Steph to the second power, it could be worse. My last checkupy type doctor had to be picked from a list, too. I never know how to pick doctors, so I just went with the one that had a name sounding like a local fast food chain because it made me laugh. He turned out to be a late 60s-early70s guy who chatted with the nurse like he was shining shoes or something during the stirrup thing. It was a little weird, but freaking hilarious at the same time.

Kat, I totally know what you're going through. It's been a really really long time (since college, maybe) since I've done my own thing art-wise. And when you think about it, was it ever really entirely your own thing if it was an assignment? I mean,there was some stuff that was way funny that I felt really good about like the teddy bears cartoon, the bigass painting of the puking guy, the series about stuff I'd recently done for a quarter... (did you ever see that last one? freaking funny) Other assignments were exactly that. Assignments. Those ones (a lot of them happened in Intro to Animation) felt really dead and lame. There's plenty of art I've done for work, but my own stuff? Virtually nonexistent lately. I'd like to say hey, it's the move, I just haven't gotten settled enough yet to do another short or a painting or start writing that crazy story that's been in the back of my head forever about the eyeball on steroids. The move excuse is a load of crap. I wasn't working on anything back in Cali, either. A while ago VeAnn bought me a copy of a book called The Artist's Way - it talks about either just starting or getting back into writing, drawing, painting, running through the streets wearing nothing but a smile, whatever creative thing it is you're having problems getting back into. It was really good for me, but then like a jerk I slacked off again. Laaaaaaame. I may go through the book again; if you want we could do it together. (Not do IT, you sick perverts reading this.)

No more personalized messages today, the rest of you are s.o.l. I will leave you one funny - my siblings and I call applesauce "pplsc" (pronounced "pluh-sus")because we're too poor for the vowels.

Another fun being-poor-game is to walk into a room where someone's reading, watching tv, eating, whatever. Turn the light off, shout "We can't afford electricity!", then run.