Thursday, December 31, 2009

More Better New Years Eve!!

Happy New Year's eve!!! I am going to a rave named after sex workers standing in the cold. Kinda strange that bit I know. My friend Carrie Gates is VJing at it so she scored me a ticket. I am not sure what to expect, I haven't been to a rave in a really long time. I don't know how late I will be able to stay out either, I kind of want to wind up chilling in my apartment for the later part of the night. I find that much safer if altered states of mind are involved, to end up back in a residential property with a small handful of friends. Or one other friend. Or my cousin who sleeps on the couch sometimes when she wants to stay past the late bus.

I won't be seeing my cousin though, she's doing something else. So it will be kinda weird, logically we usually just always hang out with each other. But I'm trying to branch out a bit friend-wise. Just because it's getting lonely when it's always my one best friend. I need some variety. I need MORE people to sleep on the couch, or in my bed. But probably the couch. It's a good couch for sleeping on.

My mom and Laurel and I have this ongoing joke about the perfect personals ad to hook a Native man would have pictures of the television with cable box, the opened well stocked refrigerator, and the couch. It's perfect really, all the essentials are there! The rest is just minor details.

For anyone really, that is pretty sexy when I think about it. I would answer a personals ad like that.

I wanted to take pictures of my clean apartment and post them online, but I haven't washed the dog stain off the floor yet and I feel like it would just disturb people. And I don't want to wash the floor right now because it's late and I don't want to keep the neighbor up. Plus Mum always said cleaning at night was a sign of madness. And I'm trying not to do so many mad things. Maybe just a few. Writing at night could be considered mad, but not if you knew writers.

Wait, let me back up again, does it seem creepy that I would post pics of my clean apartment online/ I didn't think so myself. I once took pictures of a moderately messy apartment of mine and emailed them to a friend who I was commiserating with on living messy lives. But I never sent her the worst mess, I was just too ashamed. Ha ha! But I'm just so PROUD of having a clean apartment, I want to show it off. But I don't like having that many people in my apartment at a time. It's like a virtual tour. But the facebook version.

Horders is an intense program. I'm glad I've kept A&E so I could watch that and Intervention.

Anyway, Mum said that since I cleaned up she could see that I wasn't a hoarder, I was just lazy.

Is that better/

Or as my cousin would say, More Better/

My question mark key no longer functions, so all of those forward slashes should be replaced by a question mark, because I'm the author and I say so.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

The Kitten is Here and Xmas is OVAH!

I guess I should talk about the new kitty. She has been here for one week and two days. She is a tortoiseshell Manx kitten and about 6 or 7 months old. She's extremely friendly and purring almost ALL the time! She's super special, my friend Shavonne hooked me up with her, one of her friends was giving her up because of various reasons, and even Shavonne fell in love with her which is funny because she isn't a pet person.

Poor kitty had to be alone all during Christmas and last night when I got back she was attached to me all night. She kept stealing my pillow and purring right near my face.

She was growly, hissy, and spitty to little Mister for the first week, but now she has gotten used to him and goes right up to him and sniffs him. She hasn't figured out that he is a potential play partner yet. He's great at playing with cats. I suspect they will figure that out soon.

She has a little stub of a tail and doesn't know how to clean her bum properly yet.

Her name is Lynxa, and I am trying to figure out if I want to change it.
It's time to go to bed and I'm not done writing! :( I will try to write more tomorrow!

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Creativity!!! Fun!

