Assholes.

A friend of mine shared this and I have to say, I’m offended. Normally, I just ignore political stuff, leaving my friends to their opinions, even when I disagree with them for whatever reason. I think, as long as they’re voting, and they’re informed, who cares which way they vote? But this offended the hell out of me.

My mom was on welfare when I was a kid. It was so she could finish college and get a job that would pay her more so she could take better care of her kids. She wasn’t on it long. Maybe two years? Three? Not all that long, when you think about it. I also knew someone who was getting food stamps, but worked. They had a kid and working at McDonalds didn’t pay them enough to feed their kid, but they only had a high school diploma, and they were going to school part time. Like my mom, they were trying to step out of the poverty they found themselves in, and needed a little help up to do it. The food stamps meant her kid didn’t go hungry, and she had money for rent.

Welfare was put into place to give the poor a little help stepping up. Not everyone understands what it’s like to be poor. They think ‘why not try harder?’ or something equally ridiculous. If you don’t know what it’s like to be in that position, if you’ve never been there, then you really shouldn’t judge others for being there. They’re born poor. It’s not as easy to get out of that place as you’d think. If you’ve never lived or experienced living in a ghetto, or understand the mentality that you’re surrounded by there, or the sense of despair, how dare you judge someone that takes advantage of a system that gives them a little help out of that place?

People who use the Welfare system, or who get food stamps, or use government assistance to go to college, are not taking a handout. They’re taking a hand up. If it weren’t for those programs, there’d be more crime, more desperation, more poverty. Would you really want to take away the only life rafts they have? Would you tell them to swim harder if they were drowning? Because that’s essentially what taking those programs away would mean. I’m sure Romney’s father appreciated the Welfare program he took advantage of when he first came to America after fleeing Mexico. Where would Romney’s family be if it weren’t for that hand up they received? Probably nowhere near the White House.

So, for all those people who are so willing to take food and shelter from those that are beyond a level of poverty than you can understand, try to put yourself in their shoes. Try to imagine what it’s like being born into a family that has to decide if they’ll be able to make rent or feed their children  Try to imagine what it’s like to have to tell your kids that they have a choice between Christmas presents or a Christmas tree, because you can only afford one or the other. Try to imagine what it’s like to look at your kids and wonder how you’re going to provide for them because you don’t have a way out of the life they were unfortunately born to. Try growing up knowing there’s no money for college, or food, or school supplies, or new clothes.

Try imagine growing up seeing your friends get things you could never hope to have, or hearing them bitch about their allowance and not knowing what that’s like, because your family has never had money to spare. Try imagine the shame you feel when you have to buy groceries with food stamps, but you swallow that shame because you have kids, and they have to eat. If you don’t know what that feels like, then don’t judge someone, because you can’t know what they’re going through, or feeling, or how much of yourself you have to swallow just to take that hand up, because it’s the only hand up out of that pit.

Look, Art!

So my sister opened up the Trickster Store in Berkeley, which is awesome for the record, and wanted stuff for the Halloween show. She asked me to do some pinups, so I did. I have a mummy in the wings, but couldn’t finish that one due to the amount of hurting that doing the other two caused. Oh, and I did a third one, but it was for a friend, not for the store, and it isn’t even really ‘mine’ so much as me copying a Shane Glines picture (to view the original, click here).

Here are the three pinups I did. I’ll post the mummy one once I’ve painted it:

Fatty McFaterson

I’ve been seeing a lot of stuff about Jennifer Livingston’s response to someone commenting about her weight. In addition to the letter she’s responded to, I’ve also seen a bunch of comments about not blaming her weight on other issues, like thyroid issues, which she apparently has, or any assortment of things, and I’m disgusted by it.

I’m fat. I know I’m fat. I look in the mirror and think ‘yup, I’m fat’. I’m reminded of my fattiness when I get dress, or shower, or do just about anything. I also can’t walk half the time, and that isn’t due to my fatness, but due to a list of things medically wrong with me. Would I like to be able to walk more, or exercise, or do a number of other things to lose the weight? Hell yes. Can I? No. Because the minute I walk for too long, I pay for it for the next few days with pain. Not to mention, the walking is painful in ways you will never understand unless you happen to be in my body. So yes, I’m fat. You have no idea how hard it is to lose weight when all you can do is alter your eating habits. Eating habits which, for the record, are harder to control when you can’t actually stand up and do the cooking because most of the time that’s too painful to do anyway.

