SugarSkull

About Me
- Emily Story
- I'm in a perpetual phase of transition which doesn't seem to be phasing out.
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Friday, December 26, 2014
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
Friday, December 19, 2014
Penis Santas
I made one penis santa card for a coworker, then I got commissioned to do 3 more for her, and 10 for another coworker. I have never drawn so many dicks in my life. By the end I really felt like I had accomplished something....then I thought to myself, it's 2014, why the fuck didn't you just make copies?
Monday, November 24, 2014
My sister's nursery
My sister is due in March and is waiting 'til the day of to know the sex, so I'm drawing a bunch of gender neutral animals for the nursery. Here's the first four:
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My sister and brother in law are HUGE NC State fans/ Alum. I drew this for them while under the influence of hydrocodone after getting a wisdom tooth extracted. |
Monday, November 10, 2014
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Monday, October 13, 2014
Rehash
Got a lot on my brain, but not a lot to say, so here's a little flashback post to images that seem to be of the most interest to viewers. I have no idea how the statistics of my blog views reflect on my abilities or character, but I'm pretty okay with that. Mainly because I'm sleepy and don't feel like going to the grocery store.
Saturday, October 11, 2014
Friday, October 10, 2014
Armies in Space
About a week go I was driving to work and caught a part of the
program “Radiolab” on NPR (http://www.radiolab.org/story/91520-space/).
They were discussing outer space and human insignificance. As we learn more
about the seemingly limitless universe, it makes us feel smaller and
smaller. They mentioned our need for art
alongside of science to remind us that we are important at least to ourselves.
Or at least that we have value within our own human system.
What happened to the good ‘ol days when we thought we were
the center of it all, the most important aspect, God’s children? Well those
days are long gone, yet we manage to continue to take ourselves very fucking
seriously. We lead lives that are
monotonous, heterogeneous, trite, but we have so many devices to enhance our
self-righteousness and narcissism. We want so much to feel like individuals, to
have purpose to have self-worth. America is a nation of a bunch anxiety-ridden,
insecure lonely souls, who perpetually maintain a façade of happiness, of
insincere authenticity. We convince ourselves that the masks we wear are really
just our faces enhanced, and we grow to believe our own bullshit. We grow to
believe we are important.
And yet I still ask myself, is that such a bad thing? Is it
bad to lie to oneself for the benefit of keeping one’s head above water? I’m
fucking drowning, and it’s painful. I’m drowning in heartbreak about a lot of
things. And I know other people hurt and suffer and that that’s one of the only
things we all have in common. The optimistic idealist in me also believes in
love, but only because my parents are the greatest people on earth. And also because Durham had rainbow flags
flying on every shop front and street corner in town during Pride week, and
it made me feel like everything might just be okay, that people might actually
fucking love each other. What a nice idea. Or Maybe Durham just really loves
the queers. Well whatever it is, it made me like my town more.
In an increasingly post-theist world, we now create new
forms of artificial communities to create a sense of kinship in interests.
Examples:
-hipsters (whatever that really means anymore. I’m a fucking
hipster apparently.)
-marathon runners
-beer enthusiasts
-dog enthusiasts
-kitten enthusiasts
-cupcake enthusiasts
-bicycle enthusiasts (oh wait, I already wrote “hipsters”
that’s redundant)
-foodies
-gluten-free people, the opposite of a foodie, but just as
pretentious.
-gamers
-football fans who say stuff like “we won” as if they’re on
the team
-the Game of Thrones obsessed
-pinterest addicts who knit shit
etc. etc. etc.
I used to think this was bad. Maybe it’s not. I’m
self-pitying and lonesome and go about my small little existence feeling like
I’m better than people for being able to feel. But everyone feels, they might
distract themselves from their selves, but they feel. They have to, right? And
what’s so bad about community building through shared interests? It’s certainly
better than groups of people experiencing blood shed because their god is
better than the others’ god. I don’t expect to see hipsters shooting down bros
for popping their collars and driving large vehicles and consuming animal
products anytime soon. Hey it might happen though. Also, I still hate all of
the groups listed above, for simply having an identity based around shit I
don’t care about.
