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Writer's Block: So close to reality.

Imagine an online game which is so close to reality, that you can feel and touch your opponent. What sport, activity or game would you want to play?



A life game similar to SIMS. With all of the abilities of real life...
Yes- I'm insinuating VR Sex.

C'Mon. You know you were thinking the same damn thing.

Coming Home- We Need Help

As of two months ago I was accepted to Wayne State University. Jeremy and I have been excited to move home ever since that day. We've missed the flow of Metro Detroit, the places and the people. And we've been struggling to put together enough money to make the move for over 45 days.


Today I'm buckling- and I'm asking for help.


Jeremy is open for commissions- both digital and traditional. Anyone interested can PM me here or him at Crisis.hour@gmail.com

Payment for the commissions is taken through paypal.com, sent to Jeremy's email- which again is Crisis.hour@gmail.com


Digital Commissions of One Character-

$5 - Head/Bust sketch

$10 - Lines

$15 - Lines with quick color

$30 - Color sketch


Traditional Commissions of One or Two Characters-

Sketch Card (2.5x3.5)

Inks- $25.00

Full color- $40.00


5x7

Inks- $50.00

Full color- $75.00


8.5x11

Inks- $75.00

Full color- $100.00


11x17

Inks- $100.00

Full color- $150.00


But if for some reason you aren't interested in a piece of art from Jeremy- and you'd still like to help, I'm putting up a donate button here. Anything is appreciated. Every dollar makes a difference.





Thanks Guys- if for nothing other than taking the time to read this.


-Lisa

Writer's Block: Trick or treat

Do you plan to dress up this year? If so, who or what are you going to be?


Yes, and something unique too- for the first time in years.
I'm going to be Gertrude Yorkes (aka Arsenic) from the marvel teen team 'The Runaways'.
And its going to rock.

food

I want food to stop being so comforting.
I want another wholesome feeling.

I sit full and want to keep eating... because I want the comfort of the process.

*sighs*
I'm digging my own grave.

For everyone's future reference...

1/2 oz Absolut Kurant Vodka
1/4 oz Grand Marnier
1/4 oz Chambord
1/4 oz Midori Melon Liqueur
1/4 oz Malibu Coconut Rum
1/4 oz Amaretto
1/2 oz Cranberry Juice
1/4 oz Pineapple Juice

The drink ingredients listed above, once combined are called a 1-900-FUKMEUP cocktail.
For anyone looking to get seriously shit-faced drunk- take two of these and call me in the morning.

A place to read from

http://liferunningfree.blogspot.com/

That there is the link to a running blog about a chubby girl who is trying her damnedest
to complete the 'Couch to 5k' program.
(Its my blog- check it out!)

Tags:

Doing something about it.

It. Weight.
It. Pain in my hips and shins.
It. Self Loathing.
It. Looking in the mirror with disappointment and regret.
It. Wishing, wanting- whining.

I've been dreaming about who I could be, and what I could feel about myself.
I've had high hopes and crazy aspirations.
Diets have come and gone, exercise videos and positive encouragement too.

Tonight I started the Couch to 5K program (C25k).
I spent 30 minutes outside of my home, in the cool night air- trying not to drop dead on the pavement.
5 minutes of a brisk walk had my shins in pain, the extra oomph in my step too much to handle.
60 seconds of jogging then- and the shins began to scream.
Back to walking, 90 seconds... suddenly this didn't seem so bad.
Jogging again, another minute.
A minute and a half of walking never felt so good.
One foot in front of the other- keep jogging... 60 more seconds.
Walk now... breathe- in through the nose, out through the mouth (my gym teachers should be proud).

Each time I hit my 60 second mark, I felt a surge of pride rush through my body.
"I'm an overweight, inactive, unhealthy woman who just ran a minute!"
(Hey- it may not seem like much to you but this is a HUGE accomplishment for me.)
The 90 seconds of walking in theory seems like too much, "Oh just keep pushing- you only need a minute long rest- let it be equal!" But no, really- the 90 seconds is perfect.
Somewhere between 75 and 90, the body seems to reclaim itself- lungs no longer napalm slathered.
And back to the jog- the 60 seconds of glory.

