tripperfunster

Here, have a holiday picture of Steve and his (unintentional and creepy) prosthetic hand. :D Funny how you don't notice these things until you go to post something, and then you just can't un-see it.

So many things have happened in the past couple of months (lost my job, found a new job, started my own (part-time) business.)

I will make the time to post about it soon. Promise!

Everything is good here, though. I hope things are well with all of you too.

Cheers,
Tripper

Well, gather 'round kids and pull up a chair, because it's time for my annual (semi-annual? Monthly?) family rant.

(  Cut for length )

Anyhow, that's it so far. I might have more after these impending visits. :D

Mr Snippets has chosen the thug life! :D

May/June has been amazing and terrifying and exhausting!

Hubby and I decided a few years ago that we wanted to live somewhere better warmer. We were in Central Canada (just above North Dakota) where the winters are cold and long and the summers are stupid hot and full of mosquitos. So after much wrangling and selling of our business of 17 years and our house of 12 years we bought a house ON AN ISLAND on the west coast of Canada.

Okay, the island is huge, Vancouver Island not some tropical sand paradise, but it is now my home!!!!! EEEEEE!

Nanaimo is SO GODDAMNED PRETTY, I can't even. But I"m getting ahead of myself, let me backtrack.

Last month, after much wrangling with buyers for our house, we flew to the west coast to find a house that we could afford. Not far from here, Vancouver (on the mainland) is the most expensive city in Canada, and one of the most expensive in the world. Needless to say, we could not afford to live there. We also could not afford to live NEAR there. :D

We have a little hobby farm, and 2+ acres even 100 kilometres from Vancouver (or VanCity as it's called) was way out of our budget. The island is much slower and somewhat cheaper and really, every bit as lovely, but with more of a small town (retirement) feel. Perfect!

We found a house that we LOVED with five acres and put an offer on it and GOT IT! Yay! There was still a month+ until we got possession, and the kids were still in school, but I started applying for jobs on the island. I even got a cell phone when we were out there, so I could put both a BC address AND phone number. (sneaky!)

We started packing, arranged for movers and animal transport for the horses and other assorted critters. My buddy Julie dacro who lives near VanCity offered to fly out to my place and help me drive across the county. I was going out early to get the house/yard ready for the animals and to hopefully find a job.

Two days before we were slated to start driving I got a call for a job interview! With a major airline for a Customer Service Agent. OMG!!! So great! Except that they needed me to be in Nanaimo in two days. Yikes! I really didn't want to tell them that I didn't live there yet and put the interview off, so I flew out on the Monday morning for the interview.

I rented a car, checked into my hotel, made myself PURDY, ironed my jacket (holy crap! I haven't wielded an iron since … well aside from crafts, in FOREVER!) One everything was perfect, I drove back to the airport to be interviewed. As I was turning into the parking lot from the highway, someone ran a red light going in the opposite direction and smashed into me.


Wow. I"ve never been in a serious accident before, and hopefully never will again. I don't know exactly how fast he was going, but the speed limit there was 90K/hr and he was rushing the red light, so I can only assume he was going faster. He hit my front passenger side and spun the car around 320 degrees.

My first thought was OH SHIT! There was the crunch of metal, the airbags exploding, the car spinning and then … nothing. My second thought was Holy fuck! My interview!

I grabbed my purse and my resume, kicked my door open and hobbled out of the car to see if the other people were okay. They were, mostly. A bit banged up and in shock, but fully conscious and able to get out of the car. A couple of witnesses stopped, the cops arrived, so did the ambulance and a passing physician. They wanted to check me out and take me to the hospital, but I was all "I have an interview in 10 minutes. I flew across the country to get here, and I'm not going to miss it!"

Long story short, I made it to the interview and I FUCKING ROCKED IT! :D Even covered with airbag fluff! I've never had one go off before, but they are full of little white fibres. It looked like a cat exploded on me. I had also started out with two barrettes in my hair, and I have no idea where they went, because I never did find them!

I had some pretty spectacular bruises (yanno, the kind, when you show someone, they cringe and hiss?) and it seems that I've torn my rotator cuff. ouch. I go for my first physio appointment tomorrow, but it seems that time is the only thing that will help that.

