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So . . . I haven't written one of these in a while. Well, I did on Christmas, but that was more of a video-based journal entry. Here's an honest-to-goodness journal entry from yours truly!
So you might have been wondering about my long period of dwindling journal entries on serious stuff since about July when I got hired for a job at a packaging company. As much as I enjoyed my time there learning the trade, expanding my skills and getting some fine dough, the higher ups thought that I wasn't the right fit for the job after a period of over two months. They were a bit vague on why they let me go, but they said I was making too many mistakes . . . in the three month trial period where it was cut short. When reading the fine print, I noticed they can terminate my job anytime during the three month trial. However, I didn't argue or make a fuss about the whole thing and just took it stoicly. I took my stuff and left, wishing that I wasn't a total screw-up.
After that, I had to return to the mind-numbing grind of sending off resumes and portfolios to anyone looking for a new hire on Indeed.ca or wherever. My parents were a little shocked about the news, but they were understanding and didn't flip out about it. They knew for a long time how it was so hard for me to get a job within my field. However, they did pressure me to sendingout resumes every day . . . even though there might not be a new job posting on one of those days. At least with the other time I had, I was able to write a bit and work on other stuff at my leisure.
However, serendipity had other plans for me. This happened late November of last year, while I was wittling away at one of my book's chapters. One of my contacts who I did some artwork for told me that there was a friend of his who was looking for a new graphic designer. Turns out his graphic designer, who was also a huge beeyotch, rage quit her job because of pressing family matters. In an instant, I swooped in and send my resume and portfolio to him and now I'm once again employed! What's more, that same contact said he might look me up if he needed a graphic designer for his print shop in the worst case scenario. It's times like this that I'm thankful for good clients.
After a month working there, I'm getting a decent grasp at the job, but I feel I have a long way to go before being fully capable. Still, I have to press onward. I don't want to let the people who've put so much on me down.

Where have you been all my life?!
Hello, everyone! I'm happy to report that I've been hired at a packaging company and I'll be starting work by tomorrow.
After breaking my leg in October, I had to be removed from my job as a photographer since I was only on the job for a short time. They said that I can re-apply to the job once I've healed up and done my rehabilitation. Sadly, it didn't work out as well as I thought. I couldn't re-apply to the same studio because they were full. So in turn, I applied again to the company, but they were not interested in hiring me. In the end, I had to pick myself up and move on.
As of now, I can do all sorts of things now that my ankle has recovered, such as standing on my tip toes and run. However, I do get achey after a long walk or biking. Nothing some naproxine can't fix. I feel kinda bad that I take so much for my ankle, the surgeon said it will take a whole year for it to feel like normal. The scar on the inside of my leg is a nice soft pink, but the outside scar is still noticible and an weird burgundy colour.
A couple of months passed and I was called up by one of the employers that I sent a résume to and had two interviews with them. Several months went by and they gave me the position. You have no idea how elated I was to hear the news. After so many years of souless and painful freelancing, I was able to plant my roots into a stable job. As much as I love making things and creating them by scratch while I was freelancing, I had a horrible time with one of my clients who tore down almost everything I made for him. I even had to tell him to stop sending me so many emails and badgering me because I was starting to get anxiety attacks. (Yes, this was my first true anxiety attack. My heart felt like it was being crushed by a vice for a week.)
Nevertheless, with this new start, I hope this will put my mind a ease and help me to get back into what I love most: drawing and writing. It's been a while, but I want to improve my skills in drawing, especially human proportions and perspective (and learn how to digitally paint and colour). I feel like the reason I haven't been putting out anything is because ofthe stress of looking for a job. At first, I wanted to have a stable job and work fo a company. If anything, doing freelance work was just a minor detail for me to make some money for a bit, but not something that I would want to do all my life. Then again, I don't really see myself as a good freelance graphic designer with some of the backlash I get from one of my clients.
I remember back when I was at my lowest point with my broken leg and coping with having to live with a cast for two months. My Dad gave me a hug and said, "Don't worry, things will get better." In the end, it gradually got better. I just had to persevere.
Ever since completing my first year of being on DA, I've got notes from absolute randos (random people) asking me for points. It's been five years now and I still get people begging me to give them points.

I AM SICK OF ALL OF THIS SHIT AND ALL OF THE PEOPLE WHO BEG ME FOR GODDAMN POINTS!

First off, I don't have any points. At all! I have never went out of my way to get points for myself or even begged others to give me points. If I don't do that, then why should I give out points to you?
Secondly, to the complete randos that ask me this almost every month. STOP! I don't know who you are or why you want to mooch off of people for these points but stop asking me! Why should I give anything to some rando who I wouldn't care less about? After all, you guys send automatic notes to people on your watch list because you wanna buy some shit or whatever. 
Thirdly, if you send me a note asking for points and I say "No" then, for the love of God, stop sending me notes like that altogether! I will say "No" every time you send me these stupid notes and I will delete them. If it's nothing important, then you are not worth my time and energy. If anything, sending me these notes over and over again is harrassment.
If you want free handouts, than go ask someone else!
Update: What's funny is that after I posted this journal entry for a day, I got another note from some doofus begging for points. From now on, I'll be linking them this whenever I reply to them.
Guess what? Anime is now celebrating its 100th birthday. What? You think it was younger than that? Well, some anime characters can pull that off but not anime itself as a whole. One of the many channels I watch on Youtube, The Anime Man, did a video detailing the first anime made over one hundred years ago Here's that said video. It's called "The Dull Sword" or "Nakamura Gatana" in Japanese. Here is the video of it on Youtube.
It's been a while since I've done one of my journal posts where I recommended some comics/manga/manhwa/webtoons etc. So here we are, back again, with more! Also Happy Late May the Fourth Be With You . . . Day. I guess . . . (also Happy Birthday to my Aunt).

