(no subject)

For the last two days I have been mightily annoyed, fairly obsessive, quick to anger, pissed off, angry, and frustrated.

Sure sign that my medication has finally completely and totally worn off.

And no signs of a job anytime soon.

This is completely pissing me off. No one wants to hire a freak like me. Retail work won't hire me because of a hundred issues, but never the real one: I'm not pretty, I'm not cute, I'm not even the person I present myself as. Sure they don't SAY it outloud...that would be descrimination. No they worm around it, finding things that they sayI dn't have or do...knowing full well that I do.

I don't argue, though. I've already lost the job, why antagonize everyone by saying "It's the girl thing isn't it?"

I knew going into this a decade ago it could get this way. I knew five years ago it could get this bad. I knew two years ago that this was a distinct possibility.

I didn't realize just how LONG it would get this bad.

Looking back at my life...I see that I'm EXACTLY back in 1996. I'm living at home, with openly hostile parents, with no job, no medication, no way out. Only this time, no one wants ME. LAst time I cuold get any job I wanted. Now, they see me as a freak, a freak that can't get a job picking up garbage.

It IS 1996, again. I've retreated to my room. I haven't been out all day. I don't want to be out at all. There's nothing there for me. I'm tired of waking up each day, hoping beyond hope that today will be different. That I will get a job. That I will move out. That I will get my life back on track.

Everyday that hope is crushed.

For those of you who aren't transgendered. For those of you who pass. For those of you who never ever thought of the concept. Thank whatever god you believe in. Thank Providence. Hell, if you're an athiest, thank blind chance.

This is a curse I wouldn't wish on anyone. It's a horrible existence knowing that you are a freak, and, that while friends will care, the rest of the world will be openly hostile.

I regret not blowing my brains out that cold morning. I regret a lot of things.

I am so tired of life. I am so very very tired.

(And those of you who think I'll do the worst - don't. I already tried to kill myself and failed. No point in trying again....)

Got my DVD region free with the new improved software. Yay me.

(no subject)

For the last two days I have been mightily annoyed, fairly obsessive, quick to anger, pissed off, angry, and frustrated.

Sure sign that my medication has finally completely and totally worn off.

And no signs of a job anytime soon.

This is completely pissing me off. No one wants to hire a freak like me. Retail work won't hire me because of a hundred issues, but never the real one: I'm not pretty, I'm not cute, I'm not even the person I present myself as. Sure they don't SAY it outloud...that would be descrimination. No they worm around it, finding things that they sayI dn't have or do...knowing full well that I do.

I don't argue, though. I've already lost the job, why antagonize everyone by saying "It's the girl thing isn't it?"

I knew going into this a decade ago it could get this way. I knew five years ago it could get this bad. I knew two years ago that this was a distinct possibility.

I didn't realize just how LONG it would get this bad.

Looking back at my life...I see that I'm EXACTLY back in 1996. I'm living at home, with openly hostile parents, with no job, no medication, no way out. Only this time, no one wants ME. LAst time I cuold get any job I wanted. Now, they see me as a freak, a freak that can't get a job picking up garbage.

It IS 1996, again. I've retreated to my room. I haven't been out all day. I don't want to be out at all. There's nothing there for me. I'm tired of waking up each day, hoping beyond hope that today will be different. That I will get a job. That I will move out. That I will get my life back on track.

Everyday that hope is crushed.

For those of you who aren't transgendered. For those of you who pass. For those of you who never ever thought of the concept. Thank whatever god you believe in. Thank Providence. Hell, if you're an athiest, thank blind chance.

This is a curse I wouldn't wish on anyone. It's a horrible existence knowing that you are a freak, and, that while friends will care, the rest of the world will be openly hostile.

I regret not blowing my brains out that cold morning. I regret a lot of things.

I am so tired of life. I am so very very tired.

(And those of you who think I'll do the worst - don't. I already tried to kill myself and failed. No point in trying again....)

Got my DVD region free with the new improved software. Yay me.

HALP!

Anyone out there have AGaramond Font? Anyone? PLEASE?

I have Garamond, and I used to have AGaramond...but that went AWOL, and my disc with it is in Austin. HALP!

HALP!

Anyone out there have AGaramond Font? Anyone? PLEASE?

I have Garamond, and I used to have AGaramond...but that went AWOL, and my disc with it is in Austin. HALP!

"All creation mocks me." "That may have something to do with your long distance carrier."

FONT UPDATE.

Jenn Dolari is an imbecile.

Every single website I'd gone too mentioned taht htis was an Adobe Font. Every single website mentioned there WAS no TTF file. Every single website mentioned you had to BUY the font.

So I talked to Dean. Dean and I used to do graphic design and document creation professionally. We know our fonts. So I asked for a copy of AGaramond from him.

