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So haters of Comic Sans, STFU and quit hating on a perfectly good font because some assholes don’t understand how to use typefaces. You wouldn’t rage on someone for using Arial for a goverment Doc, just like you wouldn’t rage on someone for using Times Roman for a personal letter? So don’t rage on Comic Sans!

It’s nice, it’s friendly, it’s cuddly – like a puppy. Yes puppies aren’t appropriate for every situation, but you don’t hate on them for just being puppies do you?

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This is what I came up with:

However, in the process of playing with the brushes I made this:

and then this:

and these too, before I thought I should stop for the night and go eat >.<

As first attempts I’m pretty happy with how they turned out. I’m sure someone will look and tell me they’re rubbish but as long as they tell me why and how to improve I’m happy. BTW, if you click them, it’ll take you to the full size versions. I hope y’all like them as much as me

 Brushes by various artists on deviantart. Fonts from 1001FreeFonts

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This one, at first glance seems pretty straight forward, but probably reveals more than I would like about my psycoses.

It started off fairly normal, from a 1st POV. I was in the press box at telford, on my own, in the wee hours, waiting for some photos to upload and I drifted off to sleep. Next thing I see is myself from 3rd POV, sprawled on the table, fast asleep, with potz, ternix and fallen standing around looking worried. Potz gives me a prod and says, ‘dru, honey, you have to wake up now.’ I grunt and flop an arm over my head. He pokes me again, ‘dru, really. You have an interview in 15 mins’ I mumble somthing along the lines of ‘no I don’t go away.’ And turn my head away. Potz looks at Ternix besechingly, and Nix sighs.
‘Sorry Angel,’ He says ‘No one tell dark about this okay?’ He leans over and kisses me on the cheek.
‘dru,’ he says in a sing-song voice. ‘you have to wake up now love,’ he caries on kissing my cheek and jaw telling me I have to wake up and finally kisses me on the lips. Obviously still mostly asleep I respond and kiss him back then realise wtf is going on and wake up fully.
‘Ternix!’ I yell at him. ‘what the hell dude?’ He just give a little shrug while potz hands me a mug telling me to drink, and reminding me I’ve only got 10mins till this interview. The coffee tates like swill and I tell them so, and demand to know what interview they’re talking about, because I know I’m not interviewing anyone. They all look really worried now and ask what I remember about the previous night. I say, not much – some drinking, some bullshitting, some phototaking and then trying to upload them. Ternix hands me a bag and says it’s got my make up in it, to go get ready. Potz tells me I agreed to be interviewed by shed and narella for an iLive. I panic, run to the bathrooms with Fallen and smarten myself up. We get back and find shed, phat and whiteknight waiting. Phat leads us outside and shed asks if I’m ready. I tell him ‘fuck, no’ and that I’m still not sure what’s going on. He grins in his cheeky ‘we’ve got something planned’ way.

Once outside and set up shed tells the cameras to roll and he starts asking me about the station, my part in it, wether I’m the sole owner. I answer as honestly as I can, say it’s a community thing so I’m more like a partner. He askes how I’d feel if MPUK were to give me a large amount of money for the station. I can see wizzo out the corner of my eye and have a feeling they’re about to tape me to something. I ask what he means by that, and he says MPUK have decided they like the station and they want to give me a cheque for it. I think they want to buy it from me. I freeze up, panic then get angry. I tell them the stattion is not for sale. Shed says ‘you siad you were just a partner’ I get angryer and tell him I’m the majority share-holder, and the manager, the station is not for sale, it’s my baby and there’s not enough money in the world that could take it a way from me. Everyone looks really confused. This is clearly not how they were expecting this to go, which makes me even angryer. Shed tries to explain again, but I tell him much as I like MPUK and the ppl and how amazing they all are the, G3 is my station, my baby, and they can go fuck themselves if they think they can buy me out. I walk off in a huff, tears starting to well up when suddenly wizzo is in front of me. He says, ‘you really love G3 don’t you?” I say ‘what do you expect? I’m the only one of the original three, I stuck with it and din’t leave. How would you feel if someone tried to take MPUK away from you?’ He suddenly laughs and hugs me.
‘silly girl, I don’t want to take it away from you. I want to give you money; I want to invest in the station! But it’s good to know you care so much.’ I feel really stupid and then I wake up.

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Most of my effort since last week’s post has been focused on going out and radio stuff. Last Saturday Andy and I had a lazy day and in the evening went to see the Sullivan’s and their latest edition, Elana. On the Sunday we went for a trip out to Swanage, via the chain ferry, to get some chocolate from Chcoco (amazing praline btw) and to show Andy ‘my’ grave – or rather the grave of Laura Turner Hurrell, who was born August 6th 1883, and died May 8th 1906. Sadly the area of the Methodist church it was in was closed, and we didn’t feel like gate-crashing a brownie party just to see it. After that we were hungry so got some chips and doughnuts for late lunch and headed back via the landward way.

Over the week I’ve been focusing on different marketing ploys to get more people to the radio, which I think has been working, and reading up on business stuff.

Then on Friday, Andy and I took Luke with us over to Kat’s place for her birthday BBQ, which was great. Lots of noms, and left over noms, lots of chatting and brilliant punch made by Kat and Vicks. I also got to meet Elizabeth, Charlie’s new daughter. She’s a big girl already, and so cute

So that’s my week. Hopefully the sun’ll come back out for me to clean the windows and I’ll finally get around to making myself some fresh bread

Till next post xx

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I’ve gone through the bathroom, the kitchen, the hall and the lounge so far making sure I’ve cleaned under and inside things that don’t usually get done, like behind the bathroom sink, and inside the oven. I’ve also been finding homes for things that have gotten pushed to one side and forgotten about. I also managed to hoover under the bed, an effort that took me 2 hours of shoving, pulling and coercing the bed to shift enough that I could get the hoover down the side and around the back.

