Trip.

I will be back in Wisconsin from September 3rd to the 10th, hopefully working on some new tablet drawings for comics. I don't think I'll be posting, since my parents are the only people in the global north that still use dial-up. Also, my cell phone only works in one corner of the house and only for receiving texts.

It will be blissful.

While I'm gone, y'all should go the First Friday trolley hop and check out the show at NuLu. I have a piece in it (guess which one! it won't be hard.) and it's curated by my pals Hallie and Aron. Also, go to the Clay Buffet because they are awesome and will have DJs. I will be drinking Spotted Cow with Jenny at Genna's, wearing a hoodie and making fun of baby college students.

Blah blah blah new zine blah blah.

That's right, Milkyboots #5: Summer 2008 Diary is out now. You can order it on my etsy site: Sirop Du Ingenue Shop. It's also for sale at Cherry Bomb or you can buy it from me directly (or trade me for a drink or artwork).

I haven't had time to do another blog comic, so I hope y'all will accept a list as a substitute. I made it in an attempt to de-stress.

Things I don't need to think about for the next week:

-the logistics of moving a cat, a bike, a sewing machine and myself to Portland
-exactly how gay I am
-girls
-boys
-artwork for the split with JWoolard
-artwork for the $10 art show
-whether or not I can actually afford a work off week
-whether or not I'm gaining weight
-being re-addicted to caffeine
-whether or not I'm fucking with anyone's heads
-buying groceries
-money
-rent, phone bill, LG&E
-all the other stupid inane stuff I worry about

True story!

This really happened, and I have no idea who did it. It wasn't Megan O. or my temporary roommates.

No, really. Don't.

The thing in my right hand is supposed to be a pear. Seriously, don't ride your bike like this. I'm cruising for a bruising, and not just of my fruity snack.

I am not feeling settled enough to write anything substantial, but I should mention that I have had a lot of stuff going on the last week and a half and have a lot more going on this weekend. Mostly good things, but still, my head may explode.

10 for 21

-Interstellar 5555 (The pilot's hair is amazing! I wish mine looked that awesome.)
-Allan Hough and serendipitous SF connections
-homemade oven fries
-temporary roommates/big slumber parties at my house
-Ray's serving beer
-my new, half-assed tattoo
-Derek's bug collection
-vegan mocha
-red wine with ice cubes (yeah, i'm trashy)
-Cursive "Staying Alive"

L.B.F.

No, don't worry, I didn't almost get hit. Have a good weekend.

For Will.

Don't worry, y'all, I'll probably post a comic later today. Just need to get this off my chest...

I thought that by the time most of my friends were in their mid-20s, early 30s, we would be over this. That I wouldn't have to deal with it.
But why should I have? It's still something I struggle with myself. No one else is any different, no matter how 'together' they seem to have things. We can put on our masks and I can laugh and joke over drinks about how shitty this year has been. And I may have forgotten all those months of putting matches out on my arms, putting razors to my wrists.
But it's still there. With adulthood, it morphs into other things. I still can't sleep without alcohol, can't breathe without cigarettes. Small deaths that leave no marks. I can't look at this face in the mirror every morning and think, this is a life worth living. I can't see what others see, no matter how many times I am told I am loved and amazing.
But that's the same thing they all did. I count myself lucky that only one of them succeeded.
So there is no room in my life for these thoughts anymore. If I can't keep living for myself, I will do it for the people I love and who love me.
Because I don't have time anymore for anyone who doesn't love me, including myself.

Yet another comic.

Apparently God or whoever decided I needed to grow up this year. So ... uh, thank you, but I'm good now. I'll just make due with the crippling depression for the rest of 2008.

All my love, Kirby.

Sorry, Marianne and Rachel!

My memory sucks. I am going to have JWoolard or someone look over everything before I put it out from now on.

I don't know what more proof I need that I should drink less.

Uh, see you at Cahoots tonight?

Brontok is a venereal disease.

Look, I dragged my tablet to work just to draw a new picture for you guys!



Two things:

1. For those of you that read MB #4, I have a confession. Rachel did not tell the story about the shopvac. She didn't even know what a shopvac is. So I either a) heard it from someone else and my alcohol-addled brain got Rachel confused with someone else or b) completely made it up, or hallucinated hearing it. In either case, my mind, particularly my subconscious, needs a round of psychiatric testing and possibly rehab as well.
Damn. I could've sworn it was Rachel.

2. Any of you lurkers have suggestions for new music for me to listen to? All I've been listening to is a mix labeled "This is 1995-2002" made up of things I listened to during those years. And Destiny's Child (Don't ask).

All Apologies.

Is there anyone else I can piss off, disappoint or make things really awkward with this week? No? Okay, I'll just go crawl back into my hole then.



10 for 5

-Amy taking me to Whole Foods, squeezing through tiny spaces and driving through St. Matthews which some how got us stoned.
-B Vitamins
-Clay Buffet parties
-Brendan, for fixing my broken bike ride
-halflink! I no longer have a loose chain
-tofu stirfry breakfast at North End
-watching MST3K while drawing (Yes, I'm a nerd. I don't give a shit what you think of me)
-how hilarious it is that everyone takes myspace so seriously
-rediscovering coffee heart attacks
-my trip to Wisconsin in Sept. (BBQ Seitan! New Glarus beer!)
+1 dancing to 'Mushaboom' with Kayti

Also, Andrew (the Louisville one), we really are going to be friends or I'm gonna kick your box-toting, recovering-WoW-addict ass.