Progress!

A little less than two weeks ago, I had a bad day that I didn't want to talk about.

The way I saw it then, there were six things I needed to do ASAP.

Let's see how I've been doing, shall we?

1. Move.
Literally in the process right now. The cool thing is, I'll be moving to the neighborhood I've had my heart set on for more than two years.

2. Transfer.
My first day at my new store is September 12th - that's right, a mere two weeks from now. Again, the cool thing is, I've had my heart set on this store for more than two years. Not gonna lie, I'm pretty effin' proud of myself.

3. Start hanging out with my friends a thousand times more regularly than I do at the moment.
Yup. Go me.

4. Read without ceasing.
"Without ceasing" is perhaps a bit of a stretch, but I am definitely pulling out of my initial post-therapy book slump.


5. Take pictures. (I may or may not take a photography class just for fun.)
Ahem. I still haven't done any research about the just-for-fun class, but check this out:


http://fake-photography.tumblr.com/

[Note to self: Really? You're gonna make everybody copy and paste? Geez. You need to get a lot more familiar with Blogspot STAT.]

6. Buy some crayons!
I still think this is a wonderful idea, it's just not a priority at the moment.

HEY EVERYBODY LOOK WHAT I GOT

CHEERILEE!

The cool thing? This the third time a straight girl has given me a Pony since I got out of therapy. This time is super-special, 'cause I received her as a housewarming gift.

Seriously, I am so effing excited. I've got so many amazingly awesome things coming my way in the next couple of months (and the next couple of years) (and the rest of my life). September is going to rock out loud.

The Only Picture I've Taken in Almost a Week

I Have No Memory of Writing This

[Writing stuff like this was a big part of how I managed to get through therapy.]

1. It wasn't my fault.

2. I'm a little bit psychic.
       2a. Which is nice, since I no longer feel any sort of pressing need to prove it when I'm right about something and someone else, well, doesn't see it that way.

3. One simple conversation is going to change my life drastically. For the better, although it will probably hurt at the time.

4. Pain is part of life, and it's perfectly natural . . . but love is stronger: The love I feel for others, the love others feel for me, and the love I feel for myself.

5. Yes, I said the love I feel for myself. Because, dammit, I am awesome. I've spent way too much time (sixteen years) not believing that; to quote Relient K, though, "to go back to where I was would just be wrong."

[At the top of the page, I had written REINS RINSE RESIN RISEN SIREN -- they're all spelled with the same letters arranged in different ways!]

Something Profound and My Reaction

Something Profound 


Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by
the things you didn't do than by the ones you did.



My Reaction

". . . Hunh."

"Just, uh, OH MY GOD."

"Obviously."

"Okay, I know what to do."

"I am so screwed."

"But it's gonna be okay,
even if I don't get what I want." 

This Deserves Its Own Post

"When you're alive, people can hurt you. It's easier to crawl into a bone cage or a snowdrift of confusion. It's easier to lock everybody out.
"But it's a lie."
- Laurie Halse Anderson, WINTERGIRLS

Good Months and Bad Months

I've been out of therapy and back at work for a little more than two months.

When I was a freshman in high school (circa 2003), my English teacher had the walls of her classroom covered with "cute" posters. The only one I remember had a picture of Garfield - who, as we all know, is famous for hating Mondays, isn't that just hilarious? - underneath the words, "I HAVE MY GOOD DAYS AND MY BAD WEEKS."

I hated it. (And not just because Garfield has always gotten on my nerves.)

I hate it even more now, because I think it's kind of true.

Sort of.