I don't like to think of myself as a pollyanna. I don't look at shitty situations and sing "yay! Cancer is fun!" But perception is everything, and I am actually super grateful for this accident. Grateful that I was able to walk away from it, with relatively minor injuries. Grateful that it wasn't my fault and no one got killed. And really? How fuckin' awesome did I look, crawling out of that wreck and walking 100 feet to my interview?

Talk about making an impression! The airline that I was applying for is notoriously hard to get into, and they really appreciate people who are creative and funny. Now, I think I'm pretty funny on a day to day basis, but when I am injected with 100% adrenaline? I am fucking HI-Larious! :D For reals. I have never been so 'on.' And clearly showed them that I can handle myself under stress.

I got the call this week that I probably got the job. Probably. … Someone there has applied to transfer to Toronto, and IF the transfer is approved, then I have the job. If I don't get it, it's not because of me, it's them. :D Yay!

Anyhoo, Julie and I DID manage to drive the 2000K across Canada with dog and tortoise in tow, and now I am here, all alone (except aforementioned dog and tortoise) in a big empty house, waiting for my family and my furniture to arrive. I spent the first few days in my old RV, waiting for possession, and since I still don't have a bed, I still sleep in it.

Here's a pic from the campground:
So funny! Those are propane tanks that someone has done an amazing job altering.

My neighbours at the campground were a super nice slightly older than me couple who invited me over for dinner and even helped me get my car and RV to the new house. My new neighbour at the house has a 250 acre Bison farm, and I'm told he even has a pair of eagles! This man will be my new BFF. :D

So, thus ends my radio silence. I hope my shoulder will be well enough to start drawing again soon. Even sitting at the counter typing is giving me some pain.
Here is a parting photo I took in the town next to mine. It's a super cute, charming little place, on a hill by the ocean. And then I saw this. I'm still not quite sure WTF.

I honestly cannot imagine the story behind it.

Comic Con was so/so. It was super busy. Tickets were sold out all weekend, which was nice, but my sales were much lower that crappy little Horror con here in Winnipeg.

I'm honestly not sure exactly why, but I was paying attention and picked up a few new things to try at the next con in Regina next month.

Just like the craft sales, there was no lack of people oohing and aahhing about how amazing my art was, how talented and patient I was, how original the concept was and how photorealistic they are. Then they would walk away without buying. I ended up lowering my prices to EVEN LOWER than I was selling the here, when I had really hoped to be able to raise the prices by a good amount.

I even had one of the guest comic artists visit my booth and tell me how amazing I was. *sigh* Well, better than people telling me all day that I suck. ;)

Anyhoo, one thing that I think I will add to my booth is the sale of prints. Having a lower price point might draw more people in. Ideally, they would be prints of some amazing paperstuff, but that will take a bunch of time, so instead I did one paper cut poster and thought I'd dredge up some art from the past.

So, which of these posters do you think you might be tempted to buy?




I gotta say, I'm proud of that Rick one, because it is 100% a paper cut! It looks like a digital print, but it's paper! I need to re-do the writing, it's a bit wonky, but I really like the way it turned out.

So things I learned: Engage the customer! One guy beside me had so-so art posters but sold tons of them because he never stopped talking. He compliments people's costumes, took photos of them and then offered them a 'discount' for taking the time to cosplay. Worked like a charm. I will totally steal this. :D

I also found that, aside from a couple of things on my table, my pictures were on a large stand behind me, and people would often walk right past and not even look. Lot of booths in artist alley had the merchandise on a stand ON the table, almost like the Peanuts "The Doctor is In' booth. Right in the customer's face and that seemed to work, so I will switch it up that way too.

Any other hints/trips/tricks are much appreciated.

EEEEE! I wanted to go to the Toronto Comic Con to sell my art, but it was sold out. I put my name on the waiting list, in case a table came up, and THEY CALLED TODAY TO TELL ME THAT I CAN GO! Wheee! Of course, I've been plodding along making paper cuts, but assuming I wouldn't be anywhere until Regina in April, so now I have to buckle down and cut cut cut!

