Wednesday, July 9, 2014

All the Kinda Jobs

So, I technically started my internship.  
I also have a school-class that is supposed to… help?  Somehow?  
I don't know.  
All I know is that I look at the homework and make a face.

Apparently part time unpaid internships plus a three credit class don't count as enough to do for financial aid, so I'm a little bitter about that.  
…Also, we take our big test by week three, so what the Hell is the rest of the class for other than irritating otherwise busy, stressed, and not-paid students?
I guess to give us time to retake it if we fail.

...Hope I don't need that.

It's my first week at the hospital and already I have been able to make a lot of connections to Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. 
I find this both comforting and horrifying.

It's exciting though.  

I'm getting a calendar, I have a desk with a phone, and I'll even have a key to… things. 

Now, what made this sort of Alice-like was 

A. the computer system is actually called ALICE, and 
B. running around following my supervisor in order to meet new people was a little like following the White Rabbit.  

I found myself dragging behind and wondering if I was going to lose her in the endless maze that is those hallways. 

At one point, looking for a key for me, we went to someone higher up.  

Everyone is really nice, by the way.  
This is a very good thing. 

This particular very nice higher up person had a bowl of keys.  

My key was not in said bowl. 
She lamented the fact that she was unsure as to what the keys were even for.  

Someone else had handed them to her a while before.
They said things like, "Bin 2" and "Desk" but no indication of what such bin may contain or where such desk might sit.


I have been walked around that area of the building a few times now and I still have no idea how to get from point A to point B. 

All I know is that they keep the interns in the basement. 

No, like, seriously.

It wasn't nearly as scary as had been described, but the hallway is sort of thin and there isn't really a ceiling, so much as exposed pipes and such.  

A little Silent Hill-y, but I had no fear of Pyramid Head or anything. 

Once you get into the room, it's actually very cozy. 

Admittedly, it is a little odd to know I am physically replacing a previous intern. 

This makes sense, but it's still a little jarring to realize that her stuff was once right here, where my stuff is.  

I know she just moved on and may have even gotten a nice cushy job somewhere, but I had a sense like she was dead.

I'm pretty sure she isn't dead, but I didn't want to ask.

That seemed rude.

Either way, any worries were replaced knowing that I have those cubical walls where you can pin stuff up like a giant corkboard.  

Dad told me not to cover it in Batman.  

I'm an adult and I'll do what I want.

Overwhelming horror returned when I had to record not one, but THREE voicemails.  

I don't like the sound of my own voice, and recording things always leads to my sounding like I have eight thousand sticks shoved up my ass.

That actually wound up more harrowing than getting a needle shoved in my arm right before then.

Oh, wait…

Did I not mention that?

Yeah.  You know.  The PPD for tuberculosis and such. 
We had gotten my photo for my ID, and run over to the nice nurse to ask about what proof of what immunizations I'd need.  

Working in a hospital and occasionally wandering into the ER makes this pretty freaking important.

Once there, suddenly my supervisor has her arm exposed like, "LET'S DO THIS" and I'm sitting there saying, "Yes, hi, I'm terrified and confused and you just took a syringe out of like a mini-fridge? and what is happening I don't even-" and suddenly a needle was happening in my arm.

Now, obviously I've had this done before, and I had actually signed the needed paperwork…

I apparently don't like getting that kind of thing sprung on me, but in all fairness, if it hadn't gone that way, I would have had a lot of trouble mentally gearing up for it later.  

This way, it was done. 

Also, the thing didn't swell or anything.  

Just a little bruise.  

The nurse was even super cool because she used to be an allergy person at my allergy… place. 

So we talked about the drops and how they're working, and she told me that since I have allergies, my skin would do exactly what it did, so I didn't freak out.

Mind you, any little red splotches are not only usually very brief, but often a creation of my own brain-pan anyway. 

It's the worst of super powers.

WHEW.  Okay.  So.  That's that.