Tonight is party night. But my party companion passed out, and I am awake, as some partying can make one. So I have been editing for hours. And it's been really great!!! I have a whole fresh perspective on my project and have finally begun to come to terms with the fact that it's just a long video. 46 minutes without closing credits. I think it is interesting. At least to the family. I mean, I aspire for it to be interesting to everybody. It raises interesting questions about race and being mixed race either as a couple or a self.
And it makes me feel in awe of my ancestors. All the stories, and the journeys. And the love. And my Grandparents really are my model for a lifelong couple. It's rare, it seems.
I love partying so hard I end up making art.
I am uploading a rough cut of a small part of my video onto my facebook account. I'm kind of curious what people will say. I'm feeling a lot better about my video anyway. For a while it seemed all unwieldy and I didn't know what to do with it and felt lost in a maze of footage in a story with no clear directions. But now I am seeing some structure to it. The history is so interesting, especially when it is so personal. And I have the perfect ending, and the perfect beginning, and now I just need to put in some more of my beautiful footage and record some voice over and figure out how to make the effen titles import properly. Oh yeah, and build more of a soundscape. I wish I had better sound effects, somehow "Indian Attack" and "Indian War Whoops" don't fit in with my general concept.
46 minutes. Something makes me wonder if I have the ovaries to make people pay attention for that long. But I want to do a 20 minute comedy after this, and get someone to produce my Bunnyhug feature which is currently 120 minutes long. I'm still going to make the odd 5 minute video though.
I wonder who's going to show such a long video. It seems intense. I have no idea who my audience is. I'm going to try and raise some cash to rent a theatre for a screening of it. Just to show some Saskatoon folks, including my family. But it will also be going to my distributors. Where the hell they will send them off to, I have no idea.
I also have to choose and scan in some photos of me doing family things with my grandparents, because I was really close to them my whole life and that's part of the video. I have some cute ones. There, I picked them, now I just have to scan them. Ugh, I don't feel like doing THAT right now.
Well, that's my story about my WILD party night! I need to have some more of these. Or just stay excited about my project. My point is that I finally see an end in sight of al of this editing. I know where my project is going!! I might have it done so I can get money in the fall!! And then tackle my next huge ambition, a dirt cheap science fiction film!

Tuesday, December 08, 2009

Juniper, a fuzzy glimmer in ma eye!

This blog won't be all about Juniper, but since he will be the big new change in my life I should mention him, and he does deserve the title. I am having trouble getting to sleep, so here I am, wanting to blog because I read some good ones today.

Juniper is a dilute orange and white tabby kitten. No, not a MAN, I'm not moving a human male into my apartment. Just this sweet very cute kitten from the country, someone who's been around a little dog and hopefully will fall in love with my little dog and I'm hoping will make me being gone less stressful for my pup. My pup has been barking while I've been gone, more than he used to when we had Schrodinger. Sooo, well we'll just see what happens when he has a friend. Either way he used to get more exercise when he played with a cat all day, and I think he needs someone to play chase games with.

But also, I love cats. I'm not a cat person, more of a dog person, but I admire the different traits of a cat that you can't get with dogs. Like head nuzzling and purring and the insistent meow of a cat when you're not quick enough to sling out some grub. And they way they always look out the windows for hours, staring at the birdies and daydreaming of kitty carnage! Beneath the cute kitty fur beats the heart of a killer!

So I have to get ready for him to come home this weekend, if all goes as planned. Scrub out the litterbox so it doesn't have Schrods smell on it, clean the bowls and clean the apartment. Get a couple brand new toys for him, something on a string. I still have catnip from Schrodinger, but kittens aren't interested in catnip. Only grown up cats like catnip. At least, that has been my experience. I don't know why that is.

I'm a little bit daunted by the idea of breaking in a brand new baby! Kittens are tremendously difficult characters. Schrodinger was always trying to kill me when he was small. Either way I am not going into this assuming he will be all sweetness and light. I know I'm going to end up with scabby arms, it's just a given.

Anyway, that's the poop on the new kitten!

In OTHER news, I saw this terrible news story today, with an accompanying video! Zikerria Bellamy, a 17 year old African American Transwoman, was applying at a McDonalds in Orlando Florida this summer to be a shift manager. The manager taking her application made her fill in the male/female gender box and got upset when she marked down "male." This is the voicemail she got from one of the managers later, saying "We do not hire faggots." Have a listen:

UGH! How am I going to indulge my sick cravings for fries and "100% beef" with this injustice tainting my already dodgy meal choice?

It really makes me think about how many times I have seen a visible trans person working in customer service. Once! My mom and I met a transman at a PetLand/Cetra/Smart/Idontrecall who was well into transition but still just those whisps of the past were in his voice. It's similar to how rarely I see a butch dyke working in customer service. No, not quite, I must admit I have seen more than one butch dyke doing customer service work. But I do remember what it felt like to have someone be all up on my qualifications until they meet me and see the short short hair and the boy clothes. Butchphobia kinda straddles the line between transphobia and homophobia. On one hand, it is because you are obviously a lesbian, and on another, it's because you don't fit in with the gender binary.

Apparently Morgan Freeman was born to play Nelson Mandela. At least, that is what the television is telling me today. When you go crazy, as in a full blown psychosis of either the manic or depressed variety (I've never had depressive psychosis but it must suck!) the nurses always ask if you are getting messages off of the television. Yes. Yes I do, and have, and will. Right now it is telling me that hoarding can be solved by the aid of a clean up crew and 1 800 Got Junk.

