comeback work. We were in CBT Daylight Saving Time: we'd found out we had a month less than we thought. We all still fucking rocked that book. This is important because at this time last year I was completely vapor-locked on my CBT work because stb-ex was gringing about me taking back end pay, how long before I got money, why wouldn't I do insurance instead? In short, he really did not get how important CBT was and was going to be.
Dave died, I told stb-ex I was divorcing him (for the second time in six months), knew I was not going back, and I was able to work again.
This day two years ago, we moved back into the house. Unlike the day it burned down, which was a beautiful day weather-wise, it was raining. The house burned down on stb-ex's birthday and we moved back in on mine.
I've said it many times before, I'm saying it again, and will say it many more times: there is not a day that passes where I do not think of the generosity and love of strangers and friends, because it is constantly around me.
Thank you all.
X-post from divalea.net. Comments enabled!
It goes like this:
First, you really have to get to a crisis point. By this I sometimes mean an eight-month-old sandwich; but I also mean not being able to find the single biggest thing you know is in there; trying to reach into it, your foot hitting a slope of plastic bags and clothing, and falling into your closet, at which point you are devoured by Christmas ornaments enraged that they were not on the tree this year.
Second, find a place of acceptance that everything must come out. Everything. By everything I mean this: everything.
It's good for your to understand the difference between linear and cubic feet. You can learn it as you moved everything from one tiny room to a bigger room.
Third: three piles and brutality. Keep, throw away, give away/donate. For that donation pile, keep in mind two things: just because it's going to Goodwill doesn't mean they want your garbage. A torn shirt is garbage. Scraps of fabric are garbage. A torn quilt is garbage.
Here's how you decide what to donate: imagine yourself having to defend every piece you give to the 'Will to an overworked donation worker. If you find yourself really believing you could answer "Well, someone's poor enough to appreciate a torn quilt," and mean it, and think I'm mean for saying so, you are a bad person, and the donation worker should be allowed to kneecap your ass.
Now you know that a lot of clothes and household items you want to donate are garbage. Goooood. They go into garbage bags, along with old papers, chewed paperbacks, 10-year-old sets of bath products, eight-month-old sandwiches, and so on.
If you're keeping it, have a place and a way to store it, or you'll be right back where you started.
Honestly, I'm surprised there were only two bags of donations, two bags of garbage, and a pile of boxes. It looked like a lot more all over my bed, and twice as much in the closet.
Why do you think you throw away garbage and donate the good stuff? So you have a place for your books, because that's what closets are for.
Pretty cool, huh?
After the fire, I thought I might not live to 43, I was so depressed. A very smart doctor made the first correct diagnosis of the nature of my depression and changed my life.
Last year at this time, my long time friend Dave Stevens died and I realized I didn't want to spend the rest of my life (or stb-ex's) making do in a relationship that depended on me accepting no affection, no passion, and a partner who found me unattractive in the name of "love."
I think Dave is a shithead for not telling me he was sick, but the way he regretted his life before he was sick, and how he lived it after was a real kick in the ass.
Last year at this time, I and my fellow Comic Book Tattoo contributors were blasting out the best work of of most of our careers, underneath the enthusiastic (or is that passionate? grin grin) leadership of Rantz Hoseley. I was doing my comeback work. We were in CBT Daylight Saving Time: we'd found out we had a month less than we thought. We all still fucking rocked that book. This is important because at this time last year I was completely vapor-locked on my CBT work because stb-ex was gringing about me taking back end pay, how long before I got money, why wouldn't I do insurance instead? In short, he really did not get how important CBT was and was going to be.
Dave died, I told stb-ex I was divorcing him (for the second time in six months), knew I was not going back, and I was able to work again.
This day two years ago, we moved back into the house. Unlike the day it burned down, which was a beautiful day weather-wise, it was raining. The house burned down on stb-ex's birthday and we moved back in on mine.
I've said it many times before, I'm saying it again, and will say it many more times: there is not a day that passes where I do not think of the generosity and love of strangers and friends, because it is constantly around me.
Thank you all.
I've re-posted this so LJ peeps could comment here. I can't figure out why the LJ cross-post plugin doesn't allow comments here like it's supposed to. Boo.
(And you all can certainly post there. Once you're approved, you're gold. I miss your comments! ;___;)
All of my glasses have arrived from Goggles4U.com, and now here are the much-requested pix.
BTW, all three pairs have glass lenses with anti-reflective, scratch resistance and UV filter included, photochromic (darkens in sunlight) tint and shipped free. Total cost for all three pairs: a skosh over $100. , half of what my last (discounted) pair cost.
Orange Lucky Charms:
Shiny Shiny Retro:
If you don't buy your next glasses from Goggles4U.com, you are just wasting money on a ripoff! (Except for DareDiva, who has a badass script and has to have them made locally.) Just think: the money you save can buy you a commission from me!
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