And I got it.

And they weren't TTF files. Then I read the little readme he added.

I forgot all about Adobe Type Manager.

Completely.

I checked it out, and there it was - AGaramond. Along with all m yother fonts that had dissapeared.

I hang my head in shame. What a maroon. :)

"All creation mocks me." "That may have something to do with your long distance carrier."

FONT UPDATE.

Jenn Dolari is an imbecile.

Every single website I'd gone too mentioned taht htis was an Adobe Font. Every single website mentioned there WAS no TTF file. Every single website mentioned you had to BUY the font.

So I talked to Dean. Dean and I used to do graphic design and document creation professionally. We know our fonts. So I asked for a copy of AGaramond from him.

And I got it.

And they weren't TTF files. Then I read the little readme he added.

I forgot all about Adobe Type Manager.

Completely.

I checked it out, and there it was - AGaramond. Along with all m yother fonts that had dissapeared.

I hang my head in shame. What a maroon. :)

This guy has more things wrong with him than fish-flavored soda.

I have done nothing today.

I woke up. Deposited some money for my mother. Went back in my room, and barely left.

I will be dragged out soon by paranoid parents who, despite the fact that I do not drink, smoke, or do a single drug, will consider me unhealthy and needful of being watched.

I have done nothing but sit here and brood.

Oh, and watch Battlebots. Yeah, Battlebots, rocks.

Brooding is a bad thing.

I've managed to dissect my life into little segments of "This is where you fucked up." "And this is where you fucked up" "And this ruined your childhood" "And this here is why no one talks to you" "And here is where PErson X made a fool of you" "Here's someone from high school that you still wish dead even though it's been a decade."

All the while, I sit and wait fo the next opportunity to go to sleep, wake up and be pelasantly surprised at the job offer on the phone.

I go out of my way to distract myself when I begin to brood. Lately it's been organizing my CDs (I don't know why I bother, mom wills ee that I'm organizing something and reorganize it the way SHE wants). Another is listening to Cowboy Bebop music. A third is watching DVDs. I haven't put pen to paper as of yet. I really should. I don't though.

Everyone out there tells me I draw excellently. That I have a gift. I think that's hunky-dory. I like drawing, and yes, it is a gift. But the main reason I don't draw more is that I have all these wonderful scenes, scenarios, camera shots that I want to put on paper...but I lack the experience or the ability to do it the way I want. My drawing style is vaguely anime-ish (Unless you live in the mid-80s, in which case it's cutting edge). This isn't how I see the figures in m yhead. The figures up there are as real as you or I. And when they finally block out a scene, I ahve to stop and tell them, I can't draw that way.

I tell stories, I draw them. But they're never the story I "see." Only the story I'm capable of telling. Only the way I am able to do it.

Now I'm going to do my fourht thing when I incessantly brood. I'm going to play Doom.

This guy has more things wrong with him than fish-flavored soda.

I have done nothing today.

I woke up. Deposited some money for my mother. Went back in my room, and barely left.

I will be dragged out soon by paranoid parents who, despite the fact that I do not drink, smoke, or do a single drug, will consider me unhealthy and needful of being watched.

I have done nothing but sit here and brood.

Oh, and watch Battlebots. Yeah, Battlebots, rocks.

Brooding is a bad thing.

I've managed to dissect my life into little segments of "This is where you fucked up." "And this is where you fucked up" "And this ruined your childhood" "And this here is why no one talks to you" "And here is where PErson X made a fool of you" "Here's someone from high school that you still wish dead even though it's been a decade."

All the while, I sit and wait fo the next opportunity to go to sleep, wake up and be pelasantly surprised at the job offer on the phone.

I go out of my way to distract myself when I begin to brood. Lately it's been organizing my CDs (I don't know why I bother, mom wills ee that I'm organizing something and reorganize it the way SHE wants). Another is listening to Cowboy Bebop music. A third is watching DVDs. I haven't put pen to paper as of yet. I really should. I don't though.

Everyone out there tells me I draw excellently. That I have a gift. I think that's hunky-dory. I like drawing, and yes, it is a gift. But the main reason I don't draw more is that I have all these wonderful scenes, scenarios, camera shots that I want to put on paper...but I lack the experience or the ability to do it the way I want. My drawing style is vaguely anime-ish (Unless you live in the mid-80s, in which case it's cutting edge). This isn't how I see the figures in m yhead. The figures up there are as real as you or I. And when they finally block out a scene, I ahve to stop and tell them, I can't draw that way.

I tell stories, I draw them. But they're never the story I "see." Only the story I'm capable of telling. Only the way I am able to do it.

Now I'm going to do my fourht thing when I incessantly brood. I'm going to play Doom.