I held my arm up next to my African American co-worker the
other day and said “man I need a fucking tan, I’m a ghost.” She laughed. It
made me think about all the barriers we’ve created in humanity when really we
are just people. We are a species. Fish
swim, birds fly, fruit flies fuck a lot and die young. What defines our
species? What are my limitations and special attributes due to my humanness? I
feel like other animals might think very similarly to other members of their
species, maybe not, I don’t actually know, but I’ve always felt like I see the
world differently than most people, that I’m just so goddamn mother fucking
unique, and really all it does is isolate me.
And then I remember that in the grand scheme of the universe, I’m just a
speck. But I think I have a soul, I think humans have souls, and animals too
probably. I saw this video back in grade school of a kangaroo mother wailing,
screaming, sobbing because her little adorable Joey had died. That shit scarred
me for life. I will never forget it.
I look at the moon a lot. I love the moon. Looking at the
moon helps put everything in perspective; after all it does control the currents
of the ocean, the fucking beautiful, alluring and mysterious sea.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
A visit to the past in the present, which is also now the past because I'm writing about it.
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ET and Me. Asheville, way back in 2011 |
Things aren’t forever. But the world keeps on spinning round and round. I came back to a town I’d left and of course it had kept on going, but businesses had changed, shop fronts looked different, there was a new biscuit place, new bars and a different coffee shop in the space where my favorite coffee shop had once been. Time goes by and things slowly change in an often unremarkable way. The video rental store is still around. Like Caleb said "Rosebud will always be around, they have loyal customers." The girl that works there is always there, every time I've ever gone. But this time a lot of time had passed and I noticed that her face was still quite lovely , but the creases and lines of her varying human interactions had begun to leave their mark. When you leave and come back to a place it's like time lapse photography. Nuances that took time to chisel their ever pressing and evolving marks, seem at an altogether new point, which I wouldn't have had the capacity for noticing had I remained there this whole time.
I'm back home now. My new home. I've never left North Carolina, but I've resided in several different places. Somehow my comfort zone seems to lie within the borders of this state, regardless of location. Or maybe that's just how things have worked themselves out.
...
Maybe that guy was just running in the rain and he didn't tell anybody about it. Who's to know?
And here I am, sharing my experience with you, the world.
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Funny People.
Monday, August 25, 2014
Dirty Martini
I’m floating
in outerspace with weights on my arms. The mice crawl on me when I’m sleeping, I never know about it, so I can’t promise that they do, but I know that there
are mice in the house. And I dream of bald headed eagles wearing dead dog heads
as masks and I wonder what it all means. I’m not all that political.
I’m always
wondering about where life will take me with a pit in my stomach that I’ll
never go anywhere. But the pit feels substantial. A heavy weight of emptiness. I
wish it was more motivating, but somehow it just keeps me in a passionately
apathetic, apathetically passionate rut.
I’ve done a lot of bad things, I’ve
hurt a lot of good people and all I want to do is get through this thing alive,
but I don’t wanna live forever.
My co-worker said to me recently: "In the history of the human race, nobody gets out of this thing alive....I got that from a friend of mine who is no longer with us....I guess that's a bit dark." Being "real" in our culture is always considered dark. We all pretend that this shit doesn't end.
I’m gonna
try to keep this plant alive that I bought for my ex boyfriend when we were still together that he kept
forgetting to take home with him. I have to remember to water it. Not for any
real reason, I just need to prove that I have some follow through. I guess
that’s a reason.
The layers
of fog are so thick in the person that people are. I believe in souls lately, but I’m not sure
about ghosts. I want to be a good person but I can be so cruel. I can be so
goddamn awful. I’m a shit sometimes. A real turd ball.
And the
complexity of the obvious kills me. Obvious complexity is a puzzle that isn’t
supposed to be solved because it’s already put together by someone higher than
you, someone who doesn’t exist. The corporation is an individual and
individualism is a corporation. And I laugh at myself for being sad about it,
because it doesn’t really matter. But it matters a lot. But "we all just die in the end" is always my excuse and my curse. And I stand still as I get older. And one day I will
just be old. Nobody cares about old people. Unless it’s your grandmother. And I
have a feeling I’ll never be a mother. And if I am I will ruin that kid’s life
by being too honest about life. But maybe they’ll turn out all right in the end
because of it.
