I was suppoused to write a lot of stuff, but the words ain't coming out tonight. Maybe some other time. But for a shorter update, last friday was the best day in months for me. There wasn't really anything special about the day, but my mood was just different than it has been lately. Just the way I was feeling about everything happened was different. I really hope that once/if I someday get out of this haze I'm in, I'll feel like that again. No regrets about the past, and no fear for the future.
Well, and on that good day I finally grabbed pencil again. Result should be here in a few days (aka once some nerd fixes the scanner).

Let's end this pathetic attempt of an journal entry with a nice quote from a great movie:

Frank: Do you know who Marcel Proust is?
Dwayne: He's the guy you teach.
Frank: Yeah. French writer. Total loser. Never had a real job. Unrequited love affairs. Gay. Spent 20 years writing a book almost no one reads. But he's also probably the greatest writer since Shakespeare. Anyway, he uh... he gets down to the end of his life, and he looks back and decides that all those years he suffered, those were the best years of his life, 'cause they made him who he was. All those years he was happy? You know, total waste. Didn't learn a thing.
(Little Miss Sunshine)