When we hit 10 minutes I could have sworn my C25k partner was lying through his filthy little teeth,
but reassurance through sporadic breaths and a quick self calculation told me he was being honest.
I couldn't believe I'd been at it for 10 minutes without fail, without a "damn this hurts" or a "I need to sit down". I smiled (goofy as hell I'm sure), and I could feel the pain in my chest lessen. I began to focus on my heartbeat, the rhythm of my drumbeat breathing, the beautiful shadow stretched out before me beckoning forth every ounce of willpower I possessed.

Then I asked- "How.. many... more.... minutes?" staring out down the deserted road.
"Our last minute now..." my partner replied.
For a moment I thought I might cry, joy swelling in me for the simple task of picking up my damn feet.
"How about this- jog home?" He asked.
I croaked a laugh- "I can't promise anything... " I breathed heavily- "But I'll try."
I pushed my chubby little ass 90 seconds and a cramp in my left side but I just couldn't make it home.
I walked the last block still smiling- sweat dripping down my back, arms raised high above my head in glory... and a need to breathe.

The best part?
I feel wonderful.
Something else wicked cool?
I'm writing.
How much better can it get?
I'll let you know what happens the next time I "run".


5k here I come.
-Lisa

Tags:

May. 4th, 2010

"That's the American Dream, to make your life into something you can sell." - Chuck Palahniuk

Question of the day folks-
Why are our lives only worth something if we have something to give for which to profit from?



I struggle with this every day.

Writer's Block: Love on LiveJournal

Have you ever had a crush on another LiveJournal user? If so, did you confess your feelings? What happened?


We got married.

The story thus far...

My family moved to Southern California in early July.
We moved on the pretense of help with our business and provided income for 6 months.
When we arrived all the promises proved to be lies. We were left stranded with one good friend to help.
The truth though is that one friend cannot fix your problems, we had to do everything we could to find a place to live.
We were lucky, we found a place... at the cost of every ounce of income we were bringing in each month.
Cost of living in California was/is so beyond our means that we have struggled each month since arriving in Santa Maria. Luckily we received help from the state, unluckily they have been slowly taking away the meager funds they were providing to us. Each month is more of a struggle and my family falls deeper into a state of fear and anxiety.
We decided that with all the promises left unfulfilled, we could not possibly remain here in "SoCal" for any longer. It was high time to move where we have wanted to be for over 4 years, North Carolina. About 2 months ago I began the search on Craigslist, trying to find homes that would accommodate us with the amenities we would need. I searched long and hard when I finally found a beautiful townhome in a small historic town 45 minutes northeast of Charlotte. I can barely think about this place without my eyes misting up and my heart fluttering in desire. I have never longed so deeply to be somewhere before, yet here I am.
We began making plans a few weeks prior, figuring costs to make the move, discussing the best options for getting our family across country in one piece. At this point we understood where the money was coming from and where it would go. We KNEW what would be in our hands, and what we would have to work with. Unfortunately, the truth is that it doesn't matter if you've received the same check every two weeks for 45 years- anything can happen. Any chaos can be the stick in the spokes of your bike tire that makes you fall flat on your face.
This is where we are now. The money we KNEW would be here- hasn't come. Payments that should have arrived still are not here, art that should have been completed has not been sent over for finishing touches, cards that should have been received are still in the process of "getting here" and none of it is really our fault- but we end up suffering.
We sit here wondering what we will do now... where we will turn. $1200 that we saved had to go our current landlord who refused to accept our security deposit as rent payment and also refuses to say whether or not any part of our security deposit will be returned. Our water has been shut off because of non-payment and a pocket so empty that not even the moths will linger.
We cannot stay, the landlord was already informed of our move. We cannot afford to search for a new home here, and do not wish to. We need to make $3500 in less than 16 days... and we- I- am simply lost.

If anyone could give me an answer, help me realize something that I'm not seeing.
I'm not one to look for handouts, I feel too proud too often to expect others to help in my situation...
yet I feel that maybe its time to start asking for help.

I've got my fingers crossed for North Carolina, and a God-sent miracle.


-Lisa

P.S. - Although I'm not a fan of handouts, I'm willing to do what is necessary.
If you wish to donate something to our cause, or want to give money in return for a great piece of Jeremy's art, please give a mighty click on the button below. (If you are sending some sort of payment for art, please also email Jeremy at Crisis.hour@gmail.com to let him know that you've sent money and what you want from him)

Jeremy's art rates are as follows:

Full Color 2.5 x 3.5 (sketchcard)- $50.00
Full Color 8.5 x 11- $125.00
Full Color 11 x 17- $200.00