Lone Wolf and Cub
Author: Koike Kazuo, Artist: Kojima Goseki
It's about time I recommended a clasic manga like this one! The pacing, the artistry, the characters, just wonderful! Not for the faint of heart if you get put off by blood, gore and sex scenes. There's so much atmosphere and tention between the battles and the artist really lets his prowess show with how he creates each frame. The story is one of revenge and revenge is a path paved by blood. Ogami Itto was once the Shogun's executioner, but the Yagyu Clan, wanting to clain that high honour for themselves, framed Itto and made him a wanted criminal. With his three-year-old son Daigoro, he wanders Japan as an assassin for hire, Lone Wolf and Cub. This guy looks badass with a wooden stroller that can shoot bullets! How can you not ignore such a concept?!

Yakusoku no Neverland (The Promised Neverland)
Author: Kaiu Shirai, Artist: Posuka Demizu
Guess what? I kinda blitzed through this manga in one sitting. Out of the currently serialized manga in Shonen Jump, this is one is unlike the other shonen manga out there. In a sense, it's more adult, dark and intriguing. In a peacefull orphanage, life goes by for a group of children, happy and content. That is until they learn of a dark truth behind the orphanage and why they're kept there. This manga is for anyone who loved Death Note and want something just as suspenseful and creepy. The scenes are naturally heart-pounding, but are also touching and sad. The characters are written smartly and it shine through as they learn more about the strange environment they are caught in. Recently, the first arc has been completed and I can't wait for more.

Isanghago Aleumdaun (Strange and Beautiful)
Author and Artist: Honey Bee
From the creator of Flow coms a new story based around the legends of Korea's goblins (Dokkaebi). Due to a power struggle for a prophecised bride to the goblin heir, a young girl and her sister are spirited away to a strange world inhabited by spell-casting goblins. There, four goblin princes strive to find the chosen bride among the two girls, but it's uncertain whether one or the other are the chosen bride. The youngest sister convinces one of the goblin princes to help save her captured sister from such a fate, but intrigue ensues. This manhwa always keeps you guessing if one sister or the other is the bride and you also learn more about Korean culture and myths due to it's fantasy-like world. The scanners have recently put this on hiatus for a while, but I hope it's picked up soon.

Jitsu wa Watashi wa
Author and Artist: Masuda Eiji
Something a little whacky after all those stories with death, suspence and kidnapping. This is one insane comedy filled with vampires, aliens, werewolves, demons, time travelers, possessed objects and more. Alas, the poor MC, Kuromine, who can't keep his true emotions from showing, has to hide their secrets from all the normies or else. The MC does get caught in a love web from possible crushes, but he currently has his eyes on the hot vampire. All of the characters are hilarious to read and are enjoyable to watch as all hell breaks loose.

My Giant Nerd Boyfriend
Author and Artist: Fisheye
Oh, hey! A webtoon on Line Webtoon (and the follwoing are also found on Webtoon). Fishball has a boyfriend, a tall nerd boyfriend clocking in at 199cm. Hijinx ensues as she chronicles the silly occurances that happen when there's a height difference of 30cm between you and your significant other. This is an funny yet down-to-earth comic with the occaisonal silly request or Q and A at the end of the strip.

Saphie: The One-Eyed Cat
Author and Artist: Joho
Another slice of life comic who records her three and later four cats as they do hilarious shenanigans to her and her family . . . but mostly Saphie, who is the silliest of the bunch. She does own these cats in real life and has posted some of their pictures in her comics. These stories range from parodies, slice of life and some rare heart-felt stories. She even tells how each of her family's cats cam into their home, which is always a treat to hear. For some reason, all of her cats have names beginning with 'S' . . . I don't know why, but it might pop up in a later comic.

Miss Abbott and the Doctor
Author and Artist: Maripaz Villar
Let's try a romance story that isn't too mushy. Cati Abbott is an adventurous young lady trying to adjust to Western civilization after being in the Amazon since she was a little girl. Dr. Andreas Marino is a straight-laced young doctor of a small town, who has to live up to the reputation of his grandfather, the former town doctor. These two unlikely people can't seem to stand each other at first, but warm up to each other as their paths keep crossing and bud into a young romance. You know how some romances feel forced or contrived? This one actually feels REAL! There's no bullshit to it and the characters are likeable and funny in their own way. The artist recently took a break after finishing the first stroy arc, but will return on June 3rd.

