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Not gonna lie. Sometimes I get burned out on being at the leading edge of creation. -.-

"What? You, a life coach and everything? Say it ain't so!" I know, crazy, right?

I mean, I've been making some amazing strides in clearing out old blocks, smoothing out the rough edges of my personality, and weeding out ways of being that don't serve me. But it has been a ton of work and has not yet completely translated into putting food on the table.

I was already wrestling with the fact that so many of my goals and motivations have recently been coming from a place of avoidance rather than desire, and trying to shift that piece into a more powerful place. And then, last week, the flu shot made me sick.

As of today, I am mostly recovered from that, but dang, I'm still exhausted. I need some time off from creating new realities, from declaring and fulfilling, and from personal growth spurts. I need some time where I'm receiving, consuming, and taking it easy. In short, I need a vacation.

The hard part is reconciling that with the income piece. Money keeps jumping out from behind things and yelling "Boo!" and it's hard to relax while watching those life savings dwindle. On the other hand, in my current burned-out state it's hard to muster up the motivation to go DO something about it. I look at finding some kind of day job, and go "meh." I stare at stacks of business cards to do cold calls, and go "meh."

So... yeah. Sometimes even Princess Poppy [1] gets worn out. It happens to the best of us.

But I'll find a way through it. I've been excited and inspired before, and I know I can get there again. I'm just taking a moment to acknowledge where I am rather than pretending it doesn't exist. The next step, is doing something about it.

[1] As I've been dubbed by Zia and Sirfox.
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I've been re-listening to Jen Sincero's You Are a Badass and You Are a Badass at Making Money on my rides to and from Barnes and Noble, and one of the things she talks about is your relationship with money, as evidenced by the things you say about it. And there's no denying that I grew up getting all kinds of messed-up messages about money from my parents.

Idea the First: I Can't Have Nice Things... )
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I have started to notice a strange phenomenon, which is that I have a bunch of things I want and/or intend to do with my day, and yet somehow, sitting down to work on them becomes a direct route to not getting anything done.

Case in point: today. My bullet journal for today has the following entries:

  • Don commission

  • B&N website/time tracking app

  • New! Improved! Plan for 2018/visualization journal
    • House
    • Work
    • Money
    • Exercise
    • Books
    • (Badass Book for ref?)

  • NNWM

  • Writing blocks/limiting beliefs

  • Fanservice art ;P

  • Groceries

  • Laundry


Granted, this is a lot of stuff, and I certainly didn't expect to finish it all today. But I also didn't get anywhere near as far into it as I expected. Here's what I've actually accomplished from this list:​

  • Messed w/ B&N site/tracking stuff, only to have it fail. Maybe my employment stuff isn't in the system yet?

  • A very pokey and uninspired Plan for 2018, because every time I tried to write on it my brain just went all fuzzy and I couldn't focus.

  • Groceries.

  • This post is kinda/sorta the writing blocks/limiting beliefs item. At least I'm starting to look at the issue.


Why did this happen? I don't know. I was all gung-ho and high energy all morning and for large chunks of the afternoon, and that energy was spent mostly working on edits/tweaks of the SJ Volume One Trade (which, you'll notice, was not on this list, because it came in from FurPlanet overnight). Still, that's a major project and needed to get done so that FurPlanet could have the books in production in time to be on hand for MFF. So I don't resent working on that.

I got the Volume One stuff done, and was eagerly working on ideas for what I would draw as soon as I got home from dinner.

After dinner... blugh. Everything resembling productivity just stopped. My B&N administrivia attempts ran into walls. My Plan for 2018, which I was super-stoked to write after re-listening to You Are a Badass, just turned into a vague cloud of mush and wore me out. As for art... no way. All energy was gone.

Maybe it was the burger? I love flame-broiled burgers but only let myself have them once or twice a month at most because they're huge health-bombs (not to mention all the environmental problems associated with beef); but it could be that such a heavy dinner sent me into a food coma.