Despite being introduced to the perfect new roommate and finding the perfect apartment in the perfect location and finally getting approval to transfer to my dream store and successfully confronting my manager at my current store about some stuff that was getting on my nerves (note: she actually thanked me for this), I, Ryan Timothy Bish, have had one "bad day" after another lately. My attitude is great (okay . . . mostly great), my friends are so supportive that it's honestly sort of suffocating sometimes (friends, if you're reading this, PLEASE DO NOT STOP. I promise I will keep demanding that you respect my boundaries and letting you know when I need "me time," so please continue suffocating me. I need you all more than ever right now. Recovery sucks almost as much as depression), things with Mom are as good as they reasonably could be, I have four Laurie Halse Anderson books waiting for me at the library . . . and yet, I am tired all the time (even right after I wake up from a decent night's sleep). And it's not a "being awesome is exhausting" sort of tired, believe me - it's an "I don't give a fuck about anything because I just want to sleep forever because I don't give a fuck about anything; holy cows, is it still Tuesday?" sort of tired.

Which I have not felt since I was still in therapy.

Anyway. The other day, I had a thought: Maybe, while you're still "in recovery" (ugh) (how long does that last, anyway?) (forever?) (longer than forever?) (one day less than forever?) (more or less than six months?), you should stop thinking in terms of "good days" and "bad days." Maybe it would be more - not helpful, exactly, but saying efficient or productive would make you sound like a tool, and I can't think of any other synonyms that aren't pure psychobabble - to start thinking of "good months" and "bad months." After all, last months was pretty much pure awesome from start to finish. This month? Not so much!

Then again, maybe it would be an even better idea to stop thinking in such general terms at all, and just be thankful for the good moments. If you happen to have so many of those that they add up to a good day, well, good for you. If you go through a week or three and you can only remember a tiny handful of good moments, well, oh fucking well. Have some more good moments the next week, or the week after that. Or not.

Either way, don't beat yourself up about anything. Remember, recovery is not easy. It is, in fact, the hardest thing you've ever done. It's so hard that it makes things that seemed like a big deal when you did them (doing stand-up for the first time even though Sho couldn't make it even though she had been the one to push you to do it so soon; coming out to Cara; deciding to ignore how scared you were and just say "yes") feel easy - no, not just easy. It makes them feel mundane. Anybody could do them. Also, when you did them, you were still not doing anything about Depression, so all the hugs and all the kudos to you, bitch!

. . . All of which has been a very, very, very roundabout way of saying that I am just not feeling it today, you guys. I am in a serious funk.

Also! The second I sat down to write this entry, it occurred to me that I have always (?) said, "August is a bad month when bad things happen."

It's nice to know how right I was.

Not.








Alright, alright, here's something slightly more upbeat, taken from a conversation I had with my friend/older-sister-from-another-mister Kiki on Google+ about an hour ago: "The important thing, though, is that I love you and I love myself. Compared to that, [everything else is] meaningless."

One Picture, Three Perspectives

Today is . . .

. . . the worst day I've had since the day I tried to kill myself.

We could talk about it, but I'd rather just forget it and move on.

That sounds like a bunch of avoidy crap (because it is), but seriously, here's what I need to do:

1. Move.

2. Transfer.

3. Start hanging out with my friends a thousand times more regularly than I do at the moment.

4. Read without ceasing.

5. Take pictures. (I may or may not take a photography class just for fun.)

6. Buy some crayons!

The thing is, there are only two things on this list that are not already in the process of happening.

Ryan's Rules to Live By

[Note: These are, specifically, Ryan's rules to live by -- if you're anyone else, your results may and probably will vary.]

1. Just because you can see the future doesn't mean anyone else can (even if it is bloody obvious). This is okay. Take a deep breath and let things play out.

2. Just because you can see the future doesn't mean it has to happen. Even if it is the most wonderful thing ever imagined by anyone. That being said, "Don't stop believin'."

3. When in doubt, wear black.

4. Depression only has as much power as you give him.
   4a. DON'T GIVE HIM ANY.
   4b. Whenever he does start hissing in your general direction, smash him with a really big rock. Every time he starts hissing in your general direction for the rest of your life. You can do it.

5. Ponies make (almost) everything better.

6. SETBACKS HAPPEN. They make you feel worthless and that sucks out loud, but they are a totally natural, completely normal part of recovery.
   Recovery, by the way, is not an easy thing.