A Budgie's Life
Author and Artist: Muffin Girl
More pet antics, but this time with birds! Well, budgies to be precise. Watch as the author chronicles her pet budgies Tony and Chewy as they try to get along and the troubles of owning a pet bird. There's a hint that another budgie will coem in later but that's it for spoilers. You can say it's like Saphie, but with birds . . . but it's still enjoyable to read.
Well, it's tax season again! Not a very exciting season unless you're dealing with banking and money. MONEH 
To most of us, taxes are rather a chore to deal with especially when you don't save up your receipts or keep track of things like savings and earnings. Financial responsibility might seem like a daunting task for some, but it's best to learn about money from the start.
And who better to talk about money than Scrooge McDuck.
I found another video on Youtube that related to my struggle with one teacher who ddin't like my art. Any of my long-time followers would know I did a similar journal like this a few years ago. However, I think this is important to all artists trying to find their own style and seeking help.

Here's another video from the same artist talking about jealousey in the art community.
Okay, I know I said before that 2016 needs to be taken behind the shed to be shot, but now I reeeeaaaally want it to die! I'm still a bit raw from the death of the late and great Carrie Fisher. Maybe I shouldn't have seen Rogue One on the day she was pronounced dead.BB-8! (And now her mother died? This year is just awful for celebrities)
However, I'm going off track, back to my recovery story from earlier.
With my leg being in such a state, I was confined to the main floor of the house. With my room being on the upper floor, I couldn't ascend the staircase in my state. For now, the recliner chair acted as my make-shift bed and usual sitting spot for the next eight weeks. For the next eight weeks, I will stay mostly in the living room with no privacy until everyone goes to bed. For the next eight weeks, I'll be washing myself in the main floor washroom with baby wipes and the odd hair wash from my Mom when needed. For the next eight weeks, I'll have to keep my leg elevated when sitting and not put any pressure on it, only relying on my walker to help me get to and from the washroom when needed. For the next eight weeks, I'll have to dress myself with whatever can accomodate me, which was mostly skirts and a loose top. Seldom to say, these eight weeks went by at a slug's pace.
The first two weeks were with my gauze cast which weighed a ton on my swollen leg. When on my walker for the first week, I couldn't bend my leg back since it put too much strain on my body. It was best to use a walker with you leg bent back behind you instead of forward. I had to bend it forward for one week. The problem with bending the leg forward on your walker is you'll take longer to walk. Eventually, I was able to bend it back, but not without taking breaks along the way to the washroom. This was cumbersome for me who needed to go to the toilet right away. Although, that was one thing my body had to adjust to, the other was my stomach. The first day I got home, I only had enough room in my belly for an apple and that's all I had besides the odd drink of water. The Tylenol 3s I had reacted badly in my stomach. Sure they help with the pain, but gave me stomach aches later on. Weening off of them was the best solution and helped me with eating more. It was during these two weeks that I got the most well-wishers who sent their condolences and gifts. It's times like these when the affection of others makes you feel ten times lighter.
After two weeks, I was summoned to the hospital again by my surgeon, but had to visit him in a wheelchair. After a quick x-ray, I was taken to a different wing of the hospital where recovering patients go to. It was there that they wer going to remove my cast. My Mom had to excuse herself to go outside, not wanting to see the poor shape of my foot and leg. She was like that for another few weeks, since looking at my messed-up leg would make her go raw and turn away. It was an odd experience for my Mom, too-- you can take someone else's injury at face-value, but when it's an injury to someone you love, it pierces you. With the parent away, they cut away the gause cast and I felt a weird sensation over my leg . . . touch. The touch of something else besides soft gause, the feeling of something hard press against the sole of my foot. The feeling of air hitting my once covered body part with a vengence of cold, piercing every pore. After the cast was removed (with some congealed blood on the inside, which was normal in the healing process) I looked at what laid beneath. Everything from the above part of my ankle to the top of my foot was purple, bruised and puffy. Both the outer and inner side of my leg had a scar kept together by a string of staples. The outside of my leg had a scar that started five inches above my ankle and went down right to the bottom of my ankle. The inside of my ankle had a scar which overlapped the small part of my ankle, to where the two bones above it meet. Then came the part where I had to cover my eyes since watching them pull out my staples will probably make me crap my skirt (can't wear pants with how big the cast was). He used a type of plyers which look like a pair of short pumpkin scissors. Afterwards, he wiped them with somekind of solvent, applied little gause bandages over the scars and helped me get into my new cast, which can be removed. The hardest part was getting my foot to bend at the ankle. The cast was shapped like a big boot, so it had the bend of a boot. Whereas when I had the old cast on, they had to wrap my foot up with it in a pointed position because it was too swollen to bend. It needed to heal in the bent position or else I'll have trouble walking. So, he had to forcefully push it down and pushed it down to the point where my hip socket buckled.