I get stuck
in the paradoxical circles of human behavior. The whole “what doesn’t kill you
makes you stronger” crap. I’ve always preferred people who think everything in
life is shit, but I have an optimism in me that life is actually really quite
beautiful, even the suffering. Then I create situations that will make me
suffer just to feel my pulse again. And I‘m getting too old to be like that but
I can’t ever seem to be comfortable any other way for very long.
In the end I’m
trite as hell but people think I’m interesting. I think I’m probably just
mentally unstable. But I always think I’m so real. So authentic. God. Oh God.
Authenticity is impossible, especially when that’s what you think you are.
Monday, August 18, 2014
Koala
This was my present to my room mate on her birthday since I'm poor. She doesn't have a favorite animal, but she said she likes giraffes, koalas and baboons. She later told me she would probably pick different animals every time someone asked her what her favorite is, and that she'd never really been asked that before. I went with a koala, because they're cute and shit.
Sunday, August 10, 2014
Monday, July 28, 2014
Douche University
Yesterday a semi-regular customer came into the coffee shop. He struck up a conversation with me, asking me how I'd been and whatnot. I told him the usual blurb I tell people, that I've mostly just been working a lot. Then he started talking about his recent trip to Mexico, which a lowly barista who can't afford vacations just can't wait to hear about. He said he got stopped by customs at an airport and was randomly selected for questioning. I interjected and asked him if they made him drop his pants. He got super uncomfortable. I guess he got molested, or just thought it was weird that I asked him that. Then I tried to back-track and apologized for lacking a filter (which I'm never actually sorry about). He said "it's okay I went to the University of Michigan." I asked him what that had to do with anything and he said "everyone is socially awkward there."
um okay. University of Michigan people are socially awkward. Good to know down here in North Carolina. I'll be sure to buy a t-shirt, then maybe my whole personality will make more sense to people, if they went to University of Michigan.
Monday, July 21, 2014
Sure, okay, whatever.
Lately I've been feeling less conscious than usual;just perpetually sort of dazed and out-of-it. Somewhat paradoxically though, I'm often aware of feeling that way, and it's consuming and frightening from a strange third person perspective of my own state of mind. The same thoughts circle through my head constantly,
about how I’m boring and I sleep too much and I work too much and I don’t eat
right and I don’t have money. It’s all so dull and redundant. Where did all the
interesting thoughts go? I think I used to have them. I think I used to be
passionate about things. I need to take a vacation. Yes. That’s what I need.
People live for vacations. I need to clear my head of its repetitive thoughts. I need to do
yoga again. That always made me feel good. No actually it made feel kinda
stressed out. Forced relaxation is weird. And it’s like fifteen bucks a class,
I can’t afford that.
I replay the same sorts of thoughts over and over again in my head especially at work. Then a customer will walk up or a co-worker will approach me about something and I snap out of the thought-chain like an alarm clock has gone off in the middle of a good REM cycle. Then moments later, after the interaction ceases, I’ll be right back in the spiral, except it resets to start all over again in almost a verbatim chain. Which is really kinda sad. I just have to have something to occupy my head space, something to fixate on. I can’t deal with having no thoughts. I have to have thoughts. But God my thoughts are so fucking boring and repetitive. I need to read more, yes maybe that will help. More thoughts, I just need more thoughts. Other people’s thoughts will do, that’s fine, just some other goddamn thoughts besides the ones I have over and over and over again.
“I ate too much sugar today. I’m going to gain weight.”
“Oh wow, I hardly ate anything today, I feel skinny.”
“I need to call my grandmother.”
“I need to get back in touch with old friends. I’m going to die alone.”
“Gas is so expensive.”
“Rent is so expensive”
“I should go buy a new dress. That will make me happy.”
“I need to check my bank account. Do I have enough money to make it until pay day?”