7. If patience was easy (refer to Rule 1 and Rule 2), anybody could do it.

8. Never go anywhere without your camera.

9. Knowing what you want and trying to get it is not a bad thing . . . but you do not have to turn into a total dick -- also, turning into a total dick will usually get you the exact opposite of what you want. Duh.

10. When someone gives you a compliment, whether you think you deserve it or not, just smile and say thank you. Particularly if the "someone" in question happens to be a total stranger.

11. You're stronger than you think.

12. Giving or receiving, forgiveness feels good.

13. Your mom is just one person. There are countless people in your life (not to mention all the people you haven't met yet) who either flat-out don't care or love you more because you're gay.
   13a. There are lots of people in the world who think like your mom does, but they are greatly outnumbered by people who . . . know better. It gets better. The future's going to be awesome, because we are all making it that way now.

14. Yes, okay, you screwed up. Big time. That doesn't mean you can't make amends (YOU'VE ALREADY BEEN FORGIVEN, AFTER ALL). That does mean you've learned things since then, and you'll never make the same mistake ever again.
   You're really truly awesome now (finally), and all of your friends are damn lucky to have you in their lives.

15. Depression thinks you're fat.
   This is a great reason to do an inordinate amount of situps and pushups just because it's a day that ends with "y."
   This is a horrible reason to avoid food for days at a time.

16. Try not to take yourself (or anyone else) too seriously.

17. Life is too short to ever be anything but happy.
   You're happier than ever, and good for you -- it was not easy -- but there are a few "simple" ways you could be so happy that people's brains start melting (or, um, something like that). Go get 'em.

18. Listen to your instincts. They're almost always right about everything.

19. Dare to hope.

Spiffy Philosophy

. . . Which reminds me of two quotes from WINTERGIRLS:

"When you're alive, people can hurt you. It's easier to crawl into a bone cage or a snowdrift of confusion. It's easier to lock everybody out.
"But it's a lie."

"The nasty voices are always on call, eager to pull me back down

::Stupid/ugly/stupid/bitch/stupid/fat/
stupid/baby/stupid/loser/stupid/lost::

but I do not let them."

I Didn't Even Ask Her to Say This

"I'm glad [someone] is noticing a change in you. I think everyone is, really. How couldn't they? You're amazing, and all... chipper when you talk. It's weird, but awesomely amazing, or amazingly awesome. Or some other crazy combination of those words and possibly others."
- Leslie Zimmerman

Magic Incantations

"Adrenaline kicks in when you're starving. That's what nobody understands. Except for being hungry and cold, most of the time I feel like I can do anything. It gives me superhuman powers of smell and hearing. I can see what people are thinking, stay two steps ahead of them. I do enough homework to stay off the radar. Every night I climb thousands of steps into the sky to make me so exhausted that when I fall into bed, I don't notice Cassie.
"Then suddenly it's morning and I leap on the hamster wheel and it starts all over again."
- Laurie Halse Anderson,
Wintergirls

NO. No no no no no! I was never this bad, but I came ever so close to beginning to get this bad. I got so good at not eating for days at a time, and weighing myself constantly, and feeling bad for wanting a veggie burger,* because Depression thinks I'm fat.

How did that even happen?

No, stupid question. Meaningless.

The important thing is that I have taught myself how to kick his ass, and I am strong enough to continue kicking his ass for the rest of my life (and maybe even teaching other people how to kick his ass -- 'cause he's a fuckface who'd kill us all if he could, slowly).

The important thing is that I, Ryan Timothy Bish, do not even recognize the person I used to be when he was in control. I am funny, I am brave, I am beautiful, I am intelligent, I am fucking fearless, I am insightful, I am the best big brother Cara or Abigail could ever hope for, I am the little brother Kiki chose as her own even though she already has one, I am confident, I am strong, I am so perceptive I can pretty much see the future, I am a stubbornly loyal friend, I am a total nerd and that is charming, I miss Dad but I'm not stuck in the past, I wish Mom acted like more of a friend but I'm not mad at her (okay . . . not constantly), I know what I want and I'm not afraid to let myself have it, I know what I want and I'm not afraid of not getting it, I read all the time, I pray even though I'm not sure who's listening and rather suspect I'm just talking to myself, I can't sing but that's not stopping me, I lost everything but I'm putting my life back together and it's the most personally enriching thing I've ever done, and he will never have any power over me ever again.