Actually, my mother has been learning a whole arsenal of new lingo from A&E to apply to my life. Her favorite right now is Hoarders, as she believes I am one. I think I am messy, but not a hoarder. All the same she has started making jibes at me. A case in point: When helping tidy she asked me "Are you saving these menstrual pads or will you let me throw them away?" Before you get grossed out, they were not lovingly arranged on my bookcase, or even strewn across the floor, they were IN the garbage BY the toilet! They were clearly on their way out! And I'm not one of those artists that uses menstruation as part of their practice. My response was a plaintive "Muuum!"

HOWEVER, she does have a point. I know this has been an ongoing complaint in my blog, that I must clean, but I really do have to clean!! I let it build up until even the fire department takes issue. OKAY, not always, but in Vancouver the fire marshal came into my apartment while I was gone (the landlord gave us no warning) and said it was a hazard. And it was because it was two rooms and too much stuff. But it's more reasonable now. No boxes everywhere. But there is paper around my hallway, and things to trip over in the night, and if there's going to be a baby here something has to change!

I'm just hoping she doesn't take her cues from Intervention. I really don't want to be sent to Palm Springs to recover from marijuana use/abuse. Or DO I? Nah, I'm not fancy enough to get to Palm Springs, I'd be in Calder here in Saskatoon. I don't wanna go to treatment! I just want to be a responsible party-er.

My psych nurse got the lady who runs dual diagnosis groups to call me, but they are all during work hours except for one I could go to on the 31st. But LADY! That is NeW YEaRS! I'm for sure not going to quit drinking/toking then!

Monday, November 30, 2009


I got my H1N1 shot today, it took me 23 minutes for the entire process, I went with my Grandparents and because I was with them I got to go into the old folks lane and get a needle in my arm within three minutes of walking in the door. Then we had to sit around and wait while watching this giant projection of a middle aged white lady telling us all about the immunization process. And some guy in a head set pacing back and forth in front of all the people waiting for fifteen minutes each. The woman explained that we were waiting because the really bad reactions seem to happen in the first fifteen minutes of getting the shot.

It was a teeny tiny but long needle, and the vaccine was kind of milky white fluid. Apparently it is made with egg whites. They recommend you move your arm around to prevent soreness, which I thought I did well enough but already it's a killer if I raise my arm up. Owieya!

I hope it doesn't hurt a lot more tomorrow because I have to do some more mail out stuff at work tomorrow. A cranky left arm wouldn't be a great idea. Still, not getting the shot at all would really suck.

I have a sneaking suspicion I did have H1N1. I was really sick this summer. And it came back after being gone for a week. And it came back worse than before! I thought I was going to die, I kept coughing so hard I would pee, and I would just lay there coughing and peeing and feeling miserable. Is that H1N1? I don't know. Whatever it was, there should be a vaccine against it!

My cousin said she couldn't believe that I got the shot and that it was death! I was a little shocked.

I know there's a lot of people saying they are not getting the shot. For all kinds of reasons. I know some people can't for a few reasons, but some people seem to be buying into this anti-science propaganda about the vaccine being used as some form of population control. But if it was going to kill a bunch of people, wouldn't all these other people who have already gotten it be dying off about now? I know two pregnant ladies who got theirs a long time ago and they're still kicking around.

Oh well. So far the worst that has happened to me with this shot is this sore freakin' arm! It feels like I've been punched! By a shetland pony! It's SO out of proportion with the actual pain of the injection.

Still, at least she didn't draw a bunny on my arm and say "And now we're going to feed the bunny" and put the needle in it's mouth. That would really piss me off. If that was the case I would tell everyone to stay away from the immunization clinics! Ha!

Now I just have to dodge the H1N1 bullet for the next two weeks and I will be A OK! No sickness for me!

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Fruit Flies

An update on the Fruit Fly Crisis of Oh Nine.

Well, they are now located in two areas of the house, my kitchen, in particular the sink/garbage area, and the bathroom, specifically my wastebasket. I still haven't made traps, because I'm a goon. I should make a teeny tiny snare line.

My grandpa once told me how he snared a little rabbit when he was in the seminary and got the cafeteria lady to cook it for him because he missed home. I always thought that was such a cute story.

There are hordes of fruit flies, and they don't just stay in those two places, they go on expeditions to find new sources of food for their larvae. Ugh! Of course fruit fly larvae are so tiny. Still, gross.