But there's also the problem that I sometimes seem to associate this desk with, well, not getting anywhere on stuff. All of the times I've wrangled in creative frustration with Rough Housing, or stared at the outlines for By Elves Abandoned or Child of the Tower and completely failed to have a story spring forth, have happened at this desk. Many of my most successful writing sessions, by contrast, have happened at Starbucks or similar places.

But at the same time, every page of Rough Housing ever drawn, was drawn at this desk, including the issue six cover I love so much. And I have in the past managed some pretty damn impressive writing spurts here, so I know it can be done. That doesn't alter the fact, however, that headspace is a major thing for creative work, and once a place takes on a certain meaning in your mind, that meaning can come to define your interactions there.

The last thing in the world that I want, is for my desk to become the place where it is hardest for me to work. -.-

Part of the problem, I suspect, is that I spend the vast majority of my time here. Writing? At my desk. Drawing? At my desk. Doofing around in the internet? At my desk. Watching anime? At my desk.

Since we're moving in JUST NINE DAYS (*flail!*) I need to address this in my new workspace. I want my drawing table to be for DRAWING. I want my writing space to be for WRITING. I want the "everything else" place to be... SOMEWHERE ELSE.

Downside of that, of course, is that I do everything on the same computer. >.> To do different work in different places, I must have a) different places, and b) either a different computer in each place, or easy portability.

My writing has to be done on a laptop, so that I can easily bugger off to Starbucks or wherever when I need to get away from the cats or whatever else might be distracting me at home. Currently, my art is also done on the same laptop, and it's not real easy to just unplug it and go, because I have so many peripherals plugged in (including a backup drive that gives me nastygrams if I just unplug it without "ejecting" first).

However, I also have this really nice, beefy PC that a certain TwitterPonies fan gifted me with, now living without a purpose since I gave Overwatch the heave-ho. So one possibility would be to migrate my art (and backup drives and printers etc.) to that machine, leaving my lappy free to come and go at will.

The other option would be to pick up something else dedicated to doing my writing on. I originally bought a Macbook Air for that purpose, but when I decided I needed a new art computer, chose the Macbook Pro to do double duty. Laurie has the Air now as her computer.

I dunno! I'll figure it out. The whole issue of desk layout might be a red herring, considering how eager my brain seems to be to send me off in the wrong direction all the time. I am trying to carefully observe my habits and behavior to find patterns, however. Every aptitude test or career-search program in the world tells me the same thing over and over again: GO WRITE YOUNG MAN, so why does being at home with a flexible schedule and leave me so often staring into space instead of, you know, DOING WHAT I'M MEANT TO BE DOING WITH MY LIFE, and frustrated with it to boot?

I've already talked some about my tendency to go into denial whenever anything becomes the slightest bit painful. This issue of having difficulty writing, when it's clearly what I was made for, is related somehow I think. My ego and my deeper self, whatever that may be, have extended relationship problems that I both need and want to overcome.

Anyway, that's enough rambling about this tonight, I think. I need to get some sleep now, so that tomorrow I can get up in the morning, slap on headphones, and get as much stuff done as possible before schlepping myself off to the job. But that's also part of the reason why I wanted a day job: to give myself deadlines. If it doesn't happen before 2:00, it's not going to happen tomorrow.

(It's nuts. Having an external schedule to adhere to stresses me like crazy and makes me frustrated that I'm not getting my art/writing/etc. done. So theoretically NOT having an external schedule should be awesome because I can do that stuff instead! So why, why, why, oh neurotic brain, do you decide that it just means I can fluff off forever instead? Bonkers.)

Feh.

-The Gneech
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Sleep has been on the weird side for me generally, lately, which is probably related to a combination of all the big changes going on, and the seasonal shift. I don't sleep as well in the summer, so when the weather finally cools off, I tend to spend at least the first few nights crashing like Skylab.

Halloween night, I was crashing in my chair by 9:30 but stuck it out until later for Nightmare Night with the TwitterPonies. The net result was I went to bed exhausted, slept the night exhausted, and woke up exhausted, and all day yesterday I was dragging along, so I decided to go to bed early.

...which apparently caused me to wake up at 3:30 in the morning. -.- I came downstairs and puttered around on various minor things until I was tired enough to go back to bed (7:30), and then wrestled with stressy dreams for three hours and got back up.

