i was hoping to wait until i had my subscription back before i started writing journals again, but the world seems to be out to specifically forbid me from getting anything that i want, therefore, here is a journal. although, i did just get told that i have "natural talent" as a storyteller, so... i suppose i can't be ALL angry.

first things first. I CAN'T FRIGGIN SEE!!! ... that's what the title means. i can't see. or, it's not visible. japanese is freakish, but i love it. ichigai ni, as a rule, whenever i need new glasses, it's not that things go fuzzy, or that i start seeing double or that i get headaches or anything even remotely able to be dealt with. what happens, is i get a sort of vertigo whereby things look farther away than they actually are, and i get this strange disconnect between the way things look and how heavy they feel. :shudder: makes me dizzy just thinking about it. anyhow, the other week, i went to the eye doctor. when i tried to describe to her what happens to me, she was like... O.o ...so not exactly something to inspire confidence, but i went ahead and got new glasses anyway, turns out my prescription had changed just a little. so. that brings us to the day i picked them up. the frames i had picked out... well, they're okay i guess, but when i went to pick em up, i found these other frames, and they are PERFECT and now i can't get em out of my head. they feel so... i don't know... i put em on, and i was like, "le sigh~" they just felt perfect. like they were built just for my head. ... okay, i'm waxing poetic about some frames... moving on to yesterday and today, i can no longer really look at the tv because things look MUCH further away than they should. i was TRYING to watch the last vol of RahXephon last night, and i kept getting interrupted by my own friggin eyeball's apparent inability to focus on the tv for a period longer than like five seconds.... -_-# and of course making books for my new etsy shop is impossible, since every time i look down for more than a few seconds, whatever i'm looking at goes WHOOSH sinking away from me. IT MAKES ME VERY ANGSTY. i'm quite angsty enough w/out any help from my eyeballs, thank you very much.

let's see, what else... oh YES. SPEAKING of ANGST. my FATHER... okay, alternating caps is obnoxious... my father and brother came home for the holiday, and boom, we find out they're actually staying for the whole week instead of just the holiday. wonderful, right? well... turns out dad had some arguement w/ the powers that be up there in chicago, them faulting dad because somebody else didn't feel like owning up to their own faults, and they were basically like, don't bother coming in, to which he apparently said, fine, whatever, f you. so this week, he's looking for a new job, one in columbus. ... ... ... yeah, that's right, four or five YEARS later, the bluff is called. chicago? bad idea. moving? horrible idea. two houses? i don't f-ing think so. father, in his ineffable, shall we say leave-it-to-beaver, way, called a little "family meeting" during which his main concern seemed to be financial. he kept saying, "it's gonna be a significant pay cut," i suppose taking it as read that everyone would be overjoyed to be what i'm CERTAIN he considers, "one big dysfunctional family."  just in case you can't taste the sarcasm, please allow me to state: i started the search for an apartment THAT VERY EVENING. of course, whether that actually materializes in enough time that i don't actually have to spend too much time w/ my father telling me about this amazing new concept, "going to bed earlier" and my brother camping right outside my bedroom door remains to be seen. don't get me wrong, love my brother dearly. however, i also love singing uber loud at odd times of the night, and reading my stories aloud to myself, and practicing my guitar, and i love doing all of these things downstairs, in my basement room, at times such as three am. even his staying for a week has upped my angst quotient more than it really should. i don't wanna think if it's a matter of months before we get an apartment. plus, he's been uber quiet this week, which is basically michael code for: WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO DAMMIT!? he works w/ dad, full time, nice~ paycheck, but not enough to support himself by himself w/ chicago rents, so he's pretty much going to have to quit a very nice paycheck and find something down here in columbus, where he's never had much luck w/ jobs in the first place. so... yeah... it could be exciting. just what i needed. fucked up eyeballs AND living space turbulence. chaos, for the win.

in lighter news: probably many of you do not actually remember my saying that i was going to get a book together from my march madness short stories and sell it on lulu.com? well, i've put up a couple of my stories on www.critiquecircle.com --which is actually a nice place, it's just a bit of a drag having to read stories that are in need of a copyeditor-- and someone over there told me i had a natural talent for storytelling. see? god really hates me, but the universe in general is trying to make me feel better. or maybe it's the other way around. whatever. somebody up there hates my financial guts, but somebody ELSE up there really likes my stories. i suppose this is a situation i can live with. or at least, if i could see, i'd be able to live w/ it.

speaking of stories, the DMZ gift shop. yes, there is apparently a gift shop in the demilitarized zone. i need to write a story about that. w/ somebody named V E Harsh. that? is a great name.

a? i like the way this entry is an entire teenage angst novel. blech.
b? i like the way i talk about michael as if he will not be reading this entry. he will be, trust me.
c? have i mentioned? I CAN'T FUCKING SEE PROPERLY!

oh yeah, and a few other projects i'd like to tell you about:
- my new etsy shop, notuboc: [link] where i sell handmade blank books,
- my translation of YOU's journal [a guitarist for j-rock artist Gackt]: [link]
- my lulu.com page: [link] there's only my nanowrimo book up there at the moment, and while that is a rolicking good time, it's not exactly my best writing. hold on for my short story collection though, that is some of my best.