LadyElfie2000

I have decided to treat my last few journals like writing prompts.  It was pushing me to write in a more interesting manner.  Tonight, I just kind of want to do a quick update on what's going on in my life.

So on July 16, 2016, Scott and I got married after we dated for five years, and were engaged for about at least a year of that.  For our honeymoon, we went to Cambria, visited hearst castle, and did a few things around there before heading down to Disneyland for two days.  The last day of our honeymoon, and the second day of Disneyland, I woke up in the hotel with vertigo.  We went back to my house for the last day or so of the honeymoon, and Scott went back up 3 hours north where he was living with my brother Johnathan, and his family.  I spent the next month off of work, and at my parent's house trying to get my things in order.  The following weekend, Scott came back down so we could use our other Disneyland ticket.  Unfortunately, my vertigo had not left by then, and I didn't go on any of the big roller coaster type rides.  Scott rode Space Mountain by himself while I rode the Submarine Ride.  At the end of the month, I moved up and joined Scott in living at my brother's place where we paid rent, and knew it was only temporary.  It ended up being almost a year, but by the July 2017, and our one year anniversary, we had were living in our own apartment, and have been doing that since.

At times I get terribly homesick.  I've come to realize that I'm proud of my LA roots.  I think I may have mentioned this in journal before.  I can't remember what I've written, so I may be completely repeating myself.  I don't want to move back.  I don't miss feeling like I'm constantly rushed, and stressed.  But I do miss having things to do.  And with all the natural disasters, and what feels like the beginning of the apocalypse going on around the world the past few months, I worry about my friends and family down south.  I like central California, but I don't know that this is where I want to put roots down, and raise a family.  As it is, Scott and I live with our two kitties, Copycat, and Scruffles.  I hadn't intended to get cats right away, but they just happened.  This area has a terrible homeless pet (and people actually) population.  So the two cats sort of just happened.  They were probably born around the time we were married, or at least Copycat was, and I suspect Scruffles is about a month younger.  I often feel like God meant for them to be our cats because they have really helped us through some tough spots.  We also live with my seven betta fish because I'm obsessed with betta fish now.

Three of my family pets passed away back at home since I've moved away.  And that was hard for me.  It's all that much weirder for me because I'm not at my parent's anymore where every day living has made it sink in that they are gone.  I expect them to be there when I show up, and they just aren't.  We lost Highlander who was part of the first litter of kittens I have ever raised back in my early twenties.  That litter of cats changed our life, and made my whole family a bunch of crazy cat people.  We learned so much from them, and losing any of them is just devastating.  And sadly, he was my dad's main cat.  Marbles, the youngest, whom I was hoping to eventually move up with me and be my cat has taken over that place, and I think that's the way it was meant to be.  I think it made it easier for my dad.  We lost Fluffy who was old when we got her.  She was a cat we tried not to get attached to, but she insisted.  She would not be ignored, and she would be loved.  She never let her blindness get in the way either.  While we didn't have her as long, I adore her feisty attitude, and I miss her as well.  And lastly, we lost Odin, who was at first my brother's dog.  But he kind of became ours as he got attached to Buttons first, and then Dandy when she came along.  And after that, it was Indy.  Nobody did anything wrong.  All three pets were old.  It was hard to lose them all at once.  And they are absolutely missed.

And now that I'm in my own apartment and not feeling like I'm under anybody's time table, but my own, and my husband's, I have found time for things I love again.  I am drawing more.  I started watching a bunch of anime series.  I've been playing video games.  Breath of The Wild is one of my most favorite Zelda games of all time.  I wish I could have more horses.  Slowly we're bringing up the rest of my posessions from my parent's house, and trying to make a geek cave out of our apartment.  We still need a couch badly.  Our living room at the moment is mostly storage, and most of our time is spent in the kitchen, or the bedroom playing video games or sleeping since I can be a nightowl on my current work schedule, and Scott works overnight.  We're tight on money, but we get by.  Our parents send us care packages regularly to help us with necessities.  I might breed bettas soon as I'm super invested in them.  And lastly, I've been thinking of writing again.