Once my roommate Anne tried to make a fruit fly trap by leaving out a glass of rum, but our other roommate Christie noted that the fruit flies had turned it into their own counter top cabana. That was during the Vancouver garbage strike of 97, when EVERYWHERE was filled with fruit flies. I mean, one trap wasn't going to do too much.

I'm sleepy. I've been working 10 - 5:30 except for wednesday. And I think my schedule will change a bit from week to week. It's more hours than I was doing before, but I'm not doing too badly I don't think.

Anyway, I will write more about how I am doing tomorrow or something, because there are other things going on in my life that deserve some writing about.

And I will get supplies for those traps tomorrow!

Sunday, November 22, 2009

No Privacy since I was Twenty-One

It's been ten years of blogging, secret blogs to start, then sometimes I let people I know read them. Then I started my first blog when I was nuts. BUT, I went back to blogging with my real name after that. The Vancouver Years, Part Two.
It was all an experiment. I don't know if it actually gives me support, I am only sometimes actively involved in commenting and interacting with other blogs. It is a great way of feeling plugged into the disability community online. Which is a pretty wicked blogging community.
I guess I am thinking about privacy ever since I read about that woman who lost her disability insurance claim (for severe depression) just because she smiled and did some fun things in some photos on Facebook. But what the hell? Did they want her to be slashing herself on Facebook or something? How can you evaluate someone's mental health based on some photos? Can my mom do that next time she gets worried about me, email the jpegs to my pdoc that prove commitment is the only solution? I mean honestly.
I do sometimes worry about the privacy I have given up by writing honestly about my life on here. Anyone could come along and judge me based on any number of things, my drug use, my bipolar disorder, hypergraphia, even just that I'm an unrepentant butch dyke. But fuck em. I do get a kick out of keeping a blog, even if I haven't been the best writer these days. And in a lot of ways I do feel like these personal details are part of my politics. How can I talk about mad rights if I am too afraid to explore the vagaries of my grey matter?
So I have a new job, and I am pretty happy about this. I had my first day on Friday and I go back tomorrow! It's 35 hours a week, which is perfect because 40 is too much for me for some reason. It's an office type job in a Queer environment, so I really feel comfortable. I didn't exactly feel comfy saying I was a dyke at my last job.
Which is a bad sign, I think.
I'm staying clean for the weekdays I think, or as clean as possible. I don't have cash because I spent all of my last cheque already and I haven't gotten paid from this job yet. And when I do get paid it won't be very much because I won't have worked a full two weeks. Money is a strange invention of human kind. Stupid little pieces of paper and coins pretending to represent gold. ANYWAY, I don't have anything to spare on smokeable fun, so it looks like I'm going to be jonesing and feeling frustrated this week. Who knows though, maybe if I get through a few days of being sober, I will want to stay so for a while.
In fact I am thinking about being straight edge for a month, just to get everything bad out of my body and you know, kinda cleanse myself. See what it's like to not do any drinking or drugs for a LONG period of time. And a Month is pretty long for me. It might inspire me to stay sober. Or to use far more sparingly than before.
It's a thought.
In totally other news, me, my mum, our two dachshunds and mum's golden retriever went out to the country for a walk. And Arthur disappeared. He had found a porcupine and was going after it repeatedly and barking and getting pissed because he was hurt and he wanted to hurt what was hurting him back. So anyway we drove back into town straight to the small animal clinic at the University. He had 300 to 400 quills in his mouth (lips and gums), face, chest, front legs and paws!! Poor Arthur.

Saturday, November 07, 2009


And I have no phone. But for now I still have internet. I am doing alright, I keep misplacing my meds though which means I miss doses because I either have to get out of the house fast or are crashing and not awake enough to go looking for them. Either way this must be remedied! Right now they are by the phone, which is a silly place for them because with no phone I never go over there.
Okay, NOW they are beside the computer.
I am going to get myself all prettied up soon and go on the prowl. Looking for some hottie to take home and do naughty things with. I haven't done that in a while though, and my shyness prevents me from pouncing. I've missed all kinds of girl on girl opportunities through shyness. It's a terrible thing to deprive the world of more lesbian sex just because you don't know how to ask someone if you can kiss them.
The OTHER thing that gets in the way of my girl on girl action is I like super femmey girls, and it's hard to ID them as queer sometimes, which puts them out to no end.
On a totally different note, Pumpy, my halloween pumpkin, was left to rot just a wee bit too long in my house and has now caused an infestation of fruit flies. They have yet to just die off, because their food source is gone, but they are just hanging around, trying to think of something else to eat. It's a bit disturbing, I don't trust them in the least and I think they have designs on my coca-cola. It's my coke dammit!
I didn't win the 50 Million Lotto Max draw, but someone in Manitoba did, which is almost like someone in Saskatchewan winning, which is almost like me winning. Ha ha!
It's a beautiful day outside. I am waiting for my mother to get online and talk to me. I think we were going to move some stuff over to my house.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Love Spell is Finished!!! Now what? Where is she?

