Relapse

Dear Reader,

I'm afraid I have some bad news. Brace yourself; make sure you are securely seated in your computer chair--although if it's a swivel-type chair, then perhaps you'd be better off standing up. Alright. I'll just come right out and say it. It's not like I enjoy playing with your tender feelings, my sensitive reader. The suspense is probably too much for you to bear.

On a side note, I just ate some lovely fried chicken for dinner. And then I had a hotdog sandwich, positively dripping with mustard and smothered with onions. And I...

Oh, right. Ahem.

I have suffered...cue dramatic music...a relapse. Yes, a relapse. I have officially fallen off the wagon. Instead of kicking the habit, the habit has turned around and kicked me. In the proverbial rear. With extensive force, I might add.

"What on earth is she babbling on about?" you direct your chilly, miffed expression towards the computer screen, impatiently scrolling down the page.

Well, dear reader, if you insist on taking that tone with me...

Your icy glare pierces me to my marrow, sending chills right through your computer screen, straight across cyberspace, and down my spine.

Without further ado, I say, I have relapsed...into my old habit of procrastination. My most recent submission for DA was dated 2nd June. I kid you not. I am absolutely mortified at myself. I am scandalised, in fact, that I could actually be so negligent and careless. And yet...here I am, blogging about it instead of taking any steps to rectify my callous oversight.

It doesn't make any sense, I know. Welcome to my contrary world. Although, in my defense, I am in fact working on something right now. This something is a bit harder than anything I've done before, because it has a background! For once in my life, I'm drawing a proper background.

So, don't judge me too harshly, my impulsive reader. I shall try harder than ever to stop procrastinating, once and for all. I think that's it from me. Til next time, my dear reader. *skips off to watch TV--er, I mean to draw...draw like she's never drawn before*

Yours,

Figgy the Feet Dragger

Busy, busy, busy...

Dear Reader,

Lately I've noticed my posts are getting shorter, fewer, and farther in between. They're no longer the loquacious, long-winded rants of former days. And although [I presume] the brevity of my recent posts might actually be more of a cause for celebration than of woe for you, my dear reader, I still feel that I've been neglecting my little Fig House. For once, I actually have a good excuse for my negligence...besides my acute inclination to lollygag, that is. I have been busy. Actually busy. Doing stuff. 

For one thing, I have been busy...drawing. Now that I've joined DA, I feel obliged to churn out artwork at an almost manic rate. Is there such a thing as a prolific artist? Because, if there is, that's what I am. At least, that's what I was until a few moments ago, when I took a short break to get reacquainted with you, my dear reader. And I hope I shall continue to be busy for a long time to come. Nothing like waking up with an unyielding sense of purpose to keep you grounded; it's the little piece of sanity of which I am sorely in need of. Therefore, if I seem inattentive or remiss in my blogging, I hope you'll forgive me, my compassionate reader. It's for the greater good, you see. I have to draw, or I shall go insane.

For another thing, I have been busy...reading. I am currently trying to read no fewer than three books at once. It's slow-going, as you can probably imagine. I just went book-shopping. Bought many, many books. As many as my budget would allow, anyway. The books I am trying to devour whole at present are 'Eragon' by Christopher Paolini, 'Hard Times' by [duh!] Charles Dickens and, surprisingly, 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire' by J. K. Rowling. 

Now, concerning 'Eragon'...I've always wanted to read Mr. Paolini's books. The fact that he started writing 'Eragon' at the tender age of 15 intrigued me. I wanted to see if his alleged writing prowess was really all it was cracked up to be. Pretty interesting so far. You can actually see his progress as the book...progresses. See his skills develop as the plot...develops. Yeah. Anyway, one thing's for sure: the movie is so different from the book. The book is so much more detailed and informative than the crummy movie was. And the characters were different as well. Totally different. *sigh* I hate it when someone decides to make a movie based on a book. The movie invariably turns out to be a complete disappointment.

As for 'Hard Times', well. It was written by Charles Dickens. Need I say more? Actually, I've read it before, a long time ago. But I never owned a copy of it until now. It's one of my life-long goals to be able to quote any given  Charles Dickens book at will. By passages.

Ah, 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire'. I hate to say it, but--at risk of being included in the horde of Harry Potter idolaters--the rumours were true. The woman can write. I'm on the fourth book, so I can safely say that I have officially joined the J. K. Rowling fan club. I wonder what else she'll write about. Can't wait to read it, whatever it may turn out to be.

Well, that's it. No, seriously. What exactly do you mean by that, my insensitive reader? 'You don't sound busy at all', indeed! Believe you me, this amount of exertion on my part is no trifling matter. I don't have one industrious bone in my body. And if I do, it's sure to be a puny little thing; overshadowed by my enormous compulsion to be idle. However, with a little exercise, I hope my [nearly] non-existent industrious-ness will develop into something. Something large and all-consuming. Like a bush fire. Or an exceptionally full bladder.

Anyway, I shall take my leave now, dear reader. See you round the bend! Til then, I remain...

Yours,

Figgy the Busy, Industrious, Diligent, Occupied, Engaged, and...Generally Full of Activity