Introducing...

    Everyone, meet Lil' Jilly and Lil' Stacy! I figure I will be talking about what I do remember from when I was little. This means I will be talking about my one and only little sister, Jill, a lot. I have previously described her as "a sturdy bubble of cheeriness and attitude.." or something like that. Anyway, she is two years younger than I am and she was my everything when we were little. I was the worst to her, too. When she was two, I got mad at her and pushed her off a swing. I broke her collarbone. Then there was the time, I think she was about four or so, when she decided she wanted to use our dresser to look out the window. Loving sister that I was, I thought I should pull the dresser out from under her. She had her arms crossed on the sill. Neither one of us knew there was a nail poking out of the molding around the sill. When I pulled said dresser from under her, I expected her to fall. She didn't. A nail had snagged her under her armpit and she hung there. I hung her by her armpit by a nail. Yeah...what a wonderful sister. She still has the scar. Anyway, I have been neck deep in my markers today and I sketched up what I will be using to illustrate my stories. I have some tweaking to do...like to actually make it look like Jill's using pockets and not sticking her hands down her pants. Let me know what you think! :)

Ideas....

I love my little sister. She's this sturdy bubble of cheeriness with attitude. It's marvelous. I was a very shy person when we were little,and many if the friends I made back then was because of her. Mostly because my mother had sent me to go look for her. It always seems that she and I go on our outlet shopping trips on the worst day possible. It's usually in the Spring, and it's when it is freezing outside. If you have ever shopped at Lodi or Aurora Farms, you would know that there's no warm and toasty indoor mall to roam around in. It's sister time, so we do it. Any way, my sister, in her awesomeness, has becometo addicted to a particular brand of shoe. As a result, I have now received two pairs of these shoes for my birthday and Christmas. (Mary Jane style for birthday and winter furry lined style for Christmas...) Let me say...I now LIVE in these shoes. They are beyond comfortable. Being someone of significant girth, comfort while on my feet is a godsend. Any way, I noticed on an ad that they now make shaping/ rocker/ walking style of said shoe brand. I want it. So. On our latest outletmall trip, we went to the Croc store. I did not find the shaping shoe but I am throwing away all other shoes and buying only them from now on. (Not really...I mean...maybe not...) They did have the cutest styles and if I had unlimited money I would buy quite a few pairs. My sister had bought my hubby a pair of the furry lined of these shoes. He likes them, too. Which leads to the idea part of this post....he said "They need to make these in steel-toed workshoes." Thus I get the idea......

Adventure - Mushroomland

I have always wondered about myself. My brother told me once that he was concerned that I would be the one experimenting with drugs and being all “Far OUT , man..” Until the ripe age of 26, I refused to touch any drug that wasn’t prescribed. I drank alcohol, but I can still count my “way too drunk” episodes on one hand. I was almost to the point of “Goody two shoes.” Then I met the-now-Hubby. I experimented. Now I realize why drugs had very little hold on me. It turned out to be nothing more than a tired me. I haven’t hallucinated, and I am really no more paranoid than normal, just with the drug(s) I am more relaxed and show it. It’s like drinking without the sick stomach. I am in no way condoning the use of any illegal substances. I mean, I am an adult and I choose to do an occasional stupid thing. That’s on me. Anyway, I digress. This is all set up for a short little tale from my childhood. I have heard that after doing a certain number of hits of acid, one can be considered insane. The stuff like, rewires the brain or something. Once, while on a small “trip” I wondered: could something that had happened to me as a child have effected how drugs affect me in adulthood? I asked Hubby. He just kinda nodded and shrugged. Now onto the story…

Let me begin by saying I was four. My only actual memory of the incident was thinking, “Mommy doesn’t have to buy mushrooms any more…”

Apparently, I ate a toadstool from the backyard. To this day, I have no idea how my parents found out. I think they saw me eat it. My Dad tells the story and he paints a picture of him feeding me fizzy things and shaking me upside down. Apparently, I have steel for a stomach. No matter how sick I feel, I don’t throw up. It sucks. The only thing that makes me hurl is severe pain. I learned that later on in life. So there I was, thinking I found something fantastic, and my parents are doing whatever they can to make me throw it up. This leads to me having to take several doses of Ipecac…which is also a poison. I am not clear on how I received more than one dose. I know at least one dose was given by my parents and another by some sort of medical person…my guess is at the hospital. So there I was, triple-poisoned, and still not making with the upchucking. I have been told I had to have my stomach pumped. Something tells me I should be glad I don’t remember the experience.