I have felt like exploring various stories.  Sometimes it's stuff I've never posted online.  Sometimes it's old stuff.  And right now, it's Gothic Furries stuff.  I have been reading some of my old writing to get used to the characters again.  I've found a few continuity flaws that I would change now.  And Zorian, being a natural horse whisper, would have a few things rewritten now that I've learned a few more things on horses, and some of my views have changed.  I no longer believe in using bits on horses, nor do I believe in shoeing horses, which some horse people think is nuts.  (There's more to that than I care to explain or delve into at the moment).  And I realized one of my stories, Zorian keeps horses in a stable, which, viewing horses the way I do now, and the way some natural horse people work with horses, he would NEVER do to a horse.  Upon rereading my stories, I don't think I would change too much plotwise.  I'm still fairly happy with that at the moment.  In fact there's things I forgot about which I was pleased I thought up when rereading it, and liking those ideas more than I probably did then.  I would streamline dialogue a bit more as my characters' conversations are a little hard to follow, but for the most part, I love their banter, and dialogue.

Mostly, I am again, impressed with just how much I enjoy reading my writing years after the fact, and forgetting that I'm the person who wrote that, and wondering why I haven't written a novel yet.  And I don't say that to sound conceded.  I'm genuinely pleased.  I suffer from bad self esteem.  And I think most people, if not all, are often their own worst critics.  I know I am harsh on myself.  It is nice to stop and actually feel GOOD about something I can do for a change.  It's a pleasure that I think all people should experience in their life.

I have been feeling displaced especially the last two or three years.  I am now 35, and not living the life I thought I would be at this time.  And that is both good and bad.  It's good because life probably shouldn't ever be what you expect of it.  But the sad part is, is I beat myself up for not being motivated enough, and feeling as though I'm wasting my time in a dead end job.  Mostly my work life is not what I want.  And I don't even know what I want from it anymore.  I still want to animate, and tell stories and do art.  I can do that on the side of whatever I'm doing even if I don't make a living at it as much as I would like to.  But honestly, that's what I thought I was going to be doing for a living, and now I don't know what I want to do for a career.  And I feel really lost there.  Worst of all, my self esteem suffers for it because in some ways I feel useless.  That's not good for job interviews.  And it's not good for emotional health.  So when I'm at home, feeling good, and confident about my hobbies, it's a nice change.  It's pleasant.  And encouraging.  It makes me feel like maybe I'm not so useless, and maybe I CAN do other things better than I realize.  Maybe I CAN walk into that job interview with my head held high knowing I can do the job I'm trying to get.  And maybe it's not really my fault when I don't get a job.  Maybe it's just somebody was better.  Not that I was bad.  Or maybe the job interviewer really is just dumb.  Maybe it just wasn't meant to be, and there's something better for me.  That's what I'm getting out of it.  So yeah.  Not, "oh look how awesome I am!"  It's nice to measure yourself against yourself, and feel good, and not worry about whether other people think you're good enough or not.

Well, that's what's going on.  Last night was halloween, and we didn't get a SINGLE trick or treater.  My brother told me people don't trick or treat at apartments.  I didn't think he was lying, but I thought I might get one or two.  It was nice to stay home though.  I have been dealing with paranoia at night because I don't sleep well by myself.  And I was worried about the apartment if I went out.  So it was nice to have a night in.  I made rainbow layered jello, and it is fantastic, and pretty to look at.  We couldn't afford much in the way of decorations, but we cut out bats, and black cats, and ravens, and all manner of halloween themed animals in black construction paper.  I'm hoping we can decorate a bit more for Christmas.  And with the holidays coming up, I hope they are full of excitement and fun.  I miss my family, and friends.  I'm looking forward to seeing them.  And I miss my stuff, and hoping to get the rest of it up here soon.

There's a little update on my life.  While I hate TL;DR crap, just for the heck of it, here is the TL;DR version: Still no horse.  There.  Are you little impatient millenial jerkfaces happy?  Lol!  Seriously though, I'm supposedly the oldest you can be and still be a millenial I guess.  They say people born in 1982 are the first year of millenials.  So I guess that's me.

In the mid 90's, I found myself in Jr High.  I had survived the Northridge Earthquake.  I'd watched as girls my age mourned the death of Kurt Cobain.  The gymn teachers turned the television on for us to watch through the office windows to see the outcome of the OJ trial.  One morning, the Mexican flag was paraded through the school as the latinos protested a proposition concerning immigration by ditching class.  Nancy Kerrigan had been attacked by Tonya Harding.  And this crazy cool new thing came out called the internet.