Now came the second part of the cast process. For the next six weeks, I had to keep the removable cast on as much as possible. After two days, I was able to bend my ankle to the shape of the cast, which was a big relief. Hoping around in my walker became so much easier, since this cast was very light in comparison to the former. The only downside was the fact that it didn't breathe like the former cast. Each time I wnet to the toilet, I would have to take my cast off and apply some skin creme so the itching will stop. A lot of dead skin came off my foot and lower leg during this time, especially at the sole, where it was all mushy. While I was in this state of recovery, I had a physiotherapist chime in for the eight weeks I was in a cast to help me with exercises and my mobility. She was very nice and said that I was recovering faster than most people she looked after. Then again, I was younger than most of her clients, so youth played a big factor in my healing process. She also helped me with using crutches, which are far more dangerous to move around than a walker. You can recover with a walker, but one mistake with crutches and your body will get well acquainted with the floor. Nothing much happened during these six weeks accept for Hallowe'en and being in constant supervision of my Mom. She's been a big help to me while I was an invalid, getting food, clothes and helping me wash up my hair, but being the introvert I am, I value some private time. I think the most annoying was when she stayed up late and I wanted to go to sleep, but the tv was still on. Nothing a few blankets and ear plugs can't fix.
With all of that business done, I was summoned to the hospital, yet again. Another quick x-ray and taken to the recovery wing. There I was told that I can now put weight on my leg and start walking. Again, my leg felt the odd sensation of carrying me after a lengthy hiatus, but with the support of crutches for now. I was able to go up the stairs to my room after such a long time, the hefty climb a small price to pay for the comfort of one's room. With the first day back in my bed, I chucked off the boot cast and slept. For the next two days, I kept to walking with my cast on with the support of my crutches. Afterwards, I chucked the boot altogether and got used to walking barefoot again with a little crutch help. Getting up and down the stairs still needed some crutch work, but I worked down to one. At this time, I was using my crutch as a substitute cane while walking.
My physiotherapist visited me for the last time at my house while I was walking and now had to go to the physiotherapist's office for more exercises to get me back in working order. Likewise, the exercises they gave me helped me walk again, but with winter rearing its ugly head, I have to be careful while walking. What's more, I had to wear shoes that accomodated to my swollen foot for the time being. I wore open flats while the weather was good and had to convert to a pair of running shoes my Mom bought but never used. The physiotherapists told me to keep it up while I was still recovering, since all the fluids are stuck down there and made it look all puffy. Slowly, but surely, the swelling went down, now I only have a bit of puffiness around my ankle. I can go up the stairs no problem, but I do have difficulty going down the stairs without making so much noise. I do have a bit of a limp while I'm walking, but I'm also told not to run or jump for the time being until given the okay by the surgeon. My last physio appointment will be in the New Year, but I might need more help with my ankle afterward. I'll also see the surgeon in the New Year who will inspect my ankle.
This is how far I've come after the affair and I look forward to a day when I can walk, run and jump without fear. May the New Year be better than the old and bless us with good fortune and happiness.
Yes, the year that offended everyone is almost done. There's no doubt that this year was terrible, from heaping pile of dead celebrities, batshit craziness in the Middle East and the fact that a considerable chunk of my nation was on fire for a very, very long time. Gladly, I can safely say that we can all take this miserable year behind the shed and blow its brains out with a sawed-off shotgun.
Yet, it wasn't the best year for me either, or at least in the last quarter of the year. Why, you may ask? Well, it's been a while coming, but . . . I broke my leg. You might wanna grab a seat for this story.
Let's rewind back to the Canadian Thanksgiving weekend of this year. The Saturday of that long weekend was pretty swell; I had Thanksgiving dinner with my Mom's side of the family, everything was good and everyone was happy that I got a job at a photo studio. This wasn't the day of reckoning, but at least I was able to have some turkey before going through my whole ordeal. Sunday starts and it started to look like it was going to be a good day: had a nice breakfast, my Mom and I watched Swiss Army Man (which you should go watch, it's both funny and touching) and had a nice enough day to clean up the backyard of all the lawn furniture and autumn waste. It was around one o'clock that I was finishing up putting away the compost. My Mom went inside to make herself something to eat and my Dad went out for some light grocery shopping and a small visit at the bar we frequent. I was returning to the backyard after putting away the compost bin when I saw a brown bag of compostable waste on the patio. There was no one else around but me and I thought to myself, "I should put this in the garage so that my Dad woundn't have to go get it later." I grabbed the big brown compost bag and began to walk down the one stair that linked the patio to the ground. As I went down, I felt the step sink down a bit, but before I could fix myslef, my ankle rolled and felt my leg take on the full weight of my body.
A split second a pain rushed through my leg and I fell body first into the garden. I felt more physical pain in my left shin than ever in my life. I tried to stifle a scream, but I cursed my way out of the garden by crawling on my hands. As I reached the lawn, I rolled onto my back and tried to calm myself. I laid in a way where your knees were bent to keep your back straight, since when I rolled onto my back, they were like that.
Looking at my left leg, I tried to put weight on my sore leg, but it started to bend. It began to bend above the ankle . . . outward. I froze in place.