It does make me wonder if the chemicals coursing through me during that incident still affect me. I mean, Mom said it was a toadstool….I remember thinking ...”MUSHROOMS!” I have always been a slightly “off” child. (see below) I don’t remember much from my childhood, either. I remember the injuries…one of which involved my ankle tangling with bike spokes while the bike was still moving…and then there was the time I got my knee caught on a nail as I rounded a corner… I believe the term often used was “accident prone.” My ability to injure wasn’t restricted to only me, either…but that is another blog subject entirely! I remember spending most of my time in a slight dream state. It seriously makes me wonder… “Do I really need any drugs?!”

<----See, I found an old report card. I march to my own drummer...yeppers...that'd be me!

OMFG!!!!

OK. I am not one to spread or even talk about politics or current events. It is an extremely sticky conversation. Some people would think I am too liberal, while others would think I am too conservative. This being said, I was sent the craziest story from a friend, and here it is:

http://www.rawstory.com/rs/2011/03/16/republican-lawmaker-blames-11-year-old-victim-of-alleged-gang-rape/

WOW. I mean, I have a 14 year old daughter and I let her dress how she chooses. She chooses to cover herself most of the time. She experiments with older looking clothes...like this one from her Valentine's Day dance. ---------------------------------------->

There is no way I can condone blaming an 11 year old girl for her rape. It is just plain crazy. We, as a society, are bombarded every day with hooker-like clothing on all sorts of women and girls. Does that give every man out there a right to rape them? No, it doesn't. Have some sense, people. I can understand ONE guy saying that a girl OF AGE said it was consensual. (No way am I condoning rape here, just addressing the stickiness of other situations...)...BUT this was a GANG rape (which = several boys) and an 11 year old girl. If she was my daughter, I would in no way blame her for being raped. The definition of rape is that it is NOT CONSENTING. I don't care if she was running around naked, that is no reason to rape her. UGH. I am so disgusted about it. Those boys chose to ruin their own lives by choosing to commit a crime. Plain and simple.

Dawning of a new Era

Okay. I just got done reading some blogs that I like, and I realize...maybe I need to do that. SO. Unlike my other blog, I am hoping to keep this one humorous. I realize just how un-funny I can be, but I hope that won't get in the way. For those who know me, it will be a peek into my mercilessly ADHD brain. It can be scary, but don't worry-I won't let the Ogres eat anyone.

So, I am awake at 4:35 am and just finished watching another episode of "Sailor Moon." I LOVE me some cartoons! I also was checking in with the blog I like, "Hyperbole and a Half." It's funny stuff. So, when I created this blog, I tossed a link to it with my "gadgets." This chick totally gets it. I also included a link to by buddy's game page. Awesome stuff, check it out.

BLAH BLAH....boring stuff here....BLAH BLAH.....(Hubby just passed by on route to the bathroom. He's grumpy and I don't want him to think I am writing vicious lies about him.)

The Hubby hurt himself changing a tire today. I am totally at a loss as to how he managed to hurt a muscle in his butt. Gives new meaning to "Pain in the Ass." Oh, just a warning: I do swear. Please do not be offended, I just have come to learn to like the colorful phrases that can be used. I can be creative with it, though. Once I told my landlord to, "Suck a Duck." This post is gonna ramble a little, but I will probably pre-write from now on. I like to edit my stuff before the whole world sees it.

You are probably wondering why I chose the name "Hyper Spacy." Well, my name is Stacy, but I have been known in my life to be a bit of a ditz. I somehow acquired the not-so-unique nickname of Spacy. Add that to the fact that I am a bit ADHD, and thus, the name. I hope to use this blog to enlighten the world on the intricacies of my brain. Not that anyone would want this enlightenment, I am just forcing it onto the world because I am vain and I think that I am just that awesome. I also will be sharing some toon-y type of drawing and such, because I can. I also want to be famous. Not for the star treatment or anything, I just don't seem to have any skills in the work world and so I need fame to pay bills while I spend all day drawing.

The picture posted is one of my favorite pics I have drawn. I normally don't have the patience to draw this intricately, but it was for school and so I had to. I was rather proud of it.

So now I come to something I hadn't thought of before.....How does one end a post? Do I sum up, or what? Knowing me, I would ramble on for another 4 paragraphs. So. Here I go. Read me. Love me. More to come.