It's now the middle of the day, I feel like it's 9 a.m., and I'm still exhausted. Ugh. :P Hopefully lunch and maybe a walk outside will shake all that junk out of my head and I can have a nicely productive afternoon.

But enough of that pain! Here's Wayne Brady and Postmodern Jukebox doing an awesome cover of Michael Jackson's "Thriller."


You're welcome. I got it from Nerdist.
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736 words today, less than half the 1,667/day rate that will hit 50k by November 30. But I tend to snowball over time once a project gets started, so I'm not worried about that. I went to bed crazy tired last night, which led to one of those "sleep so hard it beats you up" nights and was groggy all day. Gonna get better sleep tonight and crank away on it tomorrow.

Also, inspired in no small part by [personal profile] mooncat_chelion, I'm going to make an effort to post more regularly here as part of the whole NaNo thing. I used to be pretty darn chatty on LiveJournal, and would love to see DreamWidth build more community as well.

Some of the "long form discussion" I crave and miss, I can find on Tumblr, but the problem there is that the format makes it hard to follow any given thread. Posts appear, get re-posted as comments are put on them, or re-re-posted by other people you follow, and so on, and in short order the conversation is either completely fragmented, or lost in the noise as Tumblr tosses up another reblog of another different discussion, ad infinitum.

In the past several years I've been more in the reblog/retweet mode than original posting mode as well, for a variety of reasons, but mostly because I spent so much of the time from 2009/2010 forward dealing with ailing/dying parents, ailing/dying friends, financial problems, and a long list of other things that I really just didn't want to write about because my journal would have been little more than a long list of laments. But as weird as it may sound with the current state of the nation et al., on a personal level I feel like I've finally emerged from a dark tunnel and things are starting to improve for me... and I expect that continue and accelerate from here.

Hopefully that will open up the creative floodgates and let my muse return to the surface. Grief takes a shit-ton of energy that could be way better put towards writing Fictionlets, blathering about anything and everything I find interesting, or coming up with stupid filks.

So instead of multi-post Twitter threads, long rambles on Tumblr, and so on, I'm going to try to cement my habit of posting here, and I'm going to keep looking for cool and interesting people and communities on DreamWidth to follow. :)

Now... to see if I can figure out how to add RSS feeds to my Reading page...

-The Gneech



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Sorry, My Give-A-Damn is Broken
So the thing with the rebel tendency, at least for me, is that I am motivated by desire. That is to say, I have to want something in order to make it happen– which is why grief and depression are my kryptonite. Depression makes it hard to take pleasure in anything, and grief makes it hard to be willing to engage in things you like because you don't want to risk facing the pain of loss again.

But I can't just spend my life wandering an emotional wasteland like Hipster Percival. Besides the fact that we live in a pay-to-play society, there's a more primal factor in that I need to be creating in order to be happy. But attempting to create when my heart isn't in it, true to rebel nature, is just an exercise in frustration and resistance.

This creates a kind of feedback loop– I have to be happy enough to get excited about what I want to create, in order to do the creating that will make me happy.

It's kinda like a fusion reaction: once the cycle is up and running, it's nicely self-sustaining, but if something comes along and stops it (or it runs out of fuel), it takes a vast amount of external energy to get it started back up again.

Which is roughly where I am emotionally at the moment. I need to restart my emotional pilot light– what I refer to as my Give-A-Damn. When you hear about artists wailing to the muses for inspiration, same deal. Some writers sneer at this notion, saying that "real writers write whether they feel like it or not." I would argue that those writers have probably never had to really deal with a broken Give-A-Damn, and have no idea how debilitating it actually is.

(They may also be hacks; but that varies wildly from writer to writer.)

There is some truth to the adage that once you start moving, the energy and enthusiasm will come, but it isn't an absolute. Sometimes "shut up and write" works, sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes, a mental vacation is what's needed. Other times, you need to actually get inspiration from a new experience or from some great piece of work that's new to you.

So far, my Give-A-Damn has been very stubborn about not letting itself be fixed– but I am more stubborn than it is.