I couldn't walk.
After that, I started to scream for help. I kept on screaming for a good five minutes until my Mom heard me. Her face was wide with horror in a way I've never seen her. She called for an ambulance right away and stayed with me to keep me calm. A neighbour from two doors down came over and stayed with me, too. I felt my leg buckle from the split and she got a cooler to help prop up my leg. The only decent thing about it was that it didn't split my leg open or it had bone sticking out of my body.
It took about twenty minutes for the paramedics to come by and treat me. However, they didn't have the right splint for my leg, so they had to call another ambulance who had the proper splint. This took another twenty minutes. As I was stuck with the first group of paramedics, they tried to put the IV unit into my arm, but didn't have any luck trying to poke a vein. So I had a good few pokes in my arm from a needle. As soon as the other ambulance came by and put the right splint on me, they also tried to poke my arm, but to no avail. So they decided to put me into ambulance without an IV, while I was still in pain (from my broken leg and my handful of pokes).
Once I got to the Hamilton General Hospital, I met up with my parents who arrived before my ambulance came to the hospital (they weren't going top speed down the street since it hurt when they tried to move me over rough terrain). After another wait, they put me in the emergency wing and made an effort to keep me warm. The problem now was putting me in a cast. Since they can't put me under without an IV stuck in me, I had several nurses prod me with a needle in the hopes of trying to hit a vein. I even outwitted a nurse who has never missed a vein! Hell, they even tried a ultrasound to try to pinpoint a vein and they even fucked up! MY VEINS ARE GARBAGE! God help me if I tried to donate blood, that would be a nightmare! This ordeal went on for hours, with breaks in-between. They had to put me in the hallway for a while because they had to wait for a specialist to get the IV into me and there was someone else who needed to use the emergency room. The specialist had her fair share of problems trying to poke me, but she was able to succeed by using a smaller IV needle to poke me. After that, they were able to put me under and put a cast over my left leg. As for the amount of times I've been poked by a needle in my arms . . . over twenty times. I had bruises up and down my arms. They even tried my foot and it didn't work!
With all that done, they said that they can't operate on my right away, so they said I had to wait until my number was called up. The doctor who was looking after me said that my break wasn't life-threatening, but surgery was needed to pathc up the two bones I've broken. He went on to say that because I've broken my leg in such a way, I'll definitely get arthritis down there. You can imagine the joy on my face when I heard that. Since I couldn't walk at all and my parent's house was full of dumb stairs, we decided it was best for me to stay at the hospital and wait there.
And oh, how my troubles began . . .
My first night there wasn't even in an actual room, it was in a waiting room for patients. The worst was not getting a wink of sleep, since one guy with dementia was barking in the middle of the night. It took forever for him to shut up and they really can't talk to him since English isn't his best language. With Day 2 starting off with little sleep, they put me in a partitioned room where they bring people into after they were done surgery. Since it was blocked off from everyone else, I was able to have some privacy, but the nght I spent there was also horrid. They were doing construction in that room. You would think that they wouldn't have construction going on in a room that has PATIENTS IN IT!
Good God, after the McMastery University Hospital was made solely into a children's hospital, the General has been overflodded with people. Not to mention the nurse cutbacks are really hurting the industry. I find it positively stupid of the Ontario Government to lay-off nurses in a province with an AGING POPULATION! Older people are more likely to get sick or injured! You should have more doctors and nurses, not less!
Day 3 comes by an I'm moved yet again. This time, I'm sharing a room with three other people. These three other people are two elderly men and one elderly woman. They couldn't put me in a room with people around my age or are they just fucking with me now? And these guys were lying one their beds with whatever they had hanging out, so I had to hide behind a curtain to keep my sanity. Also the two elderly gentleman were no fun to sleep around, the one guy next to me kept moaning all day and night and the guy across from me snored violently in little bursts. Again, I couldn't sleep a full night. Day 4 comes in and this is the only day I had where a nurse was polite enough to bathe me. I wasn't able to have a shower on the Sunday I broke my leg, so I was smelling my own stank for several days. Since I couldn't walk over to the bathroom, I had to be bathed in my bed. The elderly lady who was in my room left and was replaced by another elderly gentleman. This guy liked to watch tv (the only tv in the room) until the wee hours of the morning.
I don't think there's a word for the type of livid I was going through. Each day I was holding onto the promise of having my surgery be today, but it was pushed back for someone else. Each day, I was starved until nine in the evening with a meal that was not picked out by me or without any of the nurses to ask me what I want to eat. The IV they put into me didn't stay in me for long and had to be removed on Day 2. The only thing I was allowed to have while I was starving each day was a pill to numb the pain and a little water to go with it. Apparently, having any food or drink before a surgery can muck things up. Starved, forced awake and had to listent to people's noises, I was ready to punch a hole in the concrete wall. On Day 4, there was one nurse with an annoying laugh that went on and on for an hour in the hallway which gave me a spliting headache. I wanted to push my bed out the door and yell at her to shut up! The only thing keeping my sanity through all of this was my parents coming in each day to check up on me. My Mom was doing everything in her power to help me with my current situation, but the way the system is set up at the Gen is so dumb. They didn't have complaint forms at the hospital, everything was done online. They didn't have a number to put out complaints at the hospital or anything. In my frenzy, I kept on asking my Mom to get me a better room, but all the rooms like the one I was in were full. In the end, my Mom had to give me ear plugs so that I don't drive her crazy with my requests. I even flipped out at a nurse because she took forever to get a bedpan for me and I was holding it in painfully. I wish I could take back everything I said and done on that day. The earplugs helped me calmed down. I was able to apologise to the nurse for my snippy attitude.
