Monday, Apr. 18, 2005 - 2:56 a.m.
Cost of the War in Iraq
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Pudgy shows in Photos and Waist
Oh how do I get so tired?? how how how??
I was having a discussion with one of my hosts (band member, writer, zine reviewer, compiler, community activist, mc etc) in San Fran... about how one of the cartoonists I admire, Keith Knight, plugs his comics constantly. He used to even more... he has used a paper mache huge head of his cartoon character that he wears around. He has walked around with a sandwich board. He has put up posters and other displays around him when he is on a panel discussion. He does book tours, and is in a band which I am sure helps. It is unlikely he hides his cartooning side when he is in the band.
BTW his band, The Marginal Prophets, is great. They won hiphop album of the yea last year in California. Totally great, esp since they are independents and not signed by any label as far as I know.
So, back to the discussion.
I said that I'd have a hard time doing that, and trying to tell everyone my comic is the greatest, cuz my fear is that millions of people would go and check it out and be disappointed that it wasn't up to the hype.
And my host said "I don't think Keith has those fears".
You know. Being a neurotic, self-deprecating, insecure artist is not so helpful. Really not. I mean, people are going to like my stuff or not. And the more I get it out there, the more that there will be people who do like it.
But I have been thinking of that discussion a lot. Being afraid of not living up to expectations is really an achilles heel it is. Really really.
And may I mention that looking at photos of oneself is not helpful.
Dang. Are my upper arms really that wide and floppy? Is my belly really that pudgyouty? I guess so. And I really am only reasonably attractive from the front view. My side view is not such a winner I daresay. And I am right... I DO look like an egghead with my hair shaved. Oh well. I guess if I smile alot and don't think about it, it will help.
I put on weight in San Fran. There are reasons why Americans are fatter than Quebecois you know. First of all, is the cars. Though there are fewer cars in SF, I got rides home THREE nights out of 7 this time... whereas other SF trips, I have walked and walked and walked til my legs fell off. Up and down hills. Hoping a bus would come along. Up and down MORE hills. I got rides home, AND I was so busy I had no time for walking to get someplace... I took TOOOO many taxis. Hell on the waistline AND the budget.
Second, the food. What the HELL is WITH the serving sizes? I had a burrito Monday night. I ate HALF of it. Not most of it. HALF of it. And saved the other half and ate it before I went to bed. And Wed for brunch I had this peanutsauce tofu crepe. I ate BARELY half of it. And saved the rest and had it before I went to bed.
That means I had the equivalent of supper at bedtime. TWO SUPPER PORTIONS! And they seem to expect that these servings are ONE portion for ONE meal. Crazy.
So yeah, pudgola... I can tell cuz I can only breathe in my 36" waist jeans. That is not so good. So I did go to the gym tonight. good girl.
... hmmmm the gorgeous local girl just sent me an email.. got sidetracked there for a bit. Her ex is having fits and conniptions that she's seeing other people after their breakup and called her a slut for having a hickey. I dunno about you, but seems you are allowed to get hickeys once you are broken up. And despite it probably being from a hot sex date after I left town, she only mentioned me... or rather assented it COULD be me, when her ex asked. Dang. Now I've stopped stressing about ob and her mme and roommates when I am in SF and now I have to start looking over my shoulder for gorgeous local gal's ex with a knife! yeeps!!
If I'd known, I WOULD have given a hickey or two. The needles I stuck in her arm, and her abused right nipple (yeah yeah, dear, your paletastyness of a nipple) aren't really evident enough to warrant my head lopped off. Dang.
Just so you knows, people... if you are recently broken up, DO get a livejournal or diaryland site and vent vent vent. DON'T scream and cry and shout at your ex for seeing other people after the breakup, DON'T call their place over and over and over and over and over. And DON'T leave idiotic nasty comments on THEIR livejournal or diaryland entries. Venting is good, idiocy is bad. Diaries are a good thing.
Basically, if it is your friends, or if you pay for the bandwidth yourself, vent away. If it is your ex, or they pay for the bandwidth, try to restrain the venting. Exceptions: They are a miserable shit who fucked you over IN the relationship... then you may scream at them in person a bit. Be forewarned it will probably make them smug and you look hysterical and they'll point that out to all THEIR friends. Dang eh.
OK. Well, yes, pudgyness... shows up in the jeans waistbands and the photos.
I did get like 700,000 photos back today, so now I have blown my new restrained yearly photo budget in one go, but I should start getting pics back on this site again. If I can overcome inertia to bend over and scan some. I still have three rolls to come, and so will wait til I get them all back before I do a blow by blow review of my whole trip.
You know, it is nice to be back. Nice to go away and have things put back into perspective. Nice to get back and into my routine again, the coffeeshop, the doggywalkies etc.
Now if I'd only stop being so tired.
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previous meanderings - future past
Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
*inspired by Chaosdaily