-The Gneech
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Feel like crap for no good reason today. Trying to grind through because there's a lot of stuff I want to get done and there will always be things trying to prevent me from doing them, so when those things are my own internal bad wiring I can at least say "no" to that.

Through a roundabout path I recently happened upon Gretchen Rubin's concept of "four tendencies" and discovered that, true to form, I have the rarest and most problematic tendency, that of "rebel." The tendencies are based on how you respond to expectations, whether internal or external.

  • Upholders respond strongly to both internal and external expectations. They tend to be sticklers for the rules, but also self-motivated and with a moral code that can override the outer laws and traditions of the world around them. Hermione Granger is listed as an archetypal upholder; I'm not sure if I actually know any personally.


  • Questioners respond strongly to internal expectations, but not so much to external ones. They always want a satisfactory explanation for anything– if they don't think there's a valid reason to follow a rule or complete a project, they won't. [personal profile] laurierobey falls into this category. I suspect Sirfox is as well, but it's harder to tell.


  • Obligers respond strongly to external expectations, but not so much to internal ones. These are people who can stick to an exercise regimen if they've got a buddy or a class, but will immediately stop as soon as nobody's "checking up" on them. Sandy Rathbun was in this group, and I suspect so was Mammallamadevil.


  • Rebels do not respond well to external or internal expectations. They can be summarized as "You can't tell me what to do– and I can't tell me what to do either." Once they decide they want to do something, there's no stopping them, but until they want to do something, you can expect them to resist with all they've got. That includes things they decided a month ago that they wanted to do, but that they don't want to do right now, which can lead them to be just as frustrating to themselves as they are to the people around them. Like I say, I am a rebel. So is Hantamouse, which is simultaneously why the two of us get along and why the two of us fight.


There's a lot more to the framework than just this, and it's also just a tool, not some magical solution to figuring out personality quirks and interactions and things. But within the framework, I think there's some interesting insights.

I was at a presentation by Ms. Rubin, and I tried to ask (but didn't get called on), "If a rebel instinctively says 'no' to any expectation, even their own, how are they supposed to keep from eventually sliding into a Bartleby-esque catatonic state of just never wanting to do anything?" I hoped that her book might have an answer for that question, but I have since discovered that... no, not really. The book had very simplistic reverse-psychology suggestions along the lines of "I bet you can't lose 20 pounds in ten weeks!" Seriously? What am I, seven?

But this is a problem that I have found myself facing over the past few years since being effectively self-employed. I used to hate my day job fiercely, and come home to work on my writing/art/etc. with the zeal of a workaholic because it was what I wanted to do. Now, the writing/art/etc. is my day job, but instead of being energized and excited and kicking ass, I am now fighting with the constant desire to sleep all day or play video games or whatever else instead.

A devotee of the four tendencies would say that's my rebel nature, and it may very well be. But that just puts a label on it, it doesn't actually give me any tools to combat the problem.

I have contemplated going back to a day job just to give me something to channel my resentment back into other than my own work. But as I get older, I don't have the endurance I used to. That Starbucks job I had in late 2015 was only part time and still left me feeling dead most of the time. I can only imagine how wrecked I would be trying to go back to 40 hours of writing code or something similar at 6 am in the friggin' morning. I can't deny the pay would be better, but if it left me too tired to do my real work, it would be literally selling my soul.

I know that I am motivated by desire. Everything I've accomplished was because there was something I wanted to happen. I created Suburban Jungle because I wanted there to be a comic like Suburban Jungle for me to read. I wrote Sky Pirates of Calypsitania because I wanted to read a book like Sky Pirates of Calypsitania. But right now I'm in a mental and emotional spot where desire is hard to come by. Grief has damaged my ability to feel enthusiasm. Frustration has damaged my ability to feel hope.

So right now, I am operating on almost 100% pure stubbornness. Which is frankly exhausting. So I guess on reflection it's not quite so random a blugh, nor quite a case of feeling like crap for no good reason. I'm fatigued.

-The Gneech
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The devs working on my life have apparently gotten stuck on what's supposed to happen next, because I've been stuck grinding this same level for a year now.