Nevertheless, a little miracle happened that day. In the evening, two surgeons came in and told me that my operation will proceed sometime tomorrow. Not tonight, but tomorrow. I wish I could be more thankful, but I was so hangry I gulped down my water after they told me. They kept stringing along the prospect of operating on me for three days. For three days they starved me. I am not at my best when I skip a meal. Afterwards, I just wanted tomorrow to come sooner.
Day 5 was here and the one guy beside me was very active. Usually he would groan all day and night, but during the night and a decent part of the day, he was snorring. LOUDLY. He was sucking in air like he owned it! I had to read with my earplugs in or else I would go livid again. For some reason, my nurse for that morning schedule was bringing in food for me, but I had to shoo him away. I was getting my surgery done today no matter what. I'm not sure why he didn't get the memo to not give me food, but I wish someone told him. You get this weird feeling when you tell people not to bring you food when you in return really want food, but can't have any.
When the assistants came to roll me out of the room, I felt like a million bucks. I was happy to go to surgery. I never thought I would go through such a feeling, but these past few days were out of the norm for me. As soon as I got into the OR, it was my last round of people trying to poke me. After about six pokes, they had to resort to some hard measures. What I mean by this is tying the stretchy band across my arm so tight I started to cuss. It hurt, but it worked. After they put me under, it was probably the only time I had some decent sleep in that hospital. The cast they put on me after the surgery was a thick gause cast with some fluffy cotton felt woven into it. It also had metal supports for my foot and leg, but it also made it super heavy. The nice thing about it was it didn't itch, because the material was breathable. Afterwards, my Mom was able to get me a semi-private room. The room I shared with was with an older gentleman, but by far the best one! We actually talked to each other, which was something none of the other people I bunked with did. The man I stayed with, Allen, was also waiting for surgery-- but unlike me, he had to get surgery on both of his legs after getting hit by a car. So we kept each other company and I also made sure that he didn't hear me eat, because previous experience taught me how tantilizing it is to want food when you're being starved. My folks visited me after the surgery and I was able to meet the head surgeon who did my operation. He told me about how I'll be getting a different cast after two weeks have past and stay on that cast for several weeks. He also let slide all of the weird regulations that surgeons at the Gen had to go through. What I will let slide is that not all of the operating rooms are open. Not all of the ORs are used because it uses up money and equipment. Nevertheless, if a hospital has to worry about something like that, you know something fishy is going on with management. If anything, I'm glad the surgery was a success. What they put into me is severals screws, a plate and a noose, which is a type of stitching keeping things together. Almost all of it is stainless steel, so I'll definitely getting beeped whenever I go into the metal detector at an airport.
Day 6, my last day at the Hamilton General Hospital. It was odd to get meals on a regular basis after my long fast. Sadly, I wasn't able to eat much, just some milk and a banana. For those of you not familiar with what your body does while it's starving, the stomach shrinks in size and cannot handle a regular portion of food. This stomach problem will stick to me for a while after I leave the hospital. After breakfast, I went to get an x-ray of my leg and got a visit with the physiotherapist. Since crutches are rather unstable considering how weighty my cast was, I had to make due with a walker. She went through all the stuff with using a walker, as well as climbing the stairs with just my hands and bum. It was really hard to use a walker, because it's all upper body strength. If anything, going to the washroom wihout using a bedpan was very rewarding. Allen watched me go and told me that seing me get up and go has inspired him to do the same and get better as soon as possible after the surgery. I was his spark of inspiration. It's one of those things people say to you that just put a smile on your face. Afterward, we were able to set up a rental walker for me and be able to get me discharged from the Gen. However, it took several hours for our walker to get delivered and the nurse couldn't help take me all the way down to the main floor on a wheelchair because of regulations. She was able to get security to help me with the rest of the way to my Mom's car. I said goodbye to Allen after our long chat and wished him the best. After getting home, it was a harrowing trek up the uneven driveway to the garage, up the three steps of stairs and into the living room, where I was destined to sleep in. You wouldn't think getting from one place to another on one leg and a stretcher would put you out of breath, but it did. I had breaks in-between.
At last, I reclined back into the chair and put my feet up. I was home. Home never felt so comforting. Sadly, this just ended one chapter of my healing process and began a new one.