Meanwhile, flannels were big.  And so was the grunge scene.  Lion King came out around that time.  So did Jurassic Park.  Sailor Moon was cool, but not at my school.  People were still calling it "JapAnimation" while a few of us knew it was Anime.  Instead of fidget spinners, we had clackers, and pogs.  I guess in retrospect, maybe I did know what was popular just because it was there, but I didn't care.  I never have.

My mom had cut me loose onto taking care of my own personal hygiene, and it was not going well.  I was trying to defy age.  I wanted to stay a kid while my peers all wanted to grow up.  I hated bras.  I felt like I was wearing a dog harness that suffocated me.  So I just didn't wear them until I realized I had boobs, and the boys in PE were staring when we ran by their half of the field.  My beautiful long hair was a mess because I just didn't know how to brush it yet.  For one of my birthdays, my brother's girlfriend had gotten me a cute outfit, and I was terrified of it.  I brushed off the dumb boys who would shout, "He likes you!" in the halls.  Heaven forbid someone find out I was on my period.  Thank goodness I have a cool dad who bought pads for me and my mom.  One by one, I was losing friends to sex, drugs, and alcohol.  I was not interested in those things.  They all were of varying degrees.  I was only just finding out that boys were attractive as something more than just friends.  But as shy, tomboyish, and aloof as I was, people probably thought I was a lesbian.  Socialization sucked for me outside of family.

On the other hand, I was excelling in other areas that were pretty cool.  My art had taken a huge leap.  I can't explain it, but it suddenly started coming easier, and was more like what I envisioned in my head.  I had discovered anime, which was not popular at the time.  Most of my peers thought cartoons were for kids.  Meanwhile I was watching the stuff dished out from Japan that was directed at girls my age, and Lina Inverse was my hero.  I've always liked fantasy, but it was in Jr High while reading Robert Asprin's Myth series that I realized that I didn't just like fantasy...I loved it, and always had.  And I craved so much more of it once I realized that I was a fantasy geek.  It's funny how you can always like something, but never realize that you are a fanatic of it.  I started table top gaming with my brothers and their friends.  I didn't have internet, but when I could get to it at a friend's or relative's house, I ate it up.  And I wished and wished and wished we would get it.  My cousin introduced me to furries.  Most people didn't know what those were at the time either.  I loved them because I couldn't draw people yet.  I loved animals, and in a weird way, furries eventually became my transition from animals to drawing humanoids.  I started playing clarinet in Jr High, and developed a love of music.  Final Fantasy 6 had also come out in America as FF3, and my love of Final Fantasy began.  And overall, self discovery was the greatest thing that happened to me in Jr High.  I got bullied more than I ever had before in Jr High, but at home I was well loved, taken care of, and I had my escapism in my newly realized passions.

I think it was the summer of 95, though it might have been 96.  I was either 12 or 13.  I made one of my biggest discoveries.  Tonight, I find myself reminiscing about my journey from that time, and realized that I don't think I have ever written about it, though I have told people about it.  Either that, or I have not written about it for quite some time.  Now that I had realized I was a fantasy fan, I wanted to read more of it.  And one of those summers I mentioned, I disappeared off the face of the earth as I tell most people.  My friends didn't know where I had gone for several weeks (I believe it was about 3 weeks, but I can't be too sure anymore), or at least what few friends I still socialized with.  As a child of the 80's with older siblings, I grew up watching the animated hobbit by Rankin Bass.  I loved it.  It's an acquired taste I realize, but that's ok, I had it.  My oldest brother had tried to get me to read The Hobbit, and Lord of The Rings for quite some time.  And I'm sure my dad had mentioned it a time or two.  So, that summer, when I had disappeared, I went to Middle Earth.  And I haven't been the same since.

Some people are Trekkies.  My whole family, with the exception of me are Trekkies.  Some people are Star Wars fans.  We all like Star Wars.  Only one of my brothers hasn't read the Harry Potter series, and he pretty much refuses to.  My mom and I both enjoyed Hunger Games.  However, ultimately, before all of that, I am a Lord of The Rings fan.  Some people call us Ringers.  I've never called myself that, though I'm just as fanatical about Middle Earth as anyone who does label themselves that.  When the crappy American Final Fantasy movie came out in the early 2000's, I didn't enjoy the movie because 1) it sucked, and 2) they had showed the trailer for The Fellowship of The Ring for the first time.  My dear friend Sam nearly lost her arm as I fangirled my joy by yanking on it like a mad crazed psycho girl.  I couldn't stop thinking about it all night, and I couldn't wait to see it.  The release date couldn't come soon enough for me.

