Seeing it All.

One of my oldest friends was there for this, and to this day, neither of us can remember what we said. All we know is that the world didn't make any sense, but at the same time IT TOTALLY DID. Everyone has or strives for these moments. It's why there's such a market for self-help books, and why horoscopes are followed, and all sorts of other gunk: we want clairvoyance and wisdom. We just have no idea how to get it.
The three dudes in panel 10 are meant to represent Hedonism, Materialism, and Spiritualism, respectively.
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The Wise Old Man

I used to work in high schools as a tutor for a program called AVID (Advancement Via Individual Determination), which helped at-risk kids get into four-year universities. I was in it as a kid, as were my older sisters, and my brother was in it, too. Being a tutor was fun, and even though I realized that being an educator wasn't for me, I still had a great time.
I did come to notice, though, that the question of my age came up A LOT among the students, and a lot of them figured that I was probably a 30 year old divorcee. Probably because I am irritable and bearded?
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Level Up.

So I finally got my degree this past Saturday, despite the fact that I've been out of my school since friggin' 2010. Let's just say, my school has ways of messing with you. I had particularly bad luck, but I was finally able to get the dang thing. I am now totally qualified to READ. That's right: as it says in my ABOUT page, I majored in English.
A note: The word "mijo" is a combination of the Spanish words "Mi" which means "my" and "hijo" which means "son." It's a term of endearment that generally translates to "my son."
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The Mug Shot.

When I took an art class last fall, we had a self-portrait assignment. On our newsprint (like scratch paper for artists), we had to do at least 5 or 10 quick sketches. As I went on, I noticed something. Something MORTIFYING.
I look like a criminal.
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The Crippling Fear of Cephalopods.

There's an Interfaith building at my college, and every so often, they'll hold panels where representatives of different faiths will explain their beliefs on some subject or other. Me and my roommate Chris went to one of these with some friends of ours, and topic was "Sex and Religion." It was interesting, and thee was a question-and-answer segment. Someone asked about "auto-stimulation." I heard something TOTALLY DIFFERENT. I thought they were talking about scary creepy tentacled horrors. Thankfully, Chris corrected me. Also, I am creeped out by squid and octopus.
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So Indie It Hurts (Not Really).

I have a butt-load of music, and while I'm not even close enough to be cool enough to be a hipster, it has been made quite clear to me by other people that my taste in music is "eclectic" at best and "really freaking weird" at worst. I generally have a habit of listening to albums on my Itunes library the whole way through, but every now and then, I'll get a little crazy and put my whole library on "shuffle." One day, this proved to be a mistake. Here's a rundown of how it went that day:
Disco Inferno--The Trammps
Blowing in the Wind--Bob Dylan
C'est L'amour--Rosi Golan
Death in Fire--Amon Amarth
I love all my music, but I just can't switch genres like that one after the other. It's really confusing.
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Would This Count As Cosmetic Surgery?

So I'm back from a fantabulous week working with the Gear Up program, which focusses on getting kids to a four-year university. The kids were awesome, and the other staff were the coolest people ever. One, whom I will refer to as "College Mom" (because she was like everybody's mom during that week, see), wanted me to include her in the comic. Her condition? Make her younger, thinner, and more shapely. And a superhero. She made that part very clear.
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Plastic Can Be Uncooperative Sometimes.

While I've been going to community college summer term, I have gotten back into the habit of taking lunch with me. I use an old gas mask bag that was just taking up space, and usually freeze a delicious drink, like tea or water, to put in my lunch. Sometimes, however, I get thirsty, and I end up having to break the ice prematurely. And sometimes, the bottle decides that I don't get to drink my tasty drink. The other person in this comic is a dude I hang out with who easily is a head taller than me.
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