I finished burning my Love Spell candle. It has gotten to a point where I can no longer safely burn it. In fact, the last time I burned it I ended up catching a whole bunch of hot wax in my hands to keep it from hitting my clothes or the carpet.
This might seem like a bad omen, but hot wax is what turned me onto S/M in the first place.
It's one of those spells to attract an as yet unknown mate. Not on anyone specific. Although I did intend to bring someone into my life with specific qualities.
But it was funny, when I was working on the qualities in a partner I wanted, I was thinking a lot about my bipolar disorder and what kind of person would be able to handle my illness.
It's a depressing thought that my bipolar disorder impacts my relationships, but it does.
And the stigma keeps people away, even though the majority of the time I'm sane. Sane and sexy! LOL.
I hear some people like their partner's hypomania because of all the wild sex.
It's a perk I guess, but I don't go into hypomanias very often.
Oh man, I just found out there is a guy in the neighborhood Schrody went missing who has been abducting cats and torturing and killing them. It's really sickening, and the police know about him but aren't doing anything. Saskatoon police are so worthless, when have they ever done anything for our community???? They piss me off. ANYWAY, I'm disturbed because I don't want to have intrusive thoughts about my cat's demise. I am pretty sad.
OH YES! AND I lost my job. That makes me depressed too, but I am applying for other jobs and with some luck I will be working at least over Christmas. All the jobs I'm applying for so far are temporary.
I am thinking about going back to school to become a paralegal. I still want to make art, but I need to make money too. I dunno, I have to get it together by January if I want to take the 10 month legal admin assistant course which is a prerequisite for the paralegal program, which is only six months! BUT I need a job that will be easy to get, as in there would be lots of opportunities out there when I have to come back to the workforce from a video project. SOOOOO, I kinda think I'm going to go for a nine month Admin Assistant diploma instead. We'll see, either way I would need to secure funding from my band before I could proceed with getting educated in office shit. And the Saskatoon Health Region has a lot of jobs for people with that diploma.
Anyway, I may as well hit post before I bore you to tears with some other thing I'm thinking about!

Monday, October 19, 2009

I am the Narwal, Coo coo ka choo!

I have always wanted to go narwal watching, the unicorns of the sea. So cute! I am thinking of saving up money for a trip to go see them. I don't know when, maybe 2010? I know 2012 my Dad and I want to go to the Mayan ruins and see what happens. I hope we still do that, I've never traveled with my father. I mean, we've both been in certain cities at the same time for art related reasons, but we've never taken a trip together. At least, not since I was very small.
And my memory isn't so good from when I was that small.
But back to traveling. When my Mum and I were in Wick we saw some Puffins flying and making the cutest noises, and also standing on a rock. It was amazing, Puffins! They are also cute!
Whenever my family and I would go up north to the cabin my Grandma would get out her Field Guide to North American Birds and she and my Mom would identify which birds they saw and talk about them. They also do this with plants.
I do this with the paranormal. What type of hauntings, types of UFOs, wondering if Chupacabra is real and if so if it is an alien or some military experiment gone awry.
I also like to talk with people about various psychiatric medications, what they look like, what they do, what was your favorite and what really sucked.
Back to the Narwals. I remember once in Elementary school we got pieces of yarn and taped them to the wall to show how long types of whales were. I remember being suitably impressed by them all. And I always giggled at the Sperm Whale. The poor Sperm Whale.

