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Look at my Baby, Look at my Baby, Look at my Baby, Baby...Baby!!! Look at Her! Did you See Her? Good...Want to Look Again? No? Too Bad

Ivan Tchaikovsky, my Russian serial killer

Rummaging through my old computer files, I found this. It's dated 12.13.2010. I am not sure what the fuck I was writing, but I think it might be a character profile for a Sim character I was thinking about creating. Very weird, but I might have to revisit ole' Ivan. He seems like a pretty colorful guy. A real wild card to stir up my Sim suburban wasteland of two car garages and Nuclear families. I am not very creative when it comes to Sim creation. I focus more of house building and decoration.

Have the afternoon off and I am catching up on Ivan Tchaikovsky, my Russian serial killer and criminal mastermind. He spent the first few years of his life in "Mother Russia" before being sent to Kauniainen, Finland at the age of 12 after he was implicated in a string of disappearances in his home town. The evidence was all circumstantial and a case was never fully filed against him, but his parents and the rest of the people in the small village, “just got that vibe” from him. 

 He attended "Evil Boarding School” until the age of 18. He moved to Riverview to start a new life for himself, hoping to start a small fish nursery but that dark evil urge kept boiling up inside of him. He was taught in school that to shun such feelings and repress his desires would only lead to self-destruction and an extreme sense of devitalization .Despite his formal training in the art of the kill, he has yet to actually hurt someone. He did go all George Clooney in "Burn after Reading" and create a creepy basement with a hardware store sex swing, though.

"Yeah you can go on down, it's totally legit"

I don’t know how long his morbid carpentry will keep his sick urges at bay until he finally bursts and decides to do someone in…But it will be soon.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer ATC

I want to do a series of Buffy ATC's, but I don't know how to go about it. I don't know if I should just make them myself, or find a swap online and do it through that channel. I want to get started on these, because I have a few really good ideas. If anyone wants to give input, let me know. Like A is for....B is for and so on. Help is always appreciated!

The Acrostic Husband

I love my husband very much. He evokes a warm cuddly feeling in my stomach reminiscent of a childlike happiness. Hear me, I said reminiscent of. I, of course, am a cold, heartless she-devil. Never forget this. But for him, I am inspired to write a little poem. The kind you're told to write when you're in second grade. An acrostic poem. Just for my hubby (who indecently just declared 8pm to be "snuggly-wuggly time" for our baby kitten, Ichabod). 

"It's 8pm? Get your ass over here, Icky"

Manic and spontaneous 

A little bit nerdy

Takes care of me when I am sick

Thought "racy" and "racist" were the same thing (and it was hilarious) 

Has the cutest smile

Every day he reminds me why I love him

Winning

Always does right by his family

Loves the Foo Fighters

Likes to cook

Enjoys making sex with his wife

Never turns down making sex with his wife

Does horrible impressions of anyone, ever

Actively tries to find ways to creep me out

Very beautiful eyes

Is an amazing husband

Sexy and he knows it

This is What it Must Mean to be a Woman

I am pregnant. I am having a child. This fact is still in some ways still more of a concept than a reality to me. I have seen a blurry picture of a blob and I have heard the wet cadence of a heartbeat. I have this resolute validation that what is happening inside my body is indeed happening inside my body and I am not watching a movie. But there is further proof, beyond what my body and Obstetrician tell me.

Everyone has a comment to make. Everyone wants to remind me what a burden I am undertaking, and how it shouldn't be taken lightly. Everyone wants to piss all over my parade. I forgot that creating new life out of nothing but love is considered taboo. It's no longer a miracle. It's a chore. Everyone tells me how much money it will cost and how drastically my life will change, how horrible it is to be up every 3 hours to feed my infant will be. No one ever talks about holding your baby in your arms for the first time. Or seeing something you made learn something you taught it.

No one talks about the miracle anymore. You can't sell happiness, but you can sell fear and pathos and neurosis.

Furthermore, no one wants to talk about what being a mother means. If my life was a cartoon, a tight bun would be placed on the nape of my neck as would loose fitting clothes and a chain for my glasses. The word "Matronly" even sounds depressing.  No one mentions the intensity of the word. A baby isn't a thing that decorates someones life and home. I don't know what it means yet. I hope that I am not supposed to. I feel very fragile and mortal. I don't feel like an invincible 20-something with the world before me. I feel like a protector in a frightening world against overwhelming odds and it scares the fucking shit out of me. I don't know anything about legacy or anything like that. I don't care how society views young mothers. I just know I have never felt more mortal than I do knowing what I am creating.

People treat me different, too. A pregnant lady on the cusp of a giant life change, doesn't exactly fit into the self satisfying bar scene. It seems ridiculous now. Spending all my money at some hole in the wall bar, getting pitchers of shitty overpriced beer, smoking all my smokes and essentially ending up with a very expensive hangover. It seems especially stupid considering I can achieve the same toilet hugging results for free. This was my weekly routine...at what end? For what reason? The Vincennes bar scene is a horrible substitution for culture. Not to say I wont go out and get drunk after the baby gets here, I will just have something a little more worthwhile to go home to than an empty bed and an empty life.

I know I am rambling, a bit. My thoughts are kind of everywhere. It's just so strange how something so small changes everything and everyone around you. It seems to polarize people. I stuck by Chelsea's side when she had Dominic because she's my best friend and I love her like none other. And now she's pregnant again. And so am I. We are both back in the dirty GC with a bunch of old people from the gang. It's supposed to be this way. My time in away from home was supposed to be my ticket out. In the end, it turned out to be a means to my end. I wouldn't have married Matt. I wouldn't be making a family. I wouldn't be leaving.

I would be sitting at a shitty bar, talking about all the cool stuff I was going to do one day.

What in the Hell Have I Been up to?

I have been gone, and for quite some time.

 I know what you're thinking dark blank interweb space that I envision filled with eager readers. "But lady, you made promises! You said you wouldn't do this!" I know, I know. And I am sorry. In my defense, this relationship is pretty one sided. You should call more.

Now on to the topic of this blog post. What in the hell have I been up to? Since I am pregnant, I am limited to what I am able to do. So I have decided to try mt hand at ATC's. What are ATC's, you ask? Well...

Artist trading cards (or ATCs) are miniature works of art about the same size as modern baseball cards, or 2 ½ X 3 ½ inches (63 mm X 89 mm), small enough to fit inside standard card-collector pockets, sleeves or sheets. The ATC movement developed out of the mail art movement and has its origins in Switzerland. Cards are produced in various media, including dry media (pencils, pens, markers, etc.), wet media (watercolor, acrylic paints, etc.), paper media (in the form of collage, paper cuts, found objects, etc.) or even metals or cloth. The cards are usually traded or exchanged.

 I initially made five, but now I am not exactly sure how to trade them. I will post them here. They aren't really good. I used to be pretty decent at this kind of thing, but it's been over two years since I have lifted a paintbrush. So.....Enjoy.....

Oh, and HAPPY NEW YEAR!

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