So to anyone out there that wants to yell at fat people and tell them that they just need to get off their fat asses, shut up. You don’t know what that person deals with daily, what that person has gone though, or what they do to deal with their condition. They may be dealing with soul-crushing depression, a thyroid issue, or have pain issues like I do. They might be poor and unable to afford a personal trainer or dietitian to help them figure out the best way to help them curb their cravings or bad eating habits. Also, when you’re poor, it’s easier to eat crap food than healthy food. Healthy food is expensive. A box of Ramen is cheap. You can get six of those for a buck. That’s six meals. How many meals does a dollar get you when you’re shopping at Whole Foods?

In closing, I guess I just have to say, stop judging people by what they look like. Wait until you know them better, then judge them. You’d probably have more ammunition by then. Instead of judging someone because they’re overweight, you could be judging them because they like The Lake House or something. If you ask me, that’s a better reason to judge someone. That movie was horrible.

You Can Rant If You Want To...

* Degenerative disc disease

* Osteoarthritis

* Pinched nerves in my neck and lower back (and permanent nerve damage to my right side) that causes weakness and numbness in my legs, arms, and shoulders 

* Chronic and pretty much weekly migraines or just daily headaches

* Bursitis in both hips

* Knees that hurt and make noise, but I don't know what's wrong with them

* One ankle has a bone fragment, a bone spur on the heel, and ligament damage

* The other angle has ligament damage - both require surgery to fix

* Ulcers and acid reflux

 * Tinnitus (constant ringing in both ears)

* Depression

You can now add kidney stone (which has stopped hurting, so I'm okay), and cysts on both of my ovaries that need a doctor to examine them to find out if they need to be removed and what sort they are. 

The next asshole that says anything about people not needing a universal healthcare can suck it. I've worked since I was 16. I've worked my ass off. The fact that I'm *still* waiting for medical is seriously some bullshit. My old job offered me unpaid leave. UNPAID. How the hell does some multi-million dollar company *not* have paid disability for people that need it for more than a few weeks? Don't they realize it can take up to TWO years for someone to file for SS disability? And that, if they're single, like me, with no kids, there's almost no programs out there to help you? I have no income, working isn't something I can do - hell, my hobbies are the things I can do from my bed half the time, and I don't know of any job that'll let you work from your bed and give you time off when the headaches get so bad you have to cover your face because light hurts so much. 

Basically, I'm sick of this. I'm sick of not being able to see a doctor, or to have a prescription for the medication I need to manage my pain. I need injections in my neck and lower back just so I can walk for more than an hour, or to be able to sit up and enjoy a meal without constantly wondering how long it'll be before I can lay down and cover my head because sitting up for a few hours gives me the headaches without fail. Sitting up for three hours results in that numbness and tingling in my hands. You try writing, drawing, or even reading when you have a headache that makes light feel like knives stabbing you in the face and brain. Then tell me how it feels when there's no doctor, no drugs, no relief for you. Until you've walked a day in my shoes, or in the shoes of someone that's dealing with chronic pain that doesn't have access to medical, shut your gob. 

I'd also like to eat a meal, just once, without getting sick after eating. Just once. For the last year, every time I eat anything, I am treated to the acid reflux or my stomach flipping me off. No matter how good the food is, it never tastes as good coming up. It makes you really picky about what you eat, because the food better be worth how it'll make you feel afterwards. I bet if I could see a doctor, I could have the stomach issues taken care of. Oh, right, no doctor for me... 

Fucker works 2 years in office and gets tax payer provided healthcare, for life. I work for most of my life and I get nothing but a 'good luck with that, here's another form you have to fill out, and I know your doctors in Chicago said this about your condition, but we need you to see some other doctor that'll do one test and your entire healthcare will be determined by someone that thinks all you need to do is lose a few pounds in order to feel better'. News flash... last weigh in says I've lost 50lbs. I don't feel a lick better.

This thing from Red Dwarf is stuck in my head:


To Ganymede and Titan
Yes sir, I've been around
But there ain't no place
In the whole of space
Like that good ol' toddlin' town...
Lunar City Seven
You're my idea of heaven
Out of ten you score eleven
You good ol' artificial terra-formed settlement...

Just wanted to share.

Hurt...

Desperately in need of drugs. I want to create, to write, to draw, to paint; to anything but be in pain, but all I can do is hurt.

I know, not my usual ramblings. I know I should be yammering on about a project or a thing I’m working on, but it’s just pain and hurt right now, so my creativity has been boiled down to ‘it hurts, make it stop’. The only thing I could write right now would be some horrible story where everyone dies and it’d be all depressing. No one needs to read that.