Because I won't give him any.

The power is ALL mine now, and literally anything is possible. Even if I don't actively try to make it happen, awesome stuff just can't stop happening to me.

Who knows what I'll do next?

P.S. Cassie is a ghost. If you want to know what happens to Lia (the narrator), I highly recommend picking up the book. But be careful. The author wrote it "because of the countless readers who wrote and talked to me about their struggles with eating disorders, cutting, and feeling lost." She did a supremely good job (although, um, OF COURSE SHE DID -- this is Laurie Halse Anderson we're talking about), so, even if reading a book about those subjects won't be a trigger for you, it is very . . . heavy. I've read it twice before; even though I know how everything is eventually going to play out, it is extremely difficult to read. Even more difficult than Speak. And that's saying something.

*Yes, I seriously have a "food journal" from November of 2009 where I regularly got mad at myself for wanting and then having a veggie burger. With soy cheese. I wish I were making this up as a really sick joke. But not so much.
I still have it, by the way. No one is allowed to read it, but I keep it to remind myself just how much Depression had encroached his way into every facet of my life -- and to remind myself of just how far I've come.

Just So You Know

I've been kind of quiet for the past few days -- not because I've stopped fighting, but because everything has been so so SO VERY AWESOME that I honestly have no idea where to even start talking about any of it!

I still don't have any idea where to even start, so I'm just gonna go ahead and own the fact that I may never get around to it. Which I'm okay with, because the truth of the matter is that everything is going to be awesome and I'm going to keep fighting to make everything awesome for quite a good long while . . . so, really, there's no need to tell anybody every little awesome thing that happens to me. Particularly not when every single day is so full of so many awesome things, you know?

That being said, there are more than a couple of things I do want to get around to sometime soon, such as:

* Frequently Asked Questions

* The Thing About My Mother

* Happy Tears I Have Cried Lately

* Did therapy truly "change" me that dramatically, or was I always this confident and just really good at hiding it before?

* Exactly What I Want for My Birthday

* "If you want to do something impossible, stop telling yourself that it's impossible." I've done more than one impossible thing in the past six weeks.

* My Instincts Are Almost Always Right -- About EVERYTHING

* IndyFringe and the Fun That Was Had There

* Quotes from Buffy that aptly sum up how (and why) to fight Depression . . .

. . . such as . . .

"There's only one thing on this Earth more powerful than Evil, and that's us."

Alright.

More later.

LOVE.

Taking Pictures is Therapeutic

Lions and Tigers and Metaphors, Oh My

Last night it occurred to me that battling Depression is a bit like The Wizard of Oz (the movie; it's been years and years since I read any of the books): Your entire life gets uprooted by a storm that seems to come out of nowhere, so you have to go on this big long journey -- a journey full of irony and foreshadowing and other such things -- and face your worst fears, and meet all these people who either help you or harm you in some way, just to get home . . . only to discover that, in the end, you had the power to get what you wanted all along.

But you couldn't have taught yourself how to use the power if you hadn't taken the journey.

P.S. Speaking of power, here are two quotes from high school that I've recently gained a new appreciation for.

"You believed you were beautiful and so did the rest of the world." - Sarah Dessen, Keeping the Moon

"There's only one thing on this Earth more powerful than evil . . . and that's us." - Buffy Summers

The Truth

When I was in therapy, I had a lot of anger to deal with (funny how it and depression go together so horribly well) . . . most of which I could not express directly, since confronting my mom is a lot like punching a brick wall (except even more infuriating: if you punch a brick wall, you at least get some bloody knuckles to, you know, show for it) and my dad is dead.