My cousin Luke once wrote a paper for school whose first line was "The common vole is not a mouse it is a vole."
Voles are pretty cute. I have a soft spot for rodents.
The cutest thing I have ever seen was when I was reunited with my lost hamster William. He was in my backpack when I was outside and when I got home he wasn't there anymore. And I cried and made a poster the next morning to find my hamster when I found a sign that said "Found: 1 White Hampster." I called the number and walked across the apartment complex where I found my sweet William with GINOURMOUS cheeks! He came home and spent the next half hour pulling bread crusts out of his cheeks. They can pack away a lot of shit man! That's intense. I wish I could hide food in my cheeks, that's a handy trick. I was in grade two, in case you were wondering why I made such a bad error in regards to thinking a hamster would stay in a backpack.
My interest in identifying wildlife reminds me to tell you about this book you should buy called Lesbian National Parks & Services: Field Guide to North America by Ranger Shawna Dempsey and Ranger Lorri Millan. I'm the lesbian bottom in the lower vertebrates section! It's a pretty funny book and has practical lesbian information for life in the bush!

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Morning Internetland

I was being interviewed by CBC (and I still don't know if my story will get on the radio) but at one point the interviewer asked me what i thought my stories said about myself.
And I realized I write my blog mostly to talk to myself. I mean, I always wanted my blog to reach other people, but in the early days with no visitors I wrote mostly for myself. Just to see how I progressed in life I guess.
It's been an intense five years with this blog. And I still mostly write for myself. I used to keep diaries all the time, since I was nine. And then ten years later I started a blog long gone on Open Diary. I was working on the concept of private thoughts going out into the ether. And I've continued it since.
I do keep some things private. Surprisingly. Not a lot, but some.
I am taking the day off today. I need a mental health day. Just one day this week I can be irresponsible. Be hungover from my journey to Specklebelly's offsale. Want to hear something totally rude that happened to us? We got home and were drinking our beers and then my cuz found a beer that had a puncture in it and was half full. What the hell Specklebelly's??? We was ripped off. She wanted to share it, but who knows what is in that beer? Even if it is just some saliva germs, that is still gross when it is not someone you know.
I want to make a paranormal investigation video. I need to find at least two more people who want to stake out Cranberry Flats on October 22, the third anniversary of when Laurel and I saw those ufos. I hope it can be done!

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Appropriation Related Death

My facebook home page has been chock full of articles about the recent sweatlodge deaths in Sedona Arizona. And so I feel I have to say something about it, because it is such an example of how deadly appropriation of culture can be. Especially when Capitalism is thrown into the mix.
To start with, it was a weekend retreat that cost $9000 a head. Sixty plus people were all in one lodge. It used PLASTIC as part of the covering. And instead of doing four rounds they stayed in there for TWO hours. And let's not forget the name, "Spiritual Warriors."
My Uncle John has been running a sweatlodge since I was a little girl. I have really good memories of going to his sweats, I haven't been in a couple years, but I will go again I'm sure. I was little when I first went to a sweat. I remember my cousin Luke and I were walking on a mound of old sweat rocks and a man told us to get off of there. They were all jagged. And they made this funny sound, like styrofoam almost, because a rock changes after it's been in the sweat. Inside was an intensely spiritual and personal experience, and I loved the Cree songs and the praying and the lights and the rattle. And at the end, they would open up a can of berries and we would eat them. Oh yeah, and one other crucial thing about his sweats, and all sweats I've been to, is that we would drink lots of water between every round. Rounds didn't last that long, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes. And he would know when it was too difficult for someone or too hot and usually the only really physically intense moment was just before the door was opened.
Even if no one had died or gotten ill at Spiritual Warrior, the fact that my culture is being exploited for profit by a white man oozing privilege makes my blood boil. An experience with the spiritual is not something that can be bought. It shouldn't come with a $9000 price tag, or even a $250 price tag, like some unlucky local white person paid. Sweats are free, you just need to bring tobacco and/or cloth (at least around this here neck of the plains) if you need them to pray for some specific healing.
My Uncle John likes to google "Sweat Lodge Deaths" and tell us different ones he reads about. Usually it's the same kind of thing, used plastic instead of canvas for the covering or staying in for a really long time. Really DUMB mistakes like forgetting people need oxygen to breathe and that heat can KILL YOU!
James Arthur Ray is the self help author of this terrible tragedy. He has appeared on Larry King, Oprah, and The Secret, according to his website. He is the President/CEO of "James Ray, Inc." I think he is a great example of a shining turd. What do YOU think?

I think the Anti-deps kicked in this morning

I was coming home from work feeling happy. And I noticed that it has been a while since I've been happy. Nothing major has changed in my life, I have worked the same job since March, and I've been living in this coop for about a year and a half. My dog is the same dog, but somehow all these things combined suddenly made me feel good. And a little grown up even. I spent all my twenties doing jobs that paid ten bucks an hour, and suddenly I am making just a titch over twenty dollars an hour. I have health benefits and a company pension. In other words, a real adult job. I'm living in a much bigger nicer 1 bedroom apartment than I have ever lived in on my own. When I think back to my apartment in bad manors I realize how squalid a life I lived there.

