derp

Impulse Cat seems like more and more of a rescue cat as the days go by. The other day a friend pointed out that her ears were dirty. After cleaning them some it turns out its a case of ear mites like I've never seen before. Microscopic parasitic contagious little creatures.. I hope my older cats aren't affected. I found a flea too. To top it all off, before I adopted her she'd had her tail shut in a door, so I've been paying attention as the tip slowly died away. It fell off in my hand tonight. Although it was expected sooner or later, it still gives me the heebie jeebies. She now has a slightly shorter, stubbier tail (which is actually quite adorable, if you can put aside the fact that an appendage just fell off). We're all taking a big ol' family vacation to our local vet next week. She doesn't seem bothered by her loss in the slightest. If anything, the wound will heal better now. She seemed more concerned that I got her feet wet while I was holding the tail underwater to flush the wound. Silly Impulse Cat.

Anyway, I stayed up 'til quarter past ridiculous o'clock last night. I should sleep now.

On a side note: Avengers - explosions and attractive super heros. OKAY!!!

I think the importance of taking a day here and there to do absolutely nothing is lost on me sometimes. I get caught up the guilt of being stagnant, or even full blown counter-productive, and I don't let myself enjoy the simple bliss of curling back up in the warm spot that still lingers under the blankets from the night. There is too much to do.

That being said - I enjoyed a 2 hour nap today, from 1:30 until 3:30pm. A perfect siesta. It was pure heaven. I fell naturally into a dose, without the countdown of "if I fall asleep riiiiight now, I'll still manage to get enough sleep before morning" as I normally count each night to find sleep. This afternoons nap drifted into a worryless dream, which I naturally awakened from without the painful throb of an alarm in my ear to jolt me back into the waking world. You see, I had plans, and the plans, through no fault of my own, became postponed for about 5 hours. I had already planned on having no tangible outcome from those hours,  and so, I let it stay that way.

This is something I should train myself to do every week. at least. this is a productive thing, to have relaxation. This should be a mantra. I should write it above my bed:

"TAKE NAPS. YOU LIKE THEM."

I think I've mentioned that I love my job. I want that out there before anything else can be questioned. I complain about aspects of it a lot though. That's one thing I know I need to work on. Also, money talk. I need to work on that too.

Next week we have a meeting, mainly to discuss the progress of our apprentice at her 6 month mark with our salon. I hope that other things will come up too. I'm not generally someone who will back away from conflict, but I don't enjoy it either. There are things that I have mentioned that have been disregarded, or taken lightly, and recently I've realized that neither of them point anything out to me at all. for example, directed towards my fellow stylists I will say things like: "You need to show more initiative in assisting" or "you need to work on not making the windowsill look like your personal work shelf".. but nothing like that comes back my way..

This worries me. There is no possible way I don't do anything that needs improvement.

I have been doing hair for 6 years now, professionally. In 6 years, most stylists develop bad habits without realizing it. Things they can't see themselves doing, because they've been doing it for so long that they don't even notice anymore. This happens in every field. The thing is, I don't know what those habits are to fix them. I don't see them. I want someone to point out my shady areas. I want to be the best I can be. I can't if no one tells me where I'm lacking.

Am I a nag to the point where they don't even want to talk to me about improvement?
Are the issues that I'm bringing up to them so trivial that their issues with me seem too catastrophic to even discuss?
Are they just doing their complaining when I'm not present to hear it?  

Questions, questions. We'll see when it comes I suppose.

Yesterday, a friend asked to borrow my cat carrier. She's not normally a cat person. I am, but more on that later.

I have an enormous amount of respect for this friend lately. She's in the middle of a complete life overhaul. She decided last year that she didn't like her life, so she wasn't going to continue  living it the way she had been, simple as that. She got a trainer and dropped over 50 pounds. She quit getting angry while she drinks. She reconciled with old friends. She got a new place and spiffed it up like she wanted it. She has plans to skydive this weekend, and now, in her new life, she has a cat. A companion in this life that she is living with freedom from her own negative boundaries.  

I'm proud of her. I hope she knows. 

Anyway, yes, I'm a cat person. I couldn't resist the thought of meeting the new little guy, so I invited myself along for the ride to go get him. I was under the impression that he was the last of the litter who hadn't been spoken for. Apparently, that wasn't the case. When we arrived, the fellow brought out the one that my friend had chosen, and while we stood, swooning over the adorableness of this little cat, at least 3 others bounded around, Including a little ball of white fluff that was just too cute not to cuddle. 

After a short amount of time and a ridiculous amount of giggling over my crazy-cat-lady tendencies, my friend took the fluffball from my arms and put her in the carrier beside her new little fluffball. I was going home with a cat. No choice in the matter according to everyone else present.

I have two other cats. Bella, my 11 year old Himalayan; Pancakes, My 4 year old black-and-white perpetual kitten; and now I have Nimbus, my pure white babykitty with a broken tail. Bella doesn't seem to care either way. She's been sick lately. She's on the mend, but doesn't quite trust me yet to not pick her up and force pills down her throat and bath her, so she's hiding. Pancakes, on the other hand, is slinking around with a territorial guttural noise coming from her, but the noise is nowhere near as hostile as it is when another adult cat comes into her space. We're in trial for a couple weeks. If they don't get used to each other enough to be alright long-term I'll have to bring her back. 

