Monday, March 10, 2008

Today is My Sunday

Tomorrow I go back into work. Twice I've been asked on the phones if I'm a robot or tape recorder. We have numerical id's we sign into the program with, and a friend suggested we answer by saying "Yes, I'm A37." Doing survey work is not too hard, it's kind of monotonous but I do take pride in trying to be as polite as possible to the people on the phones. Even if they're nasty to me I generally say "Thanks for your time." I only had one really nasty guy once, and he told me twice to go fuck myself. I should have said "I did last night, thanks for reminding me, I'll attend to that when I get home.

I'm tired of fucking myself. No I'm not. Masturbation is the best release for tension. Did you know there's a condition called Persistent Genital Arousal Syndrome where people masturbate all the time and there's no release? Oh man that would suck. And I don't think I could handle having soggy panties all the time.

When I was really crazy, the only musician who made any sense was Nina Hagen, who I almost met once when my online friend's mother was hanging out with her in Vancouver. My friend Maureen Bradley met her and interviewed her, lucky duck.

I've been dreaming a lot lately that I'm back at Emily Carr in the film department, which no longer exists, now it's the Integrated Media Department. I miss the film department. I have good memories of spending my hours in the editing suites. Editing was my favorite part of being in film school, and I had hoped to make a career out of it, but so far that hasn't happened. It's okay though, what I really want to be is a full time director, and this year I really get to be one.

Being crazy at Emily Carr was barely noticiable, except for the day I came in drugged up on sleeping pills and my ex, Velveeta, said I looked all loggy. Velveeta's hilarious. I promised I would buy her some fake balls for her bicycle, and I did but I haven't gotten it together to put them in the mail. At first she thought I meant real balls, and I was going to send her a jar of pickled testicles. I don't know where she got that idea from.

She was the one who would sign up for twice the allotted time by going in as Maya Deren, sneaky fucker!

I'm looking forward to travelling this year, it's very exciting.

Sometimes I really think enlightenment happens during psychosis. There's about a week when suddenly synchronicities start happening, and you notice a pattern to chaos. But then when you try to voice the pattern, all hell breaks loose because I think Chaos doesn't like people to notice it has a pattern. And then sometimes I think there is real power going on during insanity. One time when I was in the ward a woman who was very psychotic told me I pissed off a tree. This would sound like nonesense unless you knew I nailed something to a tree while I was crazy. And I hadn't told anybody that. So maybe she wasn't so crazy. But then she started saying "There's cracks in God!" Which could be true.

I'm doing okay, and that's a good thing. Life is working out for me right now.

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