Donna is still going strong… (

OH!  If anyone would like to submit guest strips for, send an email to! 

Since updating that has taken a huge backseat to Donna, my internship, my class, my relationship, my sanity, and so on, I'm looking for help to fill in that gap.  

It can have however much swearing, violence, and so forth.  
Ideally, hand me an idea for a script/concept, and anything you'd like me to post under the comic about where to find more of your work or who you are/lwhat you do. 


Lastly, we are done the casting for EVE and are now in the beginnings of funding!
Check out, like us on Facebook (, or follow us on Twitter @EVEindiefilm for more news!


Tuesday, June 17, 2014

The Stress Egg

Imagine the overall state of your stress and mental well-being contained within an egg.  

Now, over time, that egg is bound to get a tiny little crack. 

After all, we live busy lives.  
We spend a lot of energy on other people, to the point of sometimes feeling guilty about taking care of ourselves. 

Taking care of ourselves is important. 

See, it's a problem when we ignore what we need.

It is an even bigger problem when that egg starts to crack, and we choose to do nothing about it. 

We don't want to worry anyone, and it starts so small that no one else notices anyway... 

So we say nothing. 

Every time we say we're fine when we're not, the crack gets bigger. 

Now, this is not a normal bird-egg.  

This is a person-egg.   
See, this egg has layers. 
This is part of why we tend to ignore the cracks. 

Different people and different situations means a different amount of layers, so it can be difficult to tell how many you have to begin with. 
Most of us overestimate the amount we have.

How fast these layers chip away depends on your overall mental health, stress level, daily activities, friends and supports...  

And if you aren't careful...

Eventually, you'll just be holding the yolk.  

It slips through fingers until you can't pretend anymore. 

Worry not! 

This is totally fixable. 

First, pick up what you can of that yolk. 
This means taking a step back to breathe. 
Think about what is happening in your life. 

Do not think about how to solve the world's problems.  
Just think about the things you are doing, and then attempt to put those "things" in a box to the side.
You'll deal with them later.
Right now, they are mucking up the yolk. 

Then, have friends/doctor/family hold the shell, while you gently pour it back in.  

In other words:

There is no shame in asking for assistance, and in some cases, asking for help can prevent such shedding of layers to begin with.

Once you've found someone to act as your assistant/partner/whatever, say what is going on. 
Being honest will help the process go smoothly, as everyone will be on the same page with what you need. 


Okay.  Now that you have the yolk back in the shell, the next step is to patch it all up. 
This is not about burying it! 
This is about building yourself back up in a safe way, while putting in some outlets to help keep you healthy. 

Now then...
Take out a piece of paper and start writing.  

Write what you need in your life.
This list can be as simple or as complicated as you like. 
Next, write down what you actually need to do. Here is where you narrow down all that other crap.
Make sure to include daily things for health and hygiene.  
Keep this one simple and to the point.

Talk about it with your assistant.  

Next, write what you wish would happen.
This is a best case scenario. 
Then, get more specific.  
Write steps you can take (even little steps!) to get to where you want to be.

Talk about it. 
This will place the words onto your egg to start the repairs.  

Keep the list somewhere handy.  

Next, get a new sheet of paper and write what makes you happy.

Do those things.
Think about why you enjoy them. 
Do them again.
Playing games, meditating, 

eating your favorite meal, drinking tea, 

going outside, taking a hot bath…

These will act as another layer.  

Now, this does not mean your egg will be as good as new. 
That takes time. 

The key thing is to repair enough in order to function again without feeling entirely overwhelmed.  

The other half after that is maintaining some elements of self care, and remembering that you are a human being.  

You are not a robot. 

This is your life.

You are a person, and that is important. 

Remember that you are not alone in this journey. 

If at any point before, during, or after, you feel the need or simply want to talk to a counselor, don't be afraid to go ahead and do so. 


People tend to think you have to already be in crisis to talk to a professional, but preventative medicine is important for your mind as well as your body. 