It wouldn't be entirely accurate to say that no progress is being made: I'll soon have another issue of the comic out the door, and a new project officially launches on Monday. I am back down below 300 lbs and continuing to improve on that front. But the "waiting for _______ to get here" theme that has been a defining element of my life for way too much forever, is still there, and I am honestly pretty sick of it.

After conferring with all affected parties, California is waiting on the appearance of a job. To that end, I've been sending off applications, an average of 4-6 a week, and I have had some interviews, but the net result keeps being "We want someone with more formal experience." A story that I had thought was sold came back when the anthology it was sold to got cancelled; I immediately sent it off to another another anthology, but it was declined. I have received polite no-thank-you's from almost all the agents I sent the Sky Pirates book to, and the remaining ones I don't expect to hear from, meaning that to carry that any further, I'm going to have to go back to square one and find a whole new batch of agents to send it to... or write another book.

In LoA circles, the general advice is to act as if you've already got what you want, and life will arrange itself accordingly. So I've been trying to figure out: okay, if I could snap my fingers and just have the life I wanted today, what would actually be different? How would Fully Actualized Gneech in California look and act differently from Grinding Gneech in Maryland? What is it that I picture being different?

Unfortunately, the answer all seems to be in externalities. Sunnier days, being closer to the beach and being more active outside generally, more of my friends in one localized area, that kind of thing. But when I think about what's actually bugging me right now, it's mostly concerns about finances, worry about the piss-poor state of the country and the broken climate, and feeling isolated. The finances and the isolation I could theoretically fix here by finding a local job (and/or selling some friggin' books) and using Meetup.com to find some clubs or a gaming group or something. The country and the climate are larger, long-term problems that are going to be problems anywhere. I have been avoiding digging in locally because I don't want to have to dig back out whenever the theoretical California job appears... but that leaves me floating in limbo.

Honestly, if I could get around the money problem, the rest would fall naturally into place. Drawing comics and writing books are things I naturally do, those are my "vocation." Turning them into a source of comfortable income is the place where I always run into trouble. It was fine when [personal profile] laurie_robey was bringing in sufficient income for the both of us, but that isn't the case any more and we have to deal with that.

I think I need to go back and do a refresher on what I actually want my life to be like, the proverbial "ideal day" exercise, and do a little compare/contrast to figure out how it's different from my actual not-so-ideal life and why. Then I can refocus on concrete ways to move from the one, to the other.

-The Gneech
the_gneech: (Default)
THIS JUST IN:

  1. Otter had delicious tuna for lunch. :d

  2. Otter had delicious pineapple for snack. :d

  3. Otter is happy.

  4. Otter would be happier with 60º and sunshine, but otter will take what he can get.


That is all for now. Further bulletins as events warrant.

-The Gneech
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This is sort of a continuation/expansion of my 2016 Report, based on some things I've noticed and/or thought about over the past few days.

There seem to be two basic ways people are approaching 2017 in their minds.

Version One:
"I'm gonna kick 2016 in the balls, shove it down the stairs, and run over its corpse with a bulldozer. Then 2017 will be the most AWESOME YEAR EVAR!!!!1!"


Version Two:
Everyone: "2016 was the worst year ever. It couldn't possibly be worse!"
2017: "Hold my beer."


It seems to me that both of these approaches have the same core problem, which is deciding beforehand what the result is going to be. And honestly, the former strikes me as being an overcompensatory attempt to preclude the latter– that is, people are afraid it's just gonna suck even worse, so they are shouting "LA LA LA IT'S GOING TO BE AWESOME" to counter it. The problem with that, of course, is that if it does suck, you're going to be all the more disappointed, whereas if you assume it's going to suck, you at least have the cold comfort of having been right.

Yay?

I don't advocate either of these views. 2017, just like 2016 before it, is an arbitrary unit– a creation of our own minds, mutually agreed on. The universe doesn't care if our calendar ticks off another round or not, it just keeps on doing what it does without start or end. A new year only has as much meaning as we assign to it. If we weren't tracking the passage of years, we wouldn't know that "2016 sucked," all we would know is that a bunch of shit happened.