Part 2 of my broken leg story will come soon to a deviantART near you!
Wow, I haven't written a journal entry since late July. What was I doing all this time? Oh yeah, looking for a job!I've got too much work to do. 
Last week was very hectic for me with three interviews for jobs. The first job was digital print operator, which they didn't call me back on. The second interview was for a data entry clerk, which I got on the spot at the interview. You have no idea how elated I was to be given a job afterthe interview. I've been looking for a stable job, that wasn't freelance (even though it was fun it was very sporadic pay and one customer was an uppity arse) since I left college. Freelance was the only thing that was making me money at the time, but it slowly wore me down. Although I had reliable customers, one of them (the uppity arse) always criticized my work and will go out of his way so that he would make me miserable to work for him! Even though he was one of my main customers, I had to break ties with him. It wasn't worth working for him if he had a habit of making me want to kick his face in.
However, back to the data entry clerk job, which was good to hear at first, but had a lot of downsides for me in the long run. A drive to work from my home was 44 minutes and the job was 8am to 4:30pm. I would have to wake up at 5:30am to take a shower, brush my teeth, have breakfast, make lunch and go for a long dash to work on a rural highway. These trips back and forth from work will not only make me spend twice a week for gas, but it would make me have to take my car for an oil change twice a month. TWICE! And those things aren't cheap!
So, in the wake of having to deal with a physically grueling job, I put all of my chips on the last job that was willing to interview me, a photography studio. It was a short drive away from my place and it wouldn't be taxing on my car and on my wallet. The lady who interviewed me was really nice and I put my all into giving her the best of me. Be the Eagle, not the Turtle, as they say! We got along really well and she really wanted to see my photos, but she asked me to email them to her. With that, I sent her some of my older photos and some cellphone pictures I took. I heard from her yesterday that she wants me to start work right away on Monday. I howled in joy and so did my Dad. He was hoping I got this job too, since he didn't like the other job I was offered.
Therefore, I will be working more often for now on and hopefully this job will help me get back into nature photography. I'll definitely post anything I take that's worth sharing. Any-who, cheers to new beginnings!Cheers 
I came across this channel after watching someone mention it. Dr. Sandra Lee aka Dr. Pimple Popper is a dermatologist who makes videos on her disections of various cysts, blackheads and other gross stuff she has to get rid of on her patients. Of course, these are allowed by her patients and she posts these videos for medical reasons and for future students to learn from. Nevertheless, I have to appaude her for her work: she's very gentle and considerate to her patients and doesn't put them in stress. Even her voice is rather calming and soothing, compared to some of the gory disections she has to do. Then again, most of her videos don't really bother me by my point of view. I have to pop and clean out my Mom's cyst on her back whenever it starts to fill up with puss. Her cyst is in a rather inconvenient place between the shoulder blades . . . moreover, my Dad doesn't handle well with gory stuff, even tv show gore. But back to the matter at hand, I've been skimming through some of her videos and found this one, where she has to extract a large lipoma from a patient's shoulder. A lipoma is a benign tumour made up of fatty issue. All in all harmless, it can be removed if the lipoma causes discomfort or cometic concern. WARNING: this video is quite graphic, so make sure you don't eat anything.
It's been almost two months since I last made a journal entry . . . and a longer whit since my last proper journal entry that wasn't a video I found on Youtube. If anything, I wan't to apologize for the lack of artwork I've posted on here. I've been rather busy scouring for jobs and working on a long term project of mine that I may share here sometime. It feels weird that I'll soon be 27 in a few days. I still feel like I'm 21, but I don't feel any older or younger.
Something very unexpected happened to me lately. For starters, I'm the one who mainly takes care of the backyard at home with watering, weeding and mowing. Since we have a bird bath and a few bird feeds, we get a ton of bird traffic. There's even a new nest in the grapevine, but it's rather high up and impossible to see the inside of the nest. I'm pretty sure one of the robins who frequent us made a nest there or maybe the several finches and sparrows who pass by. My Dad and I like sitting on the patio and watch them drink from the bird bath. Rarely any of them bathe in it, which is rather odd, but kinda understandable since it's made of glass. Today wasn't as cheery. Sometimes I water the plants a second time in the afternoon, this was one of those days. After I was done, I noticed something yellow at my feet. It was a baby chick, all sickly yellow and lifeless. In hindsight, it was a good metre away from the nest and the nest was suspended above the patio. The little chick was near the middle of the patio and was very intact. I couldn't leave him lying there so I ran out to the shed, got a spade and dug a hole for him in the back garden to bury him. Taking him back to his little grave, I saw how tiny he was. Tiny little wings and feet attached to a round body with a big head, he was nearly naked except what looked like the beginning growth of feathers on his back. I've never seen a dead chick before me, I've seen some birds get torn apart, but never a chick.
I stayed for a little bit after I buried him. I hope he wasn't thrown out of the nest by his mother.
This is what I've been addicted to recently.
:iconleothefox: tagged me again. Not that I don't mind, I just feel he's the only one who likes to conclude me in his tagging posts.