Is it nuts to have 3 cats in the first place? It kind of is.

on a side note, which really isn't a side note, its kind of the main emotional issue here, another friend had asked if I'd take her full grown cat in the middle of Bella being sick and has found a home for her last week. now she's mad at me that I didn't take her cat as she gives her up to a family she doesn't know.  I feel a little sick over the situation.

I think I might be failing at the internet.. did it work?

As I stroll through the virtual shops of fellow artisans on Etsy, I've started to take notice of their stats. Thousands of admirers, and even more sales, in as little as a year of being online. I probably shouldn't pay attention. it's really none of my business and I'm truly happy that there are still artists out there making something close to a living by good ol' fashioned hard work and creativity, but at the same time, I'm left to wonder, what are they doing that I'm not? I already have a facebook page devoted to my work, a tumblr , an online gallery that's written on my business cards, and of course my own etsy shop .. So my question, dear Tblog.. what else can I do?

Do you think they're paying heaps of money in advertising? Is it just word of mouth about these particular shops? Have they been lucky enough to be featured in something with a lot of publicity? The pieces themselves aren't better or worse than mine.. are they?

Don't get me wrong. I love my day job. Hairstyling affords me time with familiar faces, and new people every day. It's a means of instant creative satisfaction. It's tactile, it's always new, and bottom line - It's fun.. I like hairstyling. But what artist out there doesn't dream of at least cutting down on day-job hours to toil away on that giant canvas, That new sculpture, Those fancy new beads that came in the mail the other day.. and to do it all at whatever time the mood strikes. 

The reality of the matter is, I'm broke. I'd love to make more money, but I already have no time for a second regular job, because even though my etsy shop isn't booming, and the salon doesn't sell tons of my work everyday, it still keeps me busy enough that I just plain don't have time for more work.. Unless of course I'd be willing to give something up. What would that be? No more Jewelry? No more painting? Less time with the people I love? Forget it. Not happening. I'll be broke. 

So I had pneumonia in January.. that's a long time ago, right? Not so much apparently. I haven't fully been able to catch my breath the way I'm used to since then. The man took me to the hospital at 5 this morning, where the entire waiting room at the ER was empty and the staff treated me very well. They didn't even waste time getting a bracelet on me. Probably helped that I cried at the triage nurse because I was so panicky about not being able to breath. 

In the end, they sent me home with asthma medication. My dad had asthma.. still does, I guess, but it doesn't flare up like it used to. Is that a family thing?

Meanwhile, the Kitchen Hole will have to wait for a while before I work on it again. Flying drywall dust is probably not so good for me at the moment. 

there is a feeling of situational depression passing through my abode lately. Maybe its partly chemical. I know with the other half it is, and with me it's not being helped by the new birth control my doctor has me on (sorry for the tmi). I'm finding it incredibly frustrating. I like to be busy. I like the feeling of accomplishment when I've achieved a product at the end of the day. for example, that painting the other day.. or the pass-through I've been working on in the kitchen.

I feel like I can't get anything done lately, because I have to sit with he who sits, for fear of offending him with my "industrious" ways, as he calls them. I feel like having me around, the busy body I am, gives a comparison to himself and his stagnant productivity, sending him further into his emotional valley.  If I sit, I slide into it too.

They say misery loves company.

A while ago I was commissioned to do a piece for a client's bathroom.. Seems like all my art is going in people's bathrooms really, but that's another point.

Anyway, it was in February that she asked for it, and I just finally finished it last night through the magic of procrastination and self doubt. I had also been commissioned for a Mural, which I did a few sketches for, and measurements and even a meeting with the owner of the company, before I backed out of that one, like the coward I am. I'm glad I did, but at the same time I'm hugely disappointed in myself.

Back to the bathroom painting - I took a picture so I could email it to her. I did that, and I also posted it on Pinterest, where it received 4 repins and a like before morning. That's multitudes of attention that most of my jewelry does not get when I post it. Basic principles of supply/demand would dictate that I'd paint more, right? not really.. why don't I?

Riddle me this, dear tblog.. why don't I paint more?

 I'm desperately trying to figure out how to get rid of the vast majority of this blog's posts without having to go through and delete every individual scribbling of teenaged angst, one by one. I could just leave it I guess. It's not like it's new or anything. I could use it for yet another venue of net-spam.

 Well, what have I been up to?

 I'm all grown up now, I suppose. I'm 25, I live in a cute place above a bar and pay my bills with my college education and try to make a name with my handmade jewelry and artwork. no point, it's not going anywhere, but no harm trying. I can't sleep, so I've done some more work on the current renovation I've taken on..

and now I've landed back on tblog. Hope all is well with you, dear internet.

turrah

edit - continued with the one by one deletion of high school drudgery and thinking I was the most important person in the world. Sorry, internet, for inflicting that upon you 10 years ago.