Is anyone going to be in Toronto (or going to the con March 18, 19 and 20th?) I would love to see you! I won't have much time for socializing, as I'll be chained in Artists Alley, but please come and see me!!

Okay, not exactly a miracle, but good news!

The bad news first: A few months ago I was rejected from giving blood because my iron was too low. It wasn't CRAZY low, but low enough to not let me donate. No biggie. I've given blood dozens of times and never had a problem. I was sent away with the advice to eat more spinach and red meat and to try again in a few months.

Two months later I was at the doctor for a different ongoing but not important issue (thyroid) and she ordered blood tests to see how my thyroid numbers were. I asked her to check my iron, since I"d had that problem, so she did.

NOT GOOD. I forget the exact numbers, but it was basically, a regular hemoglobin number is 15 to 17 and you are a 7. yikes! She prescribed iron pills 3x per day plus the usual red meat and stuff.

Unfortunately, the iron pills made me super sick in a 'I might as well be taking exlax 3x per day' way. yuck! So I stopped taking them and ended up being sent to a specialist.

Of course, it takes a few months to get an appointment, so cue yesterday when I met the specialist. AND MY IRON IS JUST FINE NOW! Yay red meat! And my trusty cast-iron frying pan! I might need to check my cholesterol now instead! ;)

I told her that I was a bit disappointed, because I had hoped she might prescribe some sort of birth control that would stop my period. :D She sighed and said "OMG, no kidding! There should just be a switch you can turn on and off!" So she made an appointment for me with an OBGYN to see about getting something to lessen my periods, which would help with the iron. YAY!

Now excuse me, I have to go eat more red meat. :D

Last year, before my brother came out as transgendered (and was still a dude) I made him a paper cut of himself in his Canada Post uniform, as a surprise present for his birthday. He loved it. Like, went on and on about how much he loved it, which was really nice. Like most adults, he's pretty hard to buy gifts for, and we aren't very close, so that makes it even harder.

Fast forward to this year, and my now-sister asked if I would make a paper cut for her, and I agreed. I had actually thought that it would be nice to do a more updated one, but was waiting for her to be farther along in her transition before offering.

So a few weeks ago she texts me on my phone, a photo of a dog, two photos of cats, and a picture of some woman I don't know. Um, what? "Oh," she says, "can you do paper cuts of all of these?" Ha. No. I guess I didn't make the distinction of FOR her and OF her. She wanted me to basically make all of her Christmas presents for her, I guess? And since she has no eye for art, all of the pictures were shitty, cellphone pictures. Not focused, tops of heads cut off, etc. Not the kind of thing that you would make art from.

I told her I would make ONE for her, but that was it. Geez! Presumptuous much? She said she would pay me for my time and supplies, but she doesn't have a pot to piss in, so that would never happen.

Anyhoo, I told her to pick one subject and she went with the dog, which I assume belonged to a friend of hers, since she doesn't have a dog. Like I said, the photo was shit, so I searched the webz for a similar looking red wiener dog, and came up with a suitable candidate. I download it, do my photoshop magic to separate the layers of colour and print out the sheets with the individual layers for cutting. I was out of knives, so I went and bought some more, then went to bed.

Of course, in the morning, I get a text from her saying "Good morning, sis. If you haven't started the pic, don't worry about it."

I replied: "I have started it. What's up?"

"Don't need it anymore."

"Why?"

"Just don't."


facepalm. Cryptic much? I guess she had a fight with this person, but I was not going to waste my time begging her for details. Geez, it's like when people post to Facebook "Oh, I'm so upset right now." and nothing else. I FUCKING HATE THAT! Tell me what happened, or shut the fuck up!

Long story short, I had already done the not-fun legwork for the paper cut, so I finished it anyway. Does anyone know someone with a wiener dog? I'm willing to sell it extra cheap, since *I* don't have one! :D

And it was a DOOZEY!


We went to the art gallery today, and as usual, I was ALL CLASS, BABY!

But seriously! There was a giant fucking ugly newborn baby there the size of a sperm whale.

My brother came out recently as transgendered, and I'm not sure how I feel about it.
Of course, I support him(now her) and for the most part respect her decision to do this, I just can't help feeling that it's just not right.