Okay. Going back to staring at nothing and wishing for it to stop hurting. Send drugs. Or just one of those doctors that can inject my spine with stuff so I can’t feel things or care about the hurting. I’d love that.

The more you know…

I’ve been thinking. Not constantly or anything, but random thoughts have been popping into my head lately. Take Katy Perry’s song I Kissed a Girl. I’d put good money on her doing more than just kissing a girl. It’s a fact* that 78%** of women that attend college ‘experiment’ with the same sex. Same with men, but the percentage is much lower, and none of them would ever admit it, especially in Texas.

For some reason, I was also remembering something I overheard one of my guy friends say. He may have been saying it to me, but it was such a stupid thing to say, I immediately dismissed it. He said he liked to pretend women didn’t fart or use the bathroom at all. To me, that just sounds ridiculous. But then, thinking about it, I know loads of women that never let the guy they’re with know about any of their bowl movements. I’m not saying you should go out and call your honey into the loo to show him the brick you just dropped, but letting them believe your bottom his some magical place that nothing vile comes out of is just a horrible idea. If things get serious, and you end up living together, sooner or later, you’re gonna get sick and foul up the bathroom. Granted, by then, he’ll be in love with you, so I guess that makes sense in some very stupid way that I just don’t understand.

* By fact, I mean opinion

** All invented statistics amount to 78%***

*** That statistic about statistics was made up

Rainy Days Don't Always Keep You Down

It was a day of errands, even though it was raining all freakin' day. Not sprinkling, but raining. Big, fat, stupid glops of it. But, happily, that didn't stop me from moving around. You see, today was the day I was FINALLY able to pick up drugs. Drugs that I need in order to move or do things, apparently. I forgot how it felt to have drugs that block the pain. I forgot how much I could do when properly medicated. (By 'much', I mostly just mean being able to walk around or sit up for more than an hour before I have to lie down for four or five days to make up for that one stupid hour of 'activity'.

*sigh* I love you pharmaceuticals.

I'm going to do a few more errands tomorrow, and then some color tests on Sunday after a visit to the art store. I can't seem to find any of the brushes I used to use for inking. Same with my quill crow pens. Totally gonzo, yo. I thought I had them in my one box for inking stuff but they weren't there. And my Windsor Newton series 7 brushes are gone too. I have no idea what other box I could've put them in. No matter. It's the art store for me on Sunday. I'll grab stuff then.

A Day In The Life

I woke up this morning with the pain in my neck so bad it felt like an ice pick was jabbed into the back of my skull. The idea of living with this kind of thing is a horrible prospect, especially since I have no relief and no way to see a doctor get the pain meds I need. No insurance means no meds, no doctor, no relief. Anyone that doesn't get why a universal health care system really needs to spend a week feeling as bad as I do without any meds to dull the sharp agony I am forced to endure. No one would argue after that. The idea of pain without reprieve would be enough to inspire them to find a solution. My saving grace, the thing that keeps me from opening a vein or going to sleep without ever waking up is the stack of printed out drawings I have to work on. The idea of putting color to Will's pencils, of having a book with our name on it, really is what keeps me going. I can't bail out, even if I want to cry every day because of the pain I'm in. Someone's got to color his work, right?

I'm going to go to a pen store with Anita today. Art seems to be my salvation right now, so I'm focusing on that. Maybe, in about two or three months, I'll be able to get help so I can have meds. Until then, it's a daily struggle to remember to breathe, to remember to hope. Drawing or painting seems to help me remember that, so I have to keep focusing on that.

I know this post is kind of depressing, but waking up in this much pain, and knowing that there is nothing I can do to make it more bearable, is a really hard pill to swallow. I'll try to cheer up next time.

Things and stuff

I haven't written in a while, but there's a lot to catch you up on. I moved to CA to live with my sister due to pain. The back and neck got so bad I couldn't even gimp to work. Very lame indeed.

Anyway, I'm here in CA now, and I think I'm actually started to be productive. I'm working on art with my friend Will Harris. He's amazingly talented and I'm really excited about the stuff we're working on. I've started dabbling in cell vinyl paint, which is fun, and I'm writing a story of my very own which will probably get turned into a graphic novel drawn by that Harris guy I mentioned.

For now on, this blog is gonna be mostly about the stuff I'm working on, with maybe some griping about my pain now and then. It's part of who I am, so I might as well own up to it and try not to let it be the boss of me. Now, back to the writing for a bit. Then I'm gonna have to drag my bottom into the living room to work on some of that art stuff I keep talking about.