halp

Clear communication is extremely important to me. I try to maintain a large working vocabulary so that I can choose the precise word I need for any given moment. If I don’t explain something clearly then that is time wasted and I can’t live like that. Being able to express myself to another person in a concise manner is possibly my most valued skill, in myself and others really, and I can’t overstate this enough.

But then some days, I can’t do it at all. On the day of this comic, not only could I not find the right words, I was actually saying the complete wrong words. I was WRITING the wrong words. I couldn’t hear or see, either. It was a mess. I was a mess. It was making me all in a tizzy. I still sometimes have these moments and I still worry. What does it mean? Am I okay?

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We have a lot of fears. Some make sense; others, not so much. This latter type will be featured once monthly until we run out of material, at which point, we might begin accepting the fears of our readers. 

pranks

I’m not sure if I actually have “social anxiety,” or if I just have anxious times while out and about, or if maybe I had it once, and am doing better now. But very definitely for a while this was a very serious concern of mine. Ever since I was a child and saw TV’s Bloopers and Practical Jokes, starring that dream team of Dick Clark and Ed McMahon, I became horrified by the idea that people would film pranks and then air them on television for the viewing public to see. Later, there have been plenty of other such shows, some meaner than others, and of course now there is YouTube and I’m even going to include improv groups who like to make “magic” in the form of awkward public scenes. Shudder.

I’m aware that I think legally, for the most part, they have people sign release forms to be displayed on television. But I am not sure what YouTube does to protect the average kid from being the target of such. Probably nothing. Look! I’m talking myself right back into having this as a strong irrational fear again! I know that this is statistically remote, but oh god, the horror. It is enough to make me never want to leave the house again. I can trust no one.

There is no love quite like the love of a pet. They’re always there for us, when we’re sick, sad, or lonely. They’ll play with us and keep us company. They are therapists and confidants, best friends and playmates. Unconditional love for a small adoption fee.

When I was about seventeen, my neighbors adopted a kitten for their daughter and named him Samson. Children can be fickle creatures, and it turned out that their daughter wasn’t hugely interested in having a cat, so Samson was pretty much left to his own devices.

He was a longhair, mostly blue-gray, but with a white patch on his chin down to his tummy, and on the tips of his paws. He had beautiful, piercing green eyes.

samson

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I love sleep but I often feel like I do not get enough, and I don’t really have any experience with successfully falling asleep with any regularity unless I am exhausted. However, I have little tricks to help me get in the mood for sleep. Often, these tricks involve YouTube or Netflix.

zzz

Once upon a time, I could not sleep if the television or radio were on, because I’d want to pay attention to it, whatever it was. But along the way, I have discovered a few shows that I have seen so often, or have been watching when I was already exhausted often enough that I have made a mental link between the two, that I am lulled into snoozeland within an hour.

There are a few television shows with live actors that I can sleep to, sometimes against all odds, such as Always Sunny in Philadelphia. I can let that play on Netflix for days and be soothed, despite the fact that they never stop screaming or being unbelievably hostile. But I find that what really does the trick are animated shows. It isn’t that I am returned to an age where I could sleep easily, because these are all shows I have watched in adulthood, mostly. Nevertheless, they possess a quality, each one of them, that guides me to where I want to be. Maybe they can do the same for you? Plenty can be found in YouTube in full, but in some cases, you’re going to have to find them yourself. Good luck.

 

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Apparently, I am going to quote the bible. Are you ready? “When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things.”

no opinions here

I totally agree, Christian bible, in spite of our other differences. At some point in your life, you do have to put away childish things. But first, you have to decide what those childish things are. It takes years and maturity to discover that what was once appropriate is no longer. This is not to say that you cannot watch cartoons or play with toys, but that you shouldn’t still pick your nose or slap dogs in the face (not that children should either).

 

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We have a lot of fears. Some make sense; others, not so much. This latter type will be featured once monthly until we run out of material, at which point, we might begin accepting the fears of our readers. 

no

In this instance, I once again firmly believe that I am experiencing a rational fear, and always have behaved this way. Is it so improbable that while cooking, a little burst of oil would alter the course of my life? Maybe a face wouldn’t melt into an unmanageable tangle of scar tissue, but imagine what that would do to an eye. I have felt it on my arm! It hurts!

If I have to fry an egg or goetta or something, I am nothing but a mess of flinching and I actually stand several feet away until I have to draw near again. I just can’t get over my certainty that the moment I let my guard down or am caught by surprise because somehow water got into the pan, the oil will go straight for my face. Asking me to fry up a food is met with the same sort of reluctance as if you had asked me to volunteer to risk getting repeatedly snapped by mouse traps. If I offer to fry food for you for any reason, it means I like you enough to be brave, even though this comic shows that I am a big ol’ coward.

 

There are many kinds of mysteries in this confusing, mixed up world. We often find ourselves trapped in darkness, trying to solve a murder case, maybe, or seeking to understand what on the surface appears to be a supernatural phenomenon. Whole civilizations have been lost and we still don’t know why. Statues may weep tears of blood, drawing crowds of thousands of hopeful people, yearning to see a miracle.

Some mysteries are on a much smaller scale, but are no less perplexing and miraculous. Some mysteries appear on your own body! A mystery appeared on mine.

candiiiice

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People often ask me “why did you do that to your walls did you ask for permission?” It’s a loaded question, so I choose my own way to answer. I ARTED it, and my landlord doesn’t care, although I did not ask her first. So here is the story for y’all.

Years ago I requested a series of murals from Amandoll on my apartment walls. I didn’t ask for a set all at once, or for something reasonable. I frequently changed my mind and frequently let her know. Pokémon, Muppet Babies… I wanted it all. But I also felt a strange sense of ownership; I wanted to do it myself.

Of course, I can’t draw very well. The evidence is clear, although I have been improving, by all accounts.

The O.C. on Dollissa's Wall

 

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