We don't know what tomorrow (or any other measurement of time) will bring. Even the best, most informed prognosticators can only make educated guesses. Humans have an amazing knack of convincing themselves that if yesterday was sunny, and the day before was sunny, then it must mean that every day will always be sunny forever and that we're going to have a never-ending beach party before we all die of thirst.

The future will have flying cars and jetpacks. Why would you want a camera on your phone anyway?

I don't know what 2017 will be like, and my friend, you don't either. Blanket statements of "fact" that 2017 will be the awesomest, or even worse, say more about your beliefs and intent than they do about anything that manifestly exists in the "real" world.

There is certainly reason for hope: the general historical trend is for the world to get better over time. But that's not a guarantee, it's just a trend. There are lots of different ways the future could play out, and if we allow things to go to crap we could very well end up in the darkest timeline.

But that's where intention and action come in. If you want things to be better, you need to help shove the boulder of the world in a better direction– in whatever form that takes. Assuming that the result is predestined, for good or ill, shouldn't be allowed to be an excuse for inaction. In the words of Gandalf, "Surely you don’t disbelieve the prophecies, because you had a hand in bringing them about yourself?"

Or to put it another way, if you don't take a hand in bringing about the awesome future you're hoping for, how is it supposed to get here?

The future will be better because we will fight to make it so.

-The Gneech
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Assuming no unseen glitches, my [mumble] years of LiveJournal entries and the associated comments have been imported to Dreamwidth. The first thing I notice is that all the embeds are broken, so all those bazillion YouTube videos now just have an error code up instead.

Oops.

It could be worse; it's rare that I go back and re-watch a video after a week or so anyway, and a lot of the oldest ones fall off of YouTube after a while as it is. If I really want a video in my new journal ("in my Dreamwidth" doesn't roll off the tongue the way "in my LiveJournal" does, alas), I'll look it up and post it again.

There are other wonky bits that I'll need to figure out. There isn't any Twitter integration, for instance, and I kinda depend on Twitter to get the word out about my posts. And of course, the low traffic problem of LJ is doubled by Dreamwidth's "LJ backup option" status. I've found a number of people I follow on LJ here, only to see that all they posted was a "Setting up a Dreamwidth account!" post and nothing else. XD

Oh well, guilty. ^.^'

But I'm going to keep poking around, find some communities to follow and settings to tweak, and so on. We'll work it out!

-The Gneech

Kimmie

Dec. 15th, 2016 11:21 pm
the_gneech: (Mad Red)
There are a wide variety of people who I've been in the same room with a lot but never really spent much time with, and [livejournal.com profile] jamesbarrett's sister Kim ("Kimmie" in the local parlance) is such a person. I met her in high school, something like 1983-1984, but our circles never really intersected much, and my memories of her over the years are mostly vague impressions.

Fast forward to the present, where she's been staying in an extended visit with Jamie and [livejournal.com profile] hantamouse for the past few months but again, when [livejournal.com profile] lythandra and I were there as more of a ghost that we heard about than anything else. But that changed tonight, when Laurie and I finally got over there to visit at a time when Kimmie was also home. We hung out, we played cards, we chatted about this, that, and the other thing.

It was cool. I think Kim and I spoke more in this one evening than we had over the previous 30 years combined, and I finally have a person to connect with the name. She told us that she was a psychic medium (something I was not aware of until now) doing what she called "energy work." She also informed me that I have an indigo aura.

Indigo aura personalities are creative individuals who inspire awareness, sensibility and integrity. Indigos are deeply influenced by their inner knowing. They are dynamic souls who assert their morality to promote teaching respect for all life.


...Works for me!

We also chatted a little about reincarnation and law of attraction stuff, and in the midst of conversation Laurie pegged her as an INFP, the two of them recognizing kindred spirits in each other.

Like I say, it was cool. We exchanged e-mails and I'm hoping we can keep in touch in the future. It's nice, after all these years, to finally feel like I know this mysterious figure who's been lurking in the wings, at least a little.

-The Gneech
the_gneech: (Torey Rave)
There are quantum levels of sweat, and you can sometimes tell the state of your health and activity level by which ones you find yourself falling into.