“I need to make a payment on my credit card. Mom says I can’t leave a balance on there because then I pay interest. I wonder what my interest rate is. It can’t be that high with a $600 credit limit, right? God I don’t understand anything about money and finance and shit. I should learn about it. Learn how to make money turn into more money. God I am so jealous of rich people. I bet if I was just born rich, I’d have a lot easier of a time getting my stuff out there to the world. I wish I was Jewish too. That would help out I bet. I need to promote my shit. But I don’t want to have to spend time on the computer. I hate computers. Maybe I just like the idea of hating computers. I’m so stubborn. If I just got a smart phone and tweeted shit constantly, I’d probably be more successful. But I’m afraid of indulging my narcissism. And I’m also afraid of being rejected. I’m afraid of everything. I thought this anxiety medication would help with that. I think it just makes me sleep more. I already slept too much. I guess I should tell the doctor that. But I want to be medicated. I like the idea of being medicated. It validates my "issues".
I replay the same sorts of thoughts over and over again in my head especially at work. Then a customer will walk up or a co-worker will approach me about something and I snap out of the thought-chain like an alarm clock has gone off in the middle of a good REM cycle. Then moments later, after the interaction ceases, I’ll be right back in the spiral, except it resets to start all over again in almost a verbatim chain. Which is really kinda sad. I just have to have something to occupy my head space, something to fixate on. I can’t deal with having no thoughts. I have to have thoughts. But God my thoughts are so fucking boring and repetitive. I need to read more, yes maybe that will help. More thoughts, I just need more thoughts. Other people’s thoughts will do, that’s fine, just some other goddamn thoughts besides the ones I have over and over and over again.
“I ate too much sugar today. I’m going to gain weight.”
“Oh wow, I hardly ate anything today, I feel skinny.”
“I need to call my grandmother.”
“I need to get back in touch with old friends. I’m going to die alone.”
“Gas is so expensive.”
“Rent is so expensive”
“I should go buy a new dress. That will make me happy.”
“I need to check my bank account. Do I have enough money to make it until pay day?”
“I need to make a payment on my credit card. Mom says I can’t leave a balance on there because then I pay interest. I wonder what my interest rate is. It can’t be that high with a $600 credit limit, right? God I don’t understand anything about money and finance and shit. I should learn about it. Learn how to make money turn into more money. God I am so jealous of rich people. I bet if I was just born rich, I’d have a lot easier of a time getting my stuff out there to the world. I wish I was Jewish too. That would help out I bet. I need to promote my shit. But I don’t want to have to spend time on the computer. I hate computers. Maybe I just like the idea of hating computers. I’m so stubborn. If I just got a smart phone and tweeted shit constantly, I’d probably be more successful. But I’m afraid of indulging my narcissism. And I’m also afraid of being rejected. I’m afraid of everything. I thought this anxiety medication would help with that. I think it just makes me sleep more. I already slept too much. I guess I should tell the doctor that. But I want to be medicated. I like the idea of being medicated. It validates my "issues".
Friday, June 20, 2014
Sunday, June 8, 2014
Boobs and Bowels
A friend recently told me that he thinks I'm deeply afraid of being boring and that my biggest fear in life is of not being afraid. He was super drunk, but I definitely took that shit to heart. I'm also totally getting boring lately and that scares the shit out of me. Fuck maybe that's actually why I'm pooping more frequently. Because I'm boring and comfortable and stable. Oh no. Well the anxiety attack I'm having thinking about that will probably make me constipated.
I finally bought new normal bras the other day after wearing two sports bras on top of each other every where I went for months. But now, in my new bras, every time I move slightly, like take a step or yawn, I can feel my tits slipping out of the cups so that I have the 4 boob dilemma. And once again, like dozens of times before, I remember why so many annoying fuckers tell me I have to drop 60 bucks at Victoria's secret and not just go to Target. That's also the poor man's dilemma. Spend small amounts of money often on bullshit that you can afford versus spending larger sums of money on better quality shit a lot less often. So I'm perpetually broke and have 4 boobs. Oh fucking well.
Totally unrelated (though people might use this line about me behind my back):
I've noticed that when confronted with a very eccentric person who's kinda really fucking annoying, certain obsessively politically correct folks will say something like "I think Jane is some where on the autism spectrum" like as a way of expressing their discomfort when interacting with that person. That shit is kinda fucked up really.
This video made me horny:
Nudi Eat Nudi World
I'm not sure how to feel about that.
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