One of the biggest things that came out of identifying myself as a Lord of The Rings fan in Jr High was I finally found a niche that was mine.  And well, I especially identified with a certain kind of people in Middle Earth.  Despite all my flaws on the outside of my body that will never live up to Elven standards, I strongly identified on the inside with Elves.  These were my people.  Legolas was my dream boyfriend.  And this was for multiple reasons.

Most people like elves because, well, they're just cool.  For many years, the DnD player who played the elf was stereotyped as a snob...with some truth behind it.  I had played DnD with those types.  Often they are someone who desires the best stats, and a God like character.  But for me, elves were much more personal, and I identified with them.  Many of my friends didn't know what Lord of The Rings was yet, and I did my best to explain.  They couldn't understand my sudden obsession with elves, though I did explain many times that they were not at all like Santa's elves.  And they were nice enough to humor me, and maybe come to an understanding when they found a song on Marcy's Playground album called The Cloaking Robe of Elvenkind.  I was the first person they thought of when they found it.  I like it WAY better than Sex and Candy.

First of all, let's talk about Elves' affinity with nature.  I have always been a nature lover, and particularly an animal lover.  As an introvert, I prefer hanging out with my cats and betta fish way more than most humans.  Elves could understand animals.  They rode horses without saddle or bridle, or if they did, they were light, and didn't hinder the horse.  I may not understand animals on the same mythical level as an elf, but I get them way better than most people.  And elves loved the stars, and the ocean, and trees, and plants...I love all those things.  So there was absolutely an immediate identification with that.

There's also the sobriety of elves.  This is how most people view them, and it was heavily shown in the movies.  I am a deep thinker, and enjoy philosophical thinking, and discussions.  Going back to my introverted nature, this fit me.  The poetry and music.  I love that stuff too.  I am an artist, and so were the elves who wanted to adorn the world with beauty.

And then there was the humor.  This was more in the books.  The elves liked a good tease, and witty banter.  For whatever reason, PJ, did not show these aspects so much in the movies, except a little bit with Legolas.  They teased the dwarves as they climbed into Rivendell in The Hobbit.  I loved the competition that Legolas had with Gimli.  And I had a chuckle when he had said that he would go fetch the sun.  I have always loved a little bit of mischief.  And so do elves.

Ultimately, I have always felt a little complicated, and contradictory in some ways.  When Frodo said not to go to elves for counsel, for they would say both yes and no, that felt it had fit me to a T.  What other creature could be so complex as to be young and old at the same time?  I had people tell me my whole life that I was an old soul.  And yet other people told me I was young at heart.  Elves could be so somber, and yet so playful.

I felt I had found my people.  I had a label for me.  I was an elf.

When you're in Jr High, and have few friends, and don't feel like you belong anywhere, and you are going through self discovery, it's kind of nice to finally find something you relate to.  And I have often gone back to Lord of The Rings throughout different periods of my life, and found that I could apply it to what was going on in my life.  For me, the books cover all the bases.  And elves covered me.  They got me.  I may be wrapped in a hobbit, or human looking package with all the flaws.  I can't shield surf.  I can't use a sword or bow.  I can't literally talk to animals, and am in fact still learning a lot about them despite them being one of my main passions.  I will never live as long as an elf.  And I've never taken the time to learn Sindarin or Quenya properly, though on occasion I give it a shot.  I'm still getting better at my crafts.  BUT, on the inside, in my heart, I'm pretty sure I have the soul of an Elf.  And that's why I like them.  That's why people call me Elfie.

Tonight, I lay in bed with a writing idea in my mind that I felt I have been motivated to write, only to find myself looking for something else to do.  I was so proud of writing a journal recently, and tackling photoshop for a joke that I thought I might finally be making some headway into finding creative time again.  And yet, I was so full of energy and excitement at the prospect of writing that, instead, I started to try to think of ways to relax, like picking up my phone and watching youtube.  It just seemed so much easier.  I realized, I am sedating myself.  Not with drugs or alcohol, but with distractions.  And I don't know why.

This lead to an internet search.  I couldn't find anything on why a creative person might want to sedate themselves.  You see, I wondered if other artists felt this way, and if it was something they did.  I felt like I was on the cusp of something.  The only thing I found was research explaining that creative people have the ability to grasp contradictory concepts, and make them work together.  It explained why I have always felt like a walking contradiction.  It also confirmed that I am in fact a creative person.  But I am absolutely stifling myself, and I don't know why.