  1. Passive Sweat. This is your basic temperature-regulating perspiration. Unless it's particularly warm, you won't even notice it, but it is the reason you need to do laundry. Passive sweat is always there.


  2. Hot In Here Sweat. You're not moving, but your body is warm anyway. Passive Sweat gets less passive. It won't help, but your body doesn't know that.


  3. Working (Up a) Sweat. Climbing stairs or carrying heavy groceries, this level is pretty much Passive Sweat kicked up a notch. If you push hard enough, this will kick up again to the next level.


  4. Deep Sweat. When your body starts running out of pure(-ish) water to ooze out, other things start getting mixed in, such as ammonia, urea, salt, and sugar. This is the point at which people prone to saying such things enthuse about workouts "purging toxins." Yes, it is true, but going to the bathroom does it too. Passive Sweat will make your laundry whiffy later because bacteria starts to grow in it, but Deep Sweat is already stinky when it comes out.


  5. Now THAT'S Sweat. When you hit the point above and keeep oonnn gooingg you get to the really deep stuff. When you're drenched, and exhausted, and still going, your body starts squeezing out everything it can find. Besides just cleaning out whatever junk might be floating around in your system, your body starts using up chemicals it normally prefers to have on hand for other things. This is why Gatorade is a thing.


The more often you get to the "Deep Sweat" level, at least in theory, the more "toxins" and things get flushed out. A lot of people have the idea that fat burning is going on here, and it is to some extent, but it's not like fat turns into sweat and oozes out your pores. In point of fact, most burned fat converts into carbon dioxide and you just breathe it out (which is another point in favor of aerobics/cardio). Most of the rest is converted into water which... okay, fair enough, you either sweat out or flush down the toilet. But not right then while you're doing jumping jacks! The process takes time.

The other good thing about getting to the "Deep Sweat" level is that's when post-workout endorphins start showing up. If you've heard of a "runner's high," or even just been pumped after a good workout, this is what you're getting. Exercise, especially tough workouts, can be addictive, and if you're going to be addicted to something, it's a really good choice.

So far I have hit Deep Sweat level every day this week. I'm diggin' it. ;)

-The Gneech
the_gneech: (Gneechtoon)
Okay. I need to get myself together here, as I've been sorta scattered lately. So here we go.

  1. Contact Jacky Paisley

  2. Deposit checks

  3. Resolve insurance

  4. Pick up prescriptions

  5. RH Bonus Stuff

  6. PotG badges to Patreon?

  7. Lia commish

  8. Sky Pirates agent pitches, round three

  9. Redliox potg badge

  10. Gryphon_2 potg badge (need refs!)

  11. Welof potg badge

  12. Loupy potg badge

  13. Script for issue five

  14. Mail Kamau's power cord

  15. FurPlanet commish

  16. Sky Pirates 2 outline

  17. Record footage for "Learning Not to Suck at Overwatch"

  18. Clean up gneech.com bibliography, about page, and categories

  19. Clean sinks


That should keep me busy for at least the afternoon. ¬.¬

-The Gneech
the_gneech: (I.T. Crowd FAIL!)
Not going to have cable until Thursday earliest, and running on fumes datawise for hotspottery, so we're at a Starbucks trying desperately to get some internetting done. Unfortunately, the wi-fi here is

roughly

like

being

at the DMV

operated

by

sloths.

Siiiiiigh.

-The Gneech at 9600 baud.
the_gneech: (Leonard machismo)
I (almost) singlehandedly assembled three pieces of furniture today. I feel so macho! Now to go eat some steak.

-The Gneech
the_gneech: (I.T. Crowd FAIL!)
So a phenomenon has emerged recently, of the Pop Up Whining About Your Ad-Blocker. Sites such as Wired.com, TheMarySue, and probably dozens of others I just don't go to, if they can't serve ads at you, shove a giant "PLEASE SUBSCRIBE OR TURN OFF YOUR BLOCKER!" message in your face.

They're perfectly within their rights to do so. And I can't speak for anyone else, but my choice will almost always be, "I don't want to look at your site that badly."

