I hate going to funerals. I mean, I know nobody likes going to funerals, but I hate going to funerals and having to put up with family. I usually spend the entire time defending myself against some great aunt or uncle who’s just going to keep putting me down anyway. Like tonight.

THEM: So have you found a job yet?

ME: No, I’m still looking. Haven’t found a good fit yet.

THEM: Are you even looking?

ME: Yeah, I check the employment sites every day.

THEM: So you’re not actually going out to look for jobs, then?

ME: It doesn’t really work like that anymore. Most employers list job open–

THEM: How are you paying for all of your bills and whatnot?

ME: Well, I have some money saved up. And I’ve been doing some freelance writing and art stuff. Making a bit of money off of that. And I’ve got some comic conventions coming up. I’ll be selling my comics and promoting my new webcomic. That’ll bring in some money, as well.

THEM: So you pretty much just sit around at home all day, play on your computer, and read comic books? What are you?  Five years old now?

ME: No, I make things. And people give me moneys for them.

THEM: Must be nice to just sit at home all day and do nothing…


*This past may have been in my head.

I can’t wait to do it all over again tomorrow.



Tomorrow’s gonna suck. The next few weeks, really.

It’s been almost a year since I lost my Pop Pop and that whole grieving process that I pushed down and bottled up so I could stay strong for my mother during the funeral?  That bottle of grieving process that I hid away in an old piece of luggage when I went back to Columbus because I alone and didn’t think I could deal with it by myself?  That bottle of grieving process that I hid away in an old piece of luggage that I stuffed into a closet when I moved back to Cleveland and didn’t want to deal with because I was living in the man’s house, sleeping in his bed?  You know, THAT grieving process?  It’s been almost a year and, even in the old piece of luggage stuffed way in the back of the closet, I can hear the bottle that it’s been stuffed into starting to crack.

But it’s been almost a year and everyone else is starting to fall apart again and I have to be the shoulder to lean on, so I need that bottle to stay intact for a little while longer.

I just wish I could jump a few weeks into the future and get past all of this.

One month from now is S.P.A.C.E. and the start of con season.

I’ve got enough copies of my books to sell, although, I’m going to have to reorder in May, and I have my banner and postcards ready to go. My stickers should be here about a week before the show.

I still need to make some original art to sell before con season starts, though. Maybe I’ll do some watercolors. I enjoyed the ones I made last week. I just need to find some time to do them in.

I’m super appreciative of all of the commissions and freelance gigs I’ve been getting recently. They’ve been a big help financially while I continue to look for a more steady job. But they don’t leave a lot of time to work on my own stuff, writing and whatnot.

Speaking of which, I need to do some sketches of Batman for that secret project. It’s so hard to draw in someone else’s style sometimes, even if that style is very loose and cartoony.

I need to find a more permanent drawing style for myself. There are so many indie artists out there who influence the crap out of me and I’d like to draw more like them, but in my own style. If that makes any sense. I guess I just want to start drawing comics again. Maybe draw my own graphic novel. Or some webcomics.

I really do hope the Punch-Up webcomic takes off. Not for me, really. I mean, yeah, I’ve been working on this thing for years and, after being ignored or ejected by publishers, it would be nice to have a win in my corner. But I really don’t want Dave to feel like he’s wasting his time on this story and quit. Worse, I don’t want to feel like I’m wasting Dave’s time with this any more than I already do. Even if nobody remembers my name, after this story is finished, I really do hope that Dave gets some fan and critic recognition out of it. He’s a fantastic artist and he really does deserve it.

I have been really lucky to be able to work with so many amazing artists; Dave on Punch-Up and Skottie Rocket, and Abby on the kids book.

I should call Abby this weekend, see how our secret projects are coming along.

Speaking of Skottie Rocket, a lot of artists have been offering their books online as two dollar PDF downloads. Maybe I should think about selling Skottie like that. I wonder if anyone would buy a digital copy.

I need to open a Big Cartel account, start selling some shit.

I need to make some money so I can save up and buy a bike. Bike’s are expensive, yo. But, then again, so is gasoline. And it’d be a lot better to ride than drive to work every day, especially if I get that library job I found today. It sounds like a great job, offers pay I can actually live on, and, best of all, is only a few miles from my house.

I really hope I get this job. ‘Cause, y’know, I need a job, but also because it’s an excuse to meet new people. And I need to meet new people.

I’ve been in Cleveland for almost three months the only people I’ve seen on a regular basis are the ones I’m directly related to. I love my family, but I can only spend so much time with them, y’know? And my closest friends, who I have seen a few times since the move, live forty-five minutes away. After them, everyone else I know is either back in Columbus or scattered across North America.

It also makes it kind of hard to see friends, when so many of them are moving on with their lives while I’m comfortable here in the little rut that I’ve made for myself. I can’t count the number of friends who are engaged, got married, are pregnant, or just had kids. That shit scares me. Don’t get me wrong, I am nothing but super excited for my friends who are getting married and starting families. It kinda makes all my stupid shit seem trivial in comparison. I made a comic book. You made a human being.

I know the simple answer to all of this is, as my friends have pointed out repeatedly, that I just need to go meet someone. I’m “in the position where I need to either change or die.” I want to be able to say that I’d pick change, but I know I’ll just end up going with die. Because I don’t really want that kind of life. I don’t really see myself as the “get married, have a kid” kinda guy. It was just never something I wanted for myself. Besides, I would make a perfectly horrible husband and father.

Is it too much to ask to just have someone to eat dinner and watch TV with a couple of nights a week so I don’t have to do it alone? That’s all I want, really.

Fuck, I’m drunk.

Also, shit. It’s practically tomorrow already.

I need to go to bed and actually get some sleep tonight. I have Funeral Part 2: Electric Boogaloo first thing in the morning, followed by the burial, and then I want to stop by and see my Pop Pop while I’m at the cemetery. I haven’t gone to see him since Christmas Eve. I miss him. I miss him so much.

I need to get some sleep now, otherwise, I’ll be grumpy in the morning.

I’m hungry.