1. What was your most recent weird dream?
I always have weird dreams but I tend to forget a good chunk of them as soon as I wake up.

2. If you were to record an epic concept album with bookend tracks and one of those sweet insert books between the multiple-records (cuz you'd put it on vinyl) and you decided not to do all the sweet internal and external art illustrations yourself, which artist would you hire to make your record all pretty? :jester: Revamp 
Get Whoopi Goldberg, get her to be possessed by Leonardo DaVinci and have Leo paint my cover.

3. When you have accomplished something or done a thing you didn't want to (like work or taxes or cleaning), do you reward yourself with a tasty thing? And what is that tasty thing?
Wait, I have to do taxes? Usually anything sweet would do for me or maybe an alcoholic drink of my liking.

4. Do you ever worry about your art looking different on different monitors and devices?
Unless I accidentally use the wrong colour mode for the piece of artwork that's suppose to go online or that's suppose to get printed. But usually I fret over the proportions since I'm usually fudging up in the area.

5. Do you believe fiction should be under a heavy burden to reflect "real life" or do you think it should be permitted to be escapist and entertaining?
It all really depends on what the writer wants to create and to give light to. The reader or viewer is merely an overseer brought to observe such stories. The reader chooses to be submerged into whatever fictional world they want to be in, be it dark and unforgiving or bright and free.
6. Um... have you seen that I has a Tumblr? :innocent: Revamp 
Leo, I don't go onto Tumblr because it's gone amuck with thousands of SJWs and feminazis. I would like to, but a straight female like myself would only be prey to them.

7. Do you ever catch yourself dwelling on negative stuff? Do you try and stop yourself?
I've had depression since I was five . . . so yeah. Sometimes watching a movie, playing video games or laughing to something funny online helps with that. Nevertheless, the most potent remedy is a hug from someone who cares.

8. If I was to get a dozen doughnuts to share with you, which doughnuts would you like? :rainbowla: 
Is that a trick question?Seven Deadly Sins :: Gluttony 

9. If this was the post-apocalypse universe like in The Road Warrior or After the Fall of New York, what kind of awesome apocalypse-vehicle-thing would you be driving?
Anything from Mad Max: Fury Road . . . pretty obvious.

10. Do you ever wish there was more blue food?
Just add blue food colouring to it.

11. Does it seem to you, as you get older, that intelligent thought actually informs morality?
I would have to say yes, because experience is the greatest teacher. However, morality has been studied and shaped by different factors like philosophy, anthropology, evolution, psychology and so on. Morality is the constant evolution of the ethical being.

12. Where are you going to build your sweet super-villain lair? Rainbow bullet (Anti-clockwise) 
Thank goodness, an easy question. A large mansion surrounded by thick pines (someplace where were there are four seasons) to hide me from the serious eyes of the world.

13. Who is mystery-guest number 13??? Shocked
Wait . . . I have a mystery guest?
We all have this image of how museums usually look; big, quiet and full of antiques with little displays and plaques that tel what they are, where they came from and when they were conceived. I've been to a few museums and art galleries myself since art and history has always fascinated me. However, once in a while you come across a museum that's not like the others. It might be dedicated to something that's completely out of the ordinary from the antiques or artifacts you find in your regular museum. All in all, I would like to go visit some of the weird museums listed here out of sheer curiosity. Then again, a lot of these museums are outside my country . . . need to save up.

Sugar Museum (Berlin, Germany)
Yes, my sweet tooth begs to see this one. Now part of the German Museum of Technology, the Sugar Museum is the oldest museum in the world, dating back to 1904. It exhibits the importance of sugar and how its history helped influence it from being a status symbol of the wealthy to becoming part of everyday life. Not to mention how sugar is extracted from such products such as sugar cane and sugar beet as well as its importance for making alcoholic beverages throughout history.

Icelandic Phallological Museum (Reykjavik, Iceland)
You know this one would pop up. A museum dedicated to housing an assortment of penises from various humans and animals alike. Probably their biggest collection is their exhibit of whale penises. It's not all about size here, since they have a range of penises from tons of animals, including the smallest penis, which is in fact, a hamster penis. Not a place you would take your kids to, but definitely one of the more eclectic museums found on this list.

Momofuku Ando Instant Ramen Museum (Osaka, Japan)
In case the name of the museum didn't give you any guesses, Ando is the creator of Cup Noodles. With that amount of wealth from creating a cheap meal for starving college students, he created a museum for the soul use of displaying instant noodles from all over the world. There's even a booth where you can make your own instant noodles for you to enjoy! Why not bank in on a museum that makes you feel hungry by giving them a chance to make noodles! GENIUS!

Museum of Medieval Torture Instruments (Amsterdam, Netherlands)
Is the Anne Frank Museum not making you feel uncomfortable? (Then I think there might be something wrong with you, jeez!) Then go over to the Museum of Medieval Torture Instruments in the same city. There's over a hundred displays of torture devices in this museum, ranging in the categories of bizarre to how-the-hell-does-it-work. I wouldn't be surprise to find torture devices from the Spanish Inquisition. Nevertheless, no one expects the Spanish Inquisition.

Dog Collar Museum (Kent, UK)
Inside Leeds Castle in Kent, there's a museum dedicated to the collecting of dogs collars. I find this one rather fitting since I'm currently dog-sitting for my Mom's friend who's away on holiday in Florida. The museum houses 130 historic pieces, the oldest collar in their collection belonged to a herding Mastiff from the 15th century. Although, I find it odd that it doesn't allow dogs in the museum.

Cancun Underwater Museum (Cancun, Mexico)
Hate being stuck in a dry museum? Well with the one you go scuba diving to see all the neat underwater sculptures! This underwater museum got some attention a handful of years ago with the diligent work of sculptor Jason deCaires Taylor. He created over 400 sculptures for this museum that you can swim up to. 400 sculptures for a museum, that's pure artist dedication there!