"But! Moneys!" scream the website owners. "Hosting is expensive!" etc. Well, yes. I understand that. But you know what? I don't care.

Sometime during (or leading up to) the dot-com boom I remember seeing an ad for some corporation trying to market to middle managers, which had graphic design like a merchant bank and the header, "Finally, the web is good for more than UFO theories and pictures of cats."

My reaction then is the same as my reaction now: FUCK. YOU.

UFO theories and pictures of cats is what I want from the internet. Personal blogs, dorky little vines, silly memes? That's what the web is good for. The world needs another stream of commerce like I need another hole in my head. People making connections? That's what the world needs.

So people not being able to make money on the internet? That's all to the good. I want money out of the internet as much as possible, the same way I want it out of roleplaying games and conventions and universities and libraries and public TV and almost every other thing really worth doing. The relentless drive to prioritize short-term profit over doing the core thing that you're about has destroyed everything it ever touched.

The current crop of websites flailing around trying to block the ad-blockers may be a harbinger of the collapse of "Big Website," which would mean a lot of potentially-good content might be lost. On the other hand, it also means that a lot of clickbait garbage will also be lost, and I can live with that. I was perfectly content with grunky mostly-text webpages and very, very personal blogs. I have absolutely no problem with the internet being the realm of the hobbyist, now and forever.

-The Gneech
the_gneech: (It's a Lion)
So, this is something I've been quietly contemplating for years now. And I think it's pretty clear with the release of Rough Housing that it's just going to become more visible as time goes on. Today, I posted to Twitter:

"I have a confession to make. I’ve tried to hide it long enough. The truth is, I’m 1/4 otter on my mother’s side.

I shall now honor my ancestors by consuming some delicious tuna."

Mind you, it was just a silly tweet. However, my followers all seemed to agree!

@CityFlyer502: "That otter please them. :D"

@GalloViking: "Have you hidden otter things from us?"

I followed up with:

"Kidding aside, in the world of furry phenotypes, I’ve wondered for a while if otter isn’t in there somewhere.

If lion is my 'ferocious/spiritual' side, otter would be my silly bounce when I’m at my best. Plus the whole swimming, fish-eating thing. :d

Also, no cracks about sea lions please. I am definitely not one of those. ;P"

This led to responses such as:

@inkblitzer: "Oh, I'm pretty sure they are."

@Pyropone: "Sure they are! Otters can be adorable!"

@ CoaldustPony: "But otter is your silly side! So at least 256% otter."

So, I kinda feel like the guy who comes out to his parents only to have them say "We've known since you were six, dude." XD

@DatBirdBrain asked, "Liotters can be friends with zebras since they eat mostly fish then, right?" To which I responded "I never met a zebra I didn't like! ...But I've only ever met, like, two."

That said, I'm not going to start calling myself a liotter. Firstly, because I am and pretty much always have been a lion, just a lion who is part otter. And secondly because "liotter" looks like "loiterer" every time I see it, and I'm definitely not one of those!

-The Gneech *bounce!*
the_gneech: (Mysterious Beard)
I want us to own a house again. I want it to be a good house, that we shape to suit our needs and caprices, in a place that we love.

In this house, I want to have a solid, for-real studio, in which I can do solid, for-real work (even when that work is creating light entertainment).

No more messing around.

-The Gneech
the_gneech: (Mysterious Beard)
Current weight: 283.5, down 5.3 lbs from last week.
Total weight lost: 35.5 lbs from my starting weight of 319 on July 1, 2014.
Average weight lost: 0.4 lbs/week.

Some of my symptoms of "low-carb flu" turn out to have possibly been symptoms of an actual cold, which started bugging me on Saturday and were quite noticeable yesterday, to the point where I couldn't wear the CPAP because I could breathe through my nose.

The afib, of course, went, "What? Sleeping without CPAP! That's my excuse, muthahugga!" I woke up at 2:30 with my pulse all over the stupid map. :P And now I can't megadose on propaphenone because I'm already taking it. :P (Although it didn't seem to make much difference.) Time to call the heart doc, again. Sick of this.

-The Gneech

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