Speaking of my dad being dead, I really believe that that has a lot to do with why I have depression in the first place. I always figured it was my fault that he died. Mom went out of her way to assure me and my sister that it was absolutely not in any way our fault, because she really is a good parent and a fairly stable, capable, competent person in general -- but, you know, depression is a twisted little thing. Even when you've got every possible person silently yelling at you that things are one way, you can very easily convince yourself that they are actually another way. You can very easily believe a lie, no matter how stupid it is.

For sixteen years, if you're me.

Anyway. One (enormously hugely helpful) thing I was able to do to express my anger was write down whatever was pissing me off or making me sad and then BURN IT. Of course, being the anal-retentive dork that I am, I had to first copy it onto my laptop "just in case."

Which is funny, 'cause now I'm glad I did.

This is from June 7th:


It wasn't my fault.
    It wasn't anybody's fault. (If somebody must be blamed -- which is not the case -- it might be a good idea to ask why the fuck he was driving without a seatbelt, or why he took his eyes off the road!)
    It just happened.
    If it hadn't happened that day in that way, it would've happened another way, probably within a week.
    It wasn't my fault that I spent so long thinking it was my fault. The important thing is that I'm learning how to let it go now.
    It wasn't my fault.
    It wasn't my fault it wasn't my fault it wasn't my fault.
    I was just a little kid then, a harmless little stupid innocent seven-year-old human kid.
    Dad was my hero, and it sucks that he died so horribly, but death and grief are parts of life. They are both totally normal and completely natural.
    Dad died too soon, and that was terrible -- but that does not mean that everyone I love is going to die or abandon me sooner or later. I do not need to push them away to protect my heart from breaking.
    I DESERVE TO BE HAPPY.
    In fact, I deserve to be fucking ecstatic at least once a day, EVERY SINGLE DAY. And also make someone else fucking ecstatic. Once a day, EVERY SINGLE DAY. For the rest of my life.
  
Holy fuck. Realizing this after all these years feels so good. On every possible level.

Sweet & Short

[NOTE: This turned out just a bit longer than I originally planned. Heh.]



You know . . .

I am really, really, really, really, REALLY glad that I didn't kill myself in April. It seemed like a really great idea at the time (and so easy), but some tiny little indomitable part of me -- the only part that was still Ryan at this point -- wouldn't stand for it. He/I yelled "FUCK THIS FOOLISHNESS!" -- which, in retrospect, was the first time I ever punched Depression (even though I didn't teach myself to think of him as someone I could fight until late June) in his stupid face, and I'm so glad.

I just said that, didn't I? Oh well.

My point is that I am slowly -- seriously, s-l-o-w-l-y -- earning my life back, and it feels so amazing. Everything feels amazing. Even when I'm tired (which is a lot of the time, since I work too much) or pissed off (which is more than I would like, since I have to deal with stupid people quite a lot) or whatever, I am supremely grateful for every single second.

The thought that I came so close to never seeing my little sisters again is seriously scary -- but, at the same time, it just gives me even more inspiration to keep getting better. I want to be awesome for myself, obviously, but I also want them to be proud of me, even though I'm kind of a spaz. I'm always going to be kind of a spaz, honestly.

Also, I dunno. I have three best friends. (Actually, I have a handful -- but there are three in particular who I used to see more than anyone else.) My relationship with all three of them was just sort of spiraling out of control and I couldn't fix it and none of them had any idea how to deal with me -- DEPRESSION IS A STUPID FUCKFACE AND KICKING HIM FEELS GOOD -- and I am so goddamn proud of myself for choosing to stick around and try to fix that. (I'm doing a really great job so far, by the way.)

ALSO, I started seeing the future -- which is a good thing, 'cause when you're suicidally depressed you can't even deal with the thought of, you know, later the same day -- and it's slightly different every time, but it's always bright. I could go to culinary school. I could start writing full-time. I could pursue comedy professionally. I could take some photography classes. I could volunteer with some adult literacy program or other.