Over the last weekend I convinced Andy to take me and the car into town loaded up with stuff to go to charity. He said he didn’t seem much point in us trying to sell any of it. So we rocked up to the British Red Cross on Saturday with 5 big bags of donations. They seemed somewhat bemused by the amount, but nevertheless happy to take it off our hands.

There’s still plenty to do though. Namely the spare room >.< Even though we got rid of most of the charity stuff, there’s still a few bits that need to go to Dorset Reclaim, as well as the 2 boxes of electrical bits that need to go to the dump. Oh, and there’s the 3 boxes of things that still need homes…
I also want to go through our cupboards, wardrobes and storage to see if there is anything else we can get rid of, or at least re-organize things so that they’re more accessible/ obvious.

I’ve still got some fairly major cleaning/ fixing to finish as well, such as getting the boiler serviced, cleaning the windows, re-cleaning the bathroom tiles with mould killer, de-scaling the shower head and fixing the extractor fan.

If you add all the standard, daily, housework to this, you can see I’ve still got my work cut out for me! Weirdly I’m looking forward to it. I think it’s just being able to get it all done, without having to worry about leaving something unfinished because I don’t have time.

Then I have plans on doing loads of baking, and ready-meal-making, and station stuff….

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I guess that’s what happens when you’re actually busy – living starts and recording stops.

But now I have (mostly) all the time in the world. Why? Because I got made redundant from my post at Millets. The new owners of the business decided for whatever reason that our store needed to be closed.

It’s been about a week since the store officially closed, but for some reason it feels longer. Maybe it’s because the days are longer, maybe it’s because of the odd sleep pattern I have right now (day 1, 6am-10pm; day 2, 10am-11pm). But I quite like it. Maybe part of it is because it doesn’t feel like a lost job, and more like a holiday.

I’ve gotten so much done around the house. Mostly cleaning, but looking at the state some of it’s in, it’s a good thing I have all this time!

For those of you worried about the money side of things, you don’t have to. My redundancy packet means that I have about 2 months worth of pay, and I’ve also applied for Jobseekers. And if that wasn’t enough to dispel the worry, I have income protection insurance, and Andy’s pay will cover everything anyway.

So once the house is clean from top-to-bottom and inside out, I plan on taking the pile of ‘to get rid of’ stuff to charity/ car boot sale/ dump, and finish the spare room tidy. And then, who knows? Maybe more G3 work, maybe I’ll get another job. Only time will tell.

But I’m pretty excited about it all right now

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I sat on the hill, looking out over the sparkling estuary. The grass was warm under me and the sun blazed down, making me sleepy. Suddenly there was the whine of machinery from what at this distance seemed to be a simple bridge. But I knew differently – the tide was turning, powering the massive wave powered generator that stretched across the estuary’s mouth.

I looked down at my palm and the rune tattooed there. It seemed strange that in the future of magics and miracles we still relied so heavily on electricity. Of course, it had only been a few years since the oil ran out, and the new generation were born, like me, with these abilities. I pushed a little of my will into my palm and watched as the pastel motes of power sparked into being.

“Mika!”

I closed my hand, cutting off my will and stood to greet the girl running at me, waving her arms. She was young, and dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, her brown hair bobbing as she ran, fast approaching me. She called my name again, stumbled, lost a sandal and hopped back to get it before sprinting the rest of the way and coming to a breathless halt in front of me. I crossed my arms and grinned at her.

“Yes Ameil?” I asked, even though I could guess her reason for being here. The tide had gone out.

“Mamma sent me. She says” Ameilia puffed up her chest and put on a voice, “tell that sister of yours to stop her dawdling and bring home those groceries, else supper’ll be late.” I giggled, and Ameilia grinned.

“Hai, meimei,” I said and picked up the basket next to me. I was quiet as we walked, but Ameil chatted enough for the both of us, as we walked back through the cobbled walkways of our neighbourhood.

“You’re late Mika,” our mother said as we walked into the kitchen.

“Yes Mama, I’m sorry,” I said and placed the basket on the table. Mother Gave me an apprising look.

“Honey,” she said after a moment, “I know you’re still getting use to your abilities, but mooning around about it won’t help.”

“Yes Mama,” I said dutifully.

“Now, come help me with dinner.” I nodded, and started forwards as a Low boom sounded and shook the house. I gripped the counter and watched as a salt cellar tilted and fell, spilling salt all over. The shaking subsided and we looked at each other. Drumming sounded on the stairs and Ameil popped her head over the banister. She saw us and ran over, clutching at Mother. Her eyes where wide with fright.

“What was that Mama?” I asked. Mother shook her head and hugged Ameil.

“I don’t know sweety,” she said looking at me. I saw the shock on her own face as another boom sounded, accompanied by another rumble. Ameil shivered and buried her face in Mother’s skirt, and I reached for her too. The three of us stood, clutching each other as the house shook and settled. We exchanged looks again, as Mother took our hands and lead us outside.

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But, instead of bitching about it, I’m going ‘man the fuck up’ (as Wizzo so aptly puts it), accept there is something lacking with me and get on and do something about it. I want to be a better person – someone who gets on and fixes what broke instead of wingeing about; someone who expects results and kicks ass when they don’t happen; someone who does what’s needed of them with minimun fuss and a quick turn around; someone who doesn’t just sit around waiting for life to happen; somone who others can look up to.

I don’t know yet how I’m going to make it happen, but I have confidence in myself that I will. That’s half the battle right there. As a little green muppet once said, ‘do or do not, there is no try.’ So I’m going to do, and see where it takes me.

Don’t wish me luck, I’m gonna be making my own

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