And I don't mean that being transgendered isn't right, just that MY brother being transgendered isn't right. (and looking backwards, I will use 'he' because he was a he back then, and going forward I will use 'she' just fyi).

While growing up, I never pegged him as trans, or gay or anything that wasn't cis hetero. He is 3.5 years older than me and while we weren't close, we certainly spent a fair amount of time together, watching tv, playing in the back yard and fighting like cats and dogs on family car trips. He was a pretty typical boy in every way. He played with army figures, made military models, was a boy scout, played with toy cars and was generally the bane of my existence as brothers can be.

He showed little to no interest in my friends or my toys or dolls. Granted, I didn't play much with dolls, but I had barbies and toy horses and other more typically 'girly' things, and I never saw him even glance their way. He was more interested in G.I. Joes and slinkys and blowing things up with fire crackers.

He loved epic fantasy war stories like Shogun and Lord of the Rings and as a teenager played a lot of Dungeons and Dragons with his friends. He watched shows like Dr. Who (the old ones) and Gunsmoke and TOS Star Trek and listened to The Who and Genesis and Pink Floyd.

When I was 14 and became obsessed with The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and my friends and I would dress up and go to the midnight showings he never wanted to join us and seemed to have no interested whatsoever in a film about a transexual transvestite from Transalvania. And although he did mostly 'man' things his whole life, it didn't seem over the top. He wasn't Gaston, decorating with antlers and bedding women to compensate for his lack of mannishness.

Even though he was older than me, he was a bit socially awkward (see Dungeons and Dragons above), and I tended to be the trendsetter when it came to dating, drinking, sex and drugs. Not that he didn't have friends, he certainly did, but he was always a bit of a loveable loser. He was the guy that would drink too much and profess his love to everyone, then maybe get angry and start a fight, and then regret it and have a good drunken cry. He was different, and a bit of a dork, but people kept him around because he was generally a good person.

He was different though. I did't realize it at the time, because my family doesn't talk about this shit, but he was bipolar. (or manic depressive, as they called it then.) He attempted suicide a few times before the age of 20. I have quite a few memories of him setting completely unrealistic goals for himself (I'm going to get all A's in school! I'm going to be the best _______ (scout/employee/son/boyfriend) ever!) And, of course, when these lofty goals could not be met, he would spiral into a depression and would berate himself for even trying in the first place.

He also makes mind bogglingly stupid decisions that clearly will NOT work out for him, but seems helpless to stop himself.

a) He has the same legal name as our father, and got a credit card (and they clearly thought he was my dad) and then used the card to take out $10K in cash advances which he wasted on drugs and god only knows what else. He eventually had to call my parents to help him out, because not only was Visa going to prosecute him for non-payment, but he also owed his drug dealer/landlord another $10K.

b)His wife left him for her ex-husband and he went and got her name tattooed on his arm. *heddesk*

c)Once, not long after he moved back home after the Visa card/drug dealer scenario, he decided he wanted to go back to school to learn a trade. (I"m not sure for what.) Anyhoo, after setting himself unrealistic goals for grades, he decided to drop out, but NOT TELL MY PARENTS. So he continued to get up every day and PRETEND to go to school. For reals. He is the person, when you're watching character in a movie make stupid bone-headed decisions, and you say "Who the fuck is that stupid?" My brother is. He really is.

Which brings me to my dilemma. I want him to be happy. I want him to NOT want to kill himself. (he has probably had 6 episodes in the past 20 years.) I WANT him to be right about this, but I just don't feel it. I worry that he's latched onto this idea because he is desperate to figure out what is wrong with him, and when/if this ISN'T what is problem is, he's going to really crash and burn, and this would be a VERY difficult thing to say "whoops, I thought I was trans, but I'm really not."

Of course, he might be totally right about this. He says that he's felt this way for a very long time. I WANT it to be right for him, but I'm also terrified that the inevitable rejection and persecution that he's going to receive as a person who will probably never 'pass' for a woman will kill him. Literally. For someone who is so psychologically fragile, this seems like a sure-fire way to get hurt.

I just wish it rang more true for me. I mean, clearly, it doesn't really matter if I'm right or wrong, it only matters that ze is.

I'll keep you all updated, if you're interested.