When I was a teenager Vancouver was the promised land, I would get a girlfriend and a nice apartment and be a famous video/filmmaker and walk on the beach everyday. Instead, well, you can just read my early entries in this blog to see what my life was like there. I was poor and hungry and didn't have good psychiatric care, as in an actual psychiatrist. I felt depressed every winter and felt very alone. And I could only have pet rats. Now I can't have pet rats, but my dog has a longer lifespan than a rat and I needed the commitment.

I think the antideps kicked in. I've actually had a very good life here in Saskatoon and now that I am on Wellbutrin in addition to my Celexa I can appreciate it more.

I've also realized, after being single for so long, that I don't NEED a relationship. I would be happy if I fell in love with someone who loved me too, but I'm coming to a point where I have discovered I can be perfectly fulfilled on my own. I miss sex with a partner, and I miss cuddling, and other things, but I have enough joy in my life that it's not painful to be without it.

Anyway, I feel good, and I'm doing well, and I am hoping that this signals the start of some extended stability.

Sunday, October 04, 2009

The Sufferin' Dufferin

When I lived in vancouver in the late 90's early Oughts, I used to sometimes go with friends to the Sufferin' Dufferin. I saw drag shows there. I saw some naked men dancing with elastics for cockrings and white tube socks. I mean, does that count as naked though? I mean, they were wearing socks. Can you be naked with socks on? And do cockrings count as a piece of apparel, even if they are just rubber bands?

I'm 31 years old and I still have these questions.

Anyway, I have heard all kinds of wild stories about the dufferin and people's adventures there. I never saw anyone have their dick out for very long. It was such a funny place. I once caught a poster of a naked man and ended up giving it to a grateful 'mo friend.

But my crowning glory, my supreme achievement at the Dufferin, was on their pull tabs. One night I went out to meet a couple of friends at the Sufferin' Dufferin and one of them was trying so hard to win at pull tabs. And then I went and put in two dollars and won a hundred bucks.

I don't often win. Usually I lose all my gambling money. But once I won.

And he was so pissed off. I bought us all a beer.

It's long gone now. The money and the Dufferin. And I haven't been to Vancouver in months and months.

The Lotus is gone too, or at least, the lesbian version, I remember they always used to play that Spin Spin Sugar song while I was looking for The One. Out of a lot of drunk lesbians in the blacklight. Now they just have Lick upstairs? Do they? Heck, I don't even know anymore.

I never found a girlfriend at the Lotus. I found three at school and one at a festival through a friend and once my mom introduced me to someone I slept with a few times. I have never picked up in a gay bar. It's always nice going for the view though.

And I never picked up at the Dufferin. It was mostly the enclave of boys. Maybe that's why it was so fun, I could watch other people get all sexy with each other and not have any pressure on myself. Boys and Boys is hot. Why else do so many lesbians like gay porn?

Friday, October 02, 2009


Did you know that I wrote a blog on here last night and it vanished, probably because I was drunk and never hit publish before I shut my computer down for the night.

I've gotten to the point where I don't care about getting a girlfriend anymore. The ones I had weren't the nicest, except for a couple, and I don't even know what a relationship would contribute to my life. I haven't ever been in a monogamous relationship either and the longest relationship I had was only a year and a month.

Maybe I'm not suited for relationships. I am kind of used to the single life.

I don't really remember how I got into relationships before. I think it all started by asking to kiss certain beautiful women.

I just finished watching Coffy. Coffy Baby, sweet as a chocolate bar!

It's drink a straight bar gay tonight at Whiskey Jacks. I am going out to see if I can meet anyone cute, smart, and funny. Or just to be among homos! I even dressed up for it, I am pumped, I have no pink but there is some pink on my purple shirt. And I am wearing rainbow cuffs. And as usual I have tattoos and stretched earlobes and a secret hood piercing that GLITTERS! And short hair. I look like a dyke in other words, so I hope that makes up for the fact I'm not sporting a pink item of clothing as per the instructions to build queer solidarity in the midst of a normally straight enclave of drinkers.

Besides, Lavender/Purple is much more a lesbian color than Pink. In old timey days lesbians used to wear violets to signal to the other sapphic sisters.

