I'm gonna quit my job and move to New York, Tattoo my body with every Broadway show...

Broadway here I come baby! In a little over a week Amy and I am going to be living in luxury checking out Times Square. It'll only be for two days, but it counts! We will be celebrating the demise of my youth and innocence aka my birthday :p, not a huge fan of that whole aging thing, but I'm a fan of any excuse to pack up and go to New York, it simply is not done enough! I swear I am working on my Wonderland project, I'm having contextual images dealing with the crow in the Tweedledee&dum sequence. I have a GOOD idea about what I want to do, but it's one of those things that though it would make sense to ME does not mean it won't be completely ambiguous to all others...I have a habit of making anything that is specific to me completely vague to everyone else. This is a habit I've made up that is not particularly healthy or helpful at all but I just broke the habit of biting my nails...baby steps.

I further discovered this in my Playwrighting class today. We had to freewrite about something specific to us and then read it for the rest of the class. My writing was not even embarassing or painful or anything to be ashamed of but I really HATED presenting it. I just don't think my life is anything that I want to share with others. She says as she types on her blog. To be fair though my readership seems to be fairly contained and generally I don't get anybody on here unless I tell them to check out my latest comics which is fine. And there's something about writing about my life versus getting up and talking about it. Writing is fine, it implies distance...sharing not-so-much. I'm one of those kids that if I were to go to a therapist I would end up sitting there in silence and rearranging their books into Alpha by Author, my life, my stories, they're mine. I don't even want to particularly want to be a part of them. It's why I delve into fiction, throw myself into plays, someone else's life, someone else's story is so much more comfortable, so much more...exciting. This might imply that I perhaps dislike my life, I don't, I'm rather attached at this point. I'm just a fan of privacy, but I suppose if I'm gonna do this project the way I think it needs to be done then I suppose I should get over that, right?

Yesterday I found out that my birth mom was blonde. I never knew that. Took me 20 years to ask about her. Martin asks if I asked about anything else? I didn't. That one was hard enough. I'm not even sure how I feel about it. Sad, I guess. I always had this picture in my head about my birth mom looking like me. It was a little comforting, thinking that at least there was one person out there who I looked like. Someone who would knows what it's like to have curly dark dragon hair, someone that if we were out together they would say we looked alike, that they could see the resemblance. I've always been so jealous of families that have about 6 kids and you can just tell the relation between each other. It's a weird thing I guess, to be jealous of. But everyone wants to feel like they belong somewhere, even if it is just in your family. All of my cousins look different from each other, but you can tell they're related, the blonde hair, the fire-beards. My sibs and I have always looked significantly different from each other, I mean that makes sense with the givens. It could be worse, it could be a lot worse, it's just another part of consideration. We'll see how that factors in...