I could go to culinary school AND start writing full-time AND pursue comedy professionally AND take some photography classes AND volunteer with some adult literacy program or other.

Whatever I do, it's gonna be awesome.

Because I'm awesome!

I'm doing such a good job at this whole "choosing to be happy, choosing to make other people happy, choosing to telekinetically blow up Depression whenever he starts to whisper in my general direction" thing that, honestly, awesome stuff cannot stop happening to me.

Watch me shine, bitches.

P.S. Thanks, Dad. I love you.

Being Psychic Rocks

Some people are so transparent that it's practically obscene.

Oy Vey

I don't know if this is yet another setback or if I'm "just" feeling like crap, but HOLY COWS I FEEL LIKE CRAP TODAY THIS IS SO STUPID.

Remember:

Setbacks happen. They're no fun at all, but they are a natural, normal part of recovery (which, by the way, is not an easy thing).

Sometimes they happen every single day for almost a week.

This does not, in any way, make you a total failure, or somehow magically undermine all the progress you made while you were in treatment -- which, again, was a lot. Of progress, that is. You made an extraordinary amount of progress in an extraordinarily short amount of time. That's not just your own opinion, either. People who have said something to the same effect, without being asked, include, but are not limited to, three different therapists, pretty much everyone who was in group with you, one person who left group before you did (good job staying in touch with her), two of your three best friends in the world, and the big sister who is not actually technically related to you.

Also.

You know how you've been working so hard to be fucking ecstatic every single day, and make at least one other person fucking ecstatic every single day? You know how you've been working so hard to take care of yourself? You know how you've been working so hard to be as awesome as you've finally seen yourself to be? (You know how you've been making it look easy, even though it's not?)

You know how you've been doing such a good job that awesome stuff just can't stop happening to you even when you aren't trying?

The fact that you've had such a crappy week IS NOT GOING TO CHANGE THAT.

P.S. I'm really proud of you for what you did yesterday. Pretty much everyone in the whole world sucks at expressing anger in a constructive way, but you proved that it's actually fairly easy. That was spiffy.

Heh

"Blogging is essentially talking to yourself with the windows open."

Even in Australia

So.

It's rapidly getting better, but -- before one p.m., by the way -- today was so horrible that . . .

I had a goddamn cigarette. 

I can't exactly say that it really "helped," but it did last ten full minutes, after which I did feel quite a bit more peaceful.

For about half a second.

An hour later, I had another one.

We should probably talk about it, but I don't wanna.

Simple Ways Hasbro Could Be Making SO MUCH MORE MONEY

Once upon a time in the 1980s, My Little Pony (briefly) sold better than Barbie.

[NOTE: I'm not actually 100% sure if this is true, although I could swear I've read it before several times -- when I tried to find it somewhere to verify it for this post, well, it was nowhere to be found -- but it sounds likely to me, so let's nod and smile and keep going.]

Once upon a time in 2009, Hasbro clearly had no idea what to do with the franchise. You could tell, because they got it into their heads that it would actually be a good idea to just keep re-releasing the "Core Seven" over and over and over. "But hey, it's okay! We're going to focus on their personalities! That'll make it worth it to buy all seven of them over and over and over! You'll eventually stop noticing that we're not producing any Ponies other than the Core Seven! We promise!"

Once upon a time in 2010, Lauren Faust saved everything. She had quite a bit of help, obviously, but no one involved with the project would have been involved with the project if she hadn't dreamed up a magical little show called My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.

[NOTE: Interestingly, five of the Core Seven have appeared on the show so far -- two of them as mane characters -- and they've all been vastly improved by it. Particularly Rainbow Dash, who is at least twenty percent cooler now than she was then.]

Because it is just that good, FiM has amassed a huge following of fans who are, well, not little girls.

Which means that we have much more disposable income than fans who ARE little girls.

Which is money that we would love to give to Hasbro in exchange for merchandise.