So maybe I will ask to kiss someone tonight. I don't know!

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

The smell is mostly gone

Hello again. I think I have successfully linked fit of pique to my newer google account. I am getting tired of signing in and out of that account just to blog here.

I have been cleaning my apartment and making significant progress. Took out some trash and threw out smelly stuff and picked up in the bathroom. I might stay up and do more, like the kitchen. I'm actually getting really inspired by the idea of cleaning up my home.

I am definitely feeling the stress of realizing I am 31 years old and need to get my shit together. Like doing my taxes. And taking better care of myself and my surroundings. I feel like I have been failing at being an independent adult, and I definitely don't want to end up in The Home again. Or worse, Mum's Basement. That really sucks, you can never just be roommates because you've gotten locked into one dynamic.

I am boiling water for dishes because I need a plumber to come in and look at the hot water heater. And I won't get a plumber in until I can get this place looking decent again.

But really, I think I am doing some kind of nesting so that I can start to make some changes in anticipation of the next big romance. With . . . well who knows? But I really feel like I am not the best girlfriend in the world when I'm letting these small things get out of control. Seemingly small things. They add up.

And it takes away from my ability to create. So I need to nest and edit this winter. Well, I hope the editing won't take much longer.

Minor Mood Fluctuation

It's not SO BAD. It's just a minor feeling of sadness. I will be okay. I forgot to take my antidepressant this morning, and didn't take it on Sunday morning because I had to go to sleep and it would have kept me up. So here I am feeling low. LOW. Poop. But I think I will just try to do one thing this evening that will make me feel better.

I am going to clean my apartment.

I should! It's such a nice apartment and I need to get it in order. When I come home I sit and sit and sit in the living room or throw my clothes on the floor in the bedroom and crawl into bed. My bed sheets are dirty! i am a dirty girl! The bathroom is gross and the kitchen has dirty dishes and the living room is strewn with papers and XLR cables and other detritus. I am a detritus girl!

At least I am not a horder, otherwise there would be serious trouble. No, I have stuff, but not immense amounts of it. I don't come into my apartment and tunnel around to the bed and the tv and the toilet. I am not a lesbian gopher. I just sometimes have trouble seeing the floor! And I can't do tarot card readings until the place is cleaned . . .

and till I get the cards from Mum's house. I should recharge them, or whatever that is when you clean the energy and make it yours again. Recharging? Like a battery?

I am wanting to make some new short low/no budget video! I am fishing for ideas out of the ether. So far I haven't come up with something solid. That's what you get for sniffing ether.

There must be something I want to say, besides Hi My Name is Thirza and I am a Pot head. I mean, that's a really boring idea for a video. It's boring enough living that life without devoting five minutes to it! Ha ha! No, I need to think of something entertaining and political and intelligent and hopefully lesbian because there is more queer girls at those festivals. I'm still seeking a mate, I am expanding beyond Saskatchewan.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

A blog as Suggested by Friends

I asked folks on facebook for some topics to write about. And this is kind of what came out of it.

The Engineering students at the U of S used to have this annual event where they would get a sex worker and have her ride a horse naked across campus, it was called the Godiva ride and it ended sometime in the late eighties. While I was looking this up I also found that other universities do or did the Godiva ride.

And I always wondered about the woman, like who was she, where did she come from, and what was her story, was she safe?

Next topic: DRUGS!!!

I don't have much to say about drugs today. I am taking about four psych meds a day, in various pill formations. Along with iron and some other medication. I think I am happier now, which is good, and still stable. Having strange dreams though. I had a dream I attacked this guy who tagged me out during an army entrance lazer tag competition. I threw him to the ground and then bashed his head into the ground twice and then was shocked I did such a thing and feeling guilty and evil and yucky for the rest of the dream. And everyone in my dream told me it was a bad thing. And then I somehow stumbled into the bedroom of my sleeping ex girlfriend and freaked her out and there was a party going on in her living room for her birthday. BUT her heels were too high. It was a STRANGE dream, and even she told me I was evil, not only for smashing this guy's face, but also for coming into her bedroom when she doesn't even talk to me anymore. I'm glad it was all a dream.

If you want to help change the world sign up for the AIDS walk here in Saskatoon on the 20th of September and the link is HERE. Proceeds go to AIDS Saskatoon and The Avenue Community Centre for Sexual and Gender Diversity.

Saturday, September 05, 2009

Hide Under the Awkward