Think of it like any other check up.

Be gentle with your egg. 

Be good to yourself. 

Monday, June 2, 2014

Busy With All The Wrong Things

It's been a while since last I updated you all on what the Hell I've been doing, so let's get down to business. 

Shuffle has been published on a small scale.  I'm told more will be coming?  We'll see.  This is a little preview of my part of it (without the final shading, words... anything):

If you'd like to purchase a copy, right now copies ARE limited, so your best bet is to email me a request at

Oh Hell, Donna! is still updating every Wednesday.  

...And I've got a couple character designs all ready to go for a storyline that won't show up for like another year or something:

AND Deddrie is actually ALSO still updating:

I just tend to promote that less because… Well… I mean, look at him.  He's ridiculous.  I know what this is.

Found some older drawings that need finishing though:

AND the Society6 page is still going strong.  
Soon, there will also be a Storenvy. 


AAAND I entered a shirt contest thing with THIS at welovefine, though the rating period doesn't start for a few more days: 

EDIT: Contest is over.  Whoops.



As far as the other half of what I do, I DID manage to get an internship. 
Fairly last minute and coated in chaos, this internship is actually much closer to something I would be happy (ish) doing, rather than all of the other internships that were available to me. 

If I'm going to work for free, I'd like to not hate it.

Getting to the interview was an adventure, and made me feel a little like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. 

"No, seriously, I was told to wait here.  I don't want to go through that door.  Please don't buzz me in again-"
And suddenly I was on the other side of said door. 

Just a thought here, but if you have to BUZZ people in before they can open the door, shouldn't you be checking to see who these people are first? 

What if I was a crazy(er) person?

In any case, everyone was very nice. 

Training starts tonight! 

…And then maybe I'll have a real post.


In the meantime, have a look at some of the stupid things that have been coming out of my brain this past month: 

Mermaid, kinda: 

This one is pretty typical of me:


Friday, May 2, 2014

Dating the Marvel/DC Universe

My relationship with comic books has become a little like a weird dating scene. 

DC and I used to be incredibly close. 
Any new title, I was there, being supportive and loving. 
No matter what the villains did, I had faith that the heroes would be… Well… Heroes. 


Then DC started getting weird on me. 


Too dark.

I don't mean that I was ever that into DC's BIF! POW! phase, but at least it was charming. 
This was different.

Suddenly, everyone had to be alone. 

NO one was allowed to have friends. 
Not even Superman

Characters like Bruce Wayne suddenly had no cares about family or legacy, which were pretty much key points to said characters. 

Worst of all, I watched as DC started treated women very badly.

Women who had been there since the beginning were killed off.

Women who had been plot movers and game changers were erased entirely.

Women who were smart and caring and all manner of other things were reduced to objects for the men. 

I was hurt.

…DC had broken my heart and I felt embarrassed to say I had ever been a fan.

DC threw away YEARS of our time together like I had meant nothing. 

After all, I was just another woman. 

Disheartened, I went to the comic book store. 
It was time to move on and shop around for someone new, right?

…Was I ready to move on?

Dark Horse was there, of course. 
Dark Horse and I always had a good time when we were together, but we hardly got to see each other anymore.

I found myself not having much to talk about beyond old titles from our history together. 
It was difficult to find any new ground. 

Still, Dark Horse was comforting in my hour of graphic novel need.

Madman never let me down...


I wanted something more steady.

I wanted something that could give me movies so I could talk about characters with other fans who hadn't read the comics. 
Or someone with cartoons-
…like DC. 


I missed DC.

Batman: The Animated Series…

You know, DC is still good for an animated movie once in a while, but no one else seems to pay any attention to it, so it feels like some kind of dirty secret.

I wind up saying, "NO!  You don't understand!  DC isn't like that!  You just don't know DC like I do!"  …And then I realize what that sounds like.


In the back of the room, looking all cool…

There was Marvel.

