Migrain. Extreme. Hit this afternoon whilst out looking at locations for my cousin's restaurant, but I didn't want to seem a killjoy and toughed it out. I didn't puke, not once. w00t.

I've been home since 5, took some prescription meds, writhed about in my cool, dark room until it began to fade, and had to log on to see if an expected email had arrived.

It did. I'm pleased, but not pleased enough to forgive my brain for hurting.

So yeah, my cuz has begun looking a locations for his restaurant. He's got 3 banks desperate to throw money at him and is now so high on possibility he's passing it around. He's talked to me about helping me open a salon after I graduate and have good experience. He even mentioned cosigning, which blew me away.

Told me he'd pay for haircuts and his wife's beauty treatments with free food and drink. I'm like, hell's yeah!

It just seems like, I don't know, my life is really, FINALLY, falling in to place. It's scary, because with my history, I'm waiting for the bottom to drop out, but...

... I don't think it's gonna.

*flashes a brilliant smile, in spite of her head*

Yeah, it's all going to work out. I really have turned optimistic. And determined.

It's going to work out exactly the way I want it because I won't let it go any other way.

Ooh! Did I mention that with some money that I got from selling a painting, plus early birthday money, plus a bit of sponsership from [you know who you are], I got my business license, 5 silkscreens, the materials to prep and create them, and 3 tubs of paint? And my cousin gave me her old [and by old, I mean last year's model] Mac, loaded with photo shop and a shit ton of graphic design programs, plus a scanner and printer. Because, see *chuckles* she had to buy one for her last year of school *continues to chuckle* because her graphic arts classes needed the software and IBMs would only crash *still chuckling* so now that she's done, she doesn't want it. She's not a fan of the Mac. *grins*

I have designed 3 T-shirts, and once I get paid [money that doesn't have to be spent on books, beauty supplies, clothes for my Vegas trip, or birthday pressies] I'll buy some free trade t's and start printing designs for my street teams. Speaking of which, if you wanna help a sistah out, as well as get free stuff [from clothing, to stickers, to music (once I sign a band or two), to art] when the time comes that I need to make use of the grass roots PR, drop me an email at impossibletart[at]gmail[dot]com and put Street Team in the subject line. Give me a mailing address, and also tell me if you have any talents, because down the line, I will be looking to feature artists, both on my site [traditional art, music, photog] and on my clothing [anything that can be turned into a single color screen]. This can stand to be a win/win sitch! Then, [post email] sit back and wait a few months whilst I work out the school/work/personal project time and you'll begin to receive packages full of things to wear, show off, or give to friends and family as cheap, yet cool birthday gifts! You'll also gain access to my special Impossible Tart Street Team diary. How nifty is that?

So, like I said, help a sistah out, and also, send me good thoughts so as my migrain fades by morning.

Oh, last thing, even though they don't read this [thank any and all gods in existance] I need to throw big ups to my grandma and grandpa. Their 60th wedding annivesary is the day before my birthday, we're celebrating tomorrow, and I just gots ta say:

They are the two most awesome people in the world. I can't even imagine living 60 years, much less spending that long with the same person sharing my bed. They still hold hands, they still say I love you, and they are a shining example to everyone that some things are just meant to be, and true love really does last.