Unfortunately, Hasbro is still somewhat unsure of how to handle the franchise. A complete list of all the merchandise they've released so far, as well as some that's coming soon, can be found here: http://www.mylittleponynews.com/p/g4-my-little-pony-checklist.html#plush

I'm not saying that's not impressive, because it really is. I'm just saying there's so much more that they could be releasing, and they're pretty much sitting on top of a veritable gold mine right now. Just off the top of my head, here are several ways they could be making QUITE A BIT of money off of us:

Season 1 on DVD
The word "duh" seems wholly inadequate all of a sudden. Fortunately, this is apparently on its way!

Non-Brushable Figures
the Mane Six in their "action poses" from "Dragonshy"
the Mane Six wearing the Elements of Harmony
Nightmare Moon
Opalescence, Gummy, Winona, Angel, and Spike
the Mane Six as fillies
the Mane Six after they've been "cursed"
the Mane Six dressed up for the Gala
the Mane Six after going crazy (happens to Applejack in "Applebuck Season," Pinkie Pie in "Party of One," Rarity in "Suited for Success," Twilight Sparkle in "Swarm of the Century" and "Look Before You Sleep," Fluttershy in "The Best Night Ever," and Rainbow Dash in "Sonic Rainboom")
Spike as a hatchling
the Cutie Mark Crusaders (duh)
gift set: the Cutie Mark Crusaders with scooter, helmets, and wagon
every single character who has ever appeared on the show, including but not limited to: Twilight Sparkle, Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, Granny Smith, Big Macintosh, Nightmare Moon, Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, Zecora, the Wonderbolts, the hydra, the manticore, the Diamond Dogs, Lyra, Bon Bon, Derpy Hooves, Ditzy Doo, Octavia, the twins, Applejack's entire family, Twilight Sparkle's parents, Mayor Mare, Philomena, Little Strong Heart, THE GREAT AND POWERFUL TRIXIE, the Ursa Minor, Snips and Snails, Prince Charming, Gilda, Mr. and Mrs. Cake, DJ PON-3, Braeburn, Rose, Daisy, Lily, parasprites, Hoity Toity, Photo Finish, the sorrowful serpent, Owlowicious, the Shadowbolts, Cheerilee, Princess Celestia's guards, Pinkie Pie's family, etc. etc. etc.
==> most of whom could be released in MULTIPLE POSES, and seriously, we'd still buy them all

Brushable Figures
Scootaloo
Sweetie Belle
Apple Bloom
six gift packs: each of the Mane Six with their pre-Fim counterparts
gift pack: ELEMENTS OF HARMONY
Nightmare Moon
Princess Celestia -- but make her the right color this time, duh
Zecora
Derpy Hooves
re-release: Rarity . . . with her hair all one color, and maybe even styled correctly
re-release: Twilight Sparkle . . . twenty percent less pink
re-release: Applejack WITH HAT
gift pack: PARTY OF ONE
gift pack: Fluttershy vs. the cockatrice
gift pack: Fluttershy vs. the dragon
gift pack: Rarity and Sweetie Belle
gift pack: Applejack, Apple Bloom, and Big Macintosh
gift pack: Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo
gift pack: Rarity vs. Applejack
gift pack: Twilight Sparkle and THE GREAT AND POWERFUL TRIXIE
gift pack: Rainbow Dash and Gilda
gift pack: the Cutie Mark Crusaders in costume
Cheerilee with eighties hair
Pinkie Pie in disguise
Pinkie Pie as a Pegasus Pony (what? I'd buy it)
Applejack with Bloomberg
and so on and so forth

Playsets
Rainbow Dash's House (DUH)
Rarity's Boutique
Sugar Cube Corner
Twilight Sparkle's Library
Sweet Apple Acres
Fluttershy's House

Plushies
Scootaloo
Pinkie Pie
Rarity
. . . and whoever else ya feel like

Sooo, there you have it.

I'm just saying.

Recent (Non-Pony) Pictures

The forest is so dark that I can hardly see, but I'm not afraid anymore: The scariest thing in here is ME.