Now, I knew Marvel in passing. 
I mean, my father hung out with Marvel just as much as he had DC, so I thought I had a good idea of what Marvel was all about.

Back in the day, I had pushed Marvel away when I saw what the Fantastic Four were like to each other. 
They were mean in the comics, replacing key characters at the drop of a hat.
Plus, there was that time where EVERYONE was a mutant. 

Of course… 

There was Iron Man.

Iron Man had been good to me.
Even as a playboy, Tony wasn't outright cruel to anyone. 
Iron Man was allowed to have friends.
He had been with me even when I left for art school, and honestly, I realize that I just kind of… 

Well, I ignored him. 

I hadn't really given Iron Man a chance. 

You know…

I hadn't given a lot of Marvel a chance. 
I guess I judged all of the characters by their friends. 

Still, Marvel had never peaked my interest before. 

I mean, Marvel just wasn't DC.

…But maybe that was the whole point. 
Maybe I needed Marvel for that very reason.

What was Marvel going to do with someone like me though?

Marvel spotted me as I stood there among all the options.
Marvel said, "I know it's been a while, but I'm different now.  You've grown up, and I've grown up too."

That set up a red flag for me. 
After all, DC was "different" now. 
More "grown up" too.

DC had started wearing the name tag of "New 52" and started all that awful violence with no purpose, heroes with no friends… 
Sexist, racist, AND it carried right over into the movies! 
And I just-

"No, no" Marvel said, putting a cool hand up, "It isn't like that.  What I've done?  I call it Ultimate.  You'll see.  Just give me a chance.  There's women.  We even brought some back from the dead!  There's people of color in real hero roles.  No more sidelines bullshit.  Trust me.  Just give me one try." 
Marvel handed me something Hawkeye related.

Clint Barton and…  Kate Bishop? 

And the movies! 

MY GOD the movies.

Marvel put hands in coat pockets, shrugging while giving me a disclaimer, "Sure, people still get sexualized, but you never had a problem with that, right?"  Marvel blushed. 
We started laughing together. 
I guess Marvel was paying attention. 

After all, in Marvel films, it was an even playing field. 
Marvel added, "I mean, Black Widow's zipper may go down a little at one point, but the camera stays on Captain America's butt for like 80% of the film."

Now, I knew DC had been trying. 
Batwoman showed promise, some of the other female characters were being brought back in...
But I just didn't trust DC anymore. 

...I wanted to. 

I was still hurt.  I needed time.

DC needed time.

It was the recent films that really turned me off to DC, though I did find the action packed whatever-the-Hell-they-were entertaining. 

They were nice to look at, but the characters I knew and loved were nowhere to be found, replaced by soulless, angry, violent, frightening-

They weren't heroes anymore. 

And where the Hell was Wonder Woman???

Comics be damned, it is a new world and I just can't be satisfied anymore without good, live-action films. 
What about MY needs, DC?

for now,
I have to move on.

Marvel stood, waiting patiently by the door with two tickets for yet another Marvel film. 

I looked longingly over at DC…
"Well," I said, taking the Marvel comic to the register, "We'll always have Batman: The Animated Series." 

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

The Anxiety Monster

My Knight and I were talking about what our anxiety looks like, assuming it has been personified into some kind of horrible creature.  

We very quickly came up with this:

It was quick because, well, OF COURSE it looks like that.  

Now, on good days, there are people who can ignore the anxiety monster.  

I've never been so good at that, so while he isn't the most threatening thing in the world to me, (these days) he can still be super creepy.  



Though, for the most part, he's just kind of annoying.  
He is annoying in the way that he does shit like this:  

He is the opposite of helpful. 

He also enjoys SCREAMING in the middle of the night.

Normally I'd give some advice on how to deal with the anxiety monster.  
I usually try to use these kinds of posts to offer some helpful hints on how to avoid the ball of stress I had become in my life.  

Unfortunately, I haven't quite figured out how to get rid of this guy.