I have never wanted to be normal.  Though for some reason I have felt that the world is trying to shove me into a box for quite some time now.  And I don't wonder if I am sedating myself for the sake of survival in a non creative world.  The problem is I get nothing done.  I desperately need to be job hunting and apartment hunting right now.  I don't intend to quit my current job necessarilly (even though I am dying on the inside to do so...I am sick of retail, and every time I have to sell a fish to an idiot who doesn't care if it lives or die, I feel like I a little piece of me is drowning in the plastic bag with the fish.)  However, I have got to make more money.  Or Scott and I will not make it on our own.  Yet, I sedate myself with distractions.  I am relaxed, calm, and not stressed, but I am also not doing what I really want to be doing.

Yesterday, I had an urgent thought.  I lay crying on the bed next to my husband, who was comforting me, after a rejected job interview and feeling as though, not only am I not working towards my dream career, not only am I not getting a new job that is not retail, but I might have to get a second crappy retail job, and wondering how I'm going to live with myself.  I need to draw.  I need to draw.  I need to draw.

Why?  Because not drawing is causing an ugly downward spiral for me.  I felt a direct correlation with my not drawing, and self confidence issues.  It was a weird thought.  One on the edge of all thoughts.  But I'll try to make it as clear as possible.  You see, it tries to slip from me right now.

When you draw regularly, you don't worry about how many bad drawings you are making.  It isn't about the bad drawings.  You are building the confidence as you see your drawings improve.  This, being frozen in time, and not wanting to do anything is holding me up.  I need to keep drawing until I get to the good drawings.  That one in a million.  If I can do that, I can do bad job interviews until I get that good one.  Weird but true.  And yet, I have this weird thought in my head that I cannot draw until my responsibilities are done.  I don't know how that thought got in there.  It never stopped me from drawing before.  I used to regularly put off my duties for art.  I got bad grades in school because I didn't want to pay attention.  I didn't want to do homework because I wanted to be outside imagining things, and creating.  So why now, that I try to sedate my art, am I still not doing anything I need to do?  I need to do art to make myself do other things.  It's weird, but it made sense.

My brain is lashing out.  The other night after an intense discussion with my oldest brother over living conditions that I will not delve into, but suffice it to say, he is my landlord right now, I had a weird dream.  A dream in which I was trying to keep a chihuahua sized pet shark in a ten gallon tank.  He barely had enough room to turn around in there.  I was stuck in a really weird situation where I was wondering why I had ever wanted a pet shark in the first place.  Why on earth did I get a pet shark?  And it was hard for me because when I get a pet, I love them, and feel extremely responsible for them.  So I was embarrassed at the state my shark was in knowing that it was not the ideal living conditions for a pet shark.  And I felt the best decision was to find my pet shark a new home.  I don't normally let pets go, and try to improve their lives if I feel I am failing as an owner.  But for whatever reason, I was embarrassed of getting in trouble, and losing my other pets over the state of this shark.  So I didn't want to show him to anybody, but I needed to to get him out of that situation, and let him go.  The resolution of the dream ended with me giving this shark away to somebody I felt would appreciate the shark much more than me, and take far superior care of it.  And then I had peace of mind letting the shark go to another person.  And I woke up half way with the distinct impression that my mind was trying to sort out an issue, but I couldn't quite translate what it was saying this time, though I knew what my brain was doing.  I can't help but still wonder what that shark has to do with anything.  But I felt very in tune to my mind.  And it has been desperately trying to tell me to create.

So back to tonight, I finally found peace of mind.  I may not be writing the piece I wanted to start writing, however, I did get myself to write a journal.  I felt that was a decent compromise.  I still don't know why I am sedating myself.  I don't know why I put my creativity in the back seat, and am ignoring it.  But I felt this was a good compromise.  I have been told recently that even baby steps bear fruit, and are better than sitting still.  Maybe that's what this is.  A baby step in the right direction.  I read that creative people don't keep normal schedules, and while I haven't been creating nearly enough, I am still keeping up with my insomniatic night owl behavior right now even though I am trying so hard to get to bed earlier.  And tonight, I am using it to write this journal.  Here's to hoping that while I didn't completely break the wall down, I am at least scaling it a bit.  At least I am chipping a crack in it.  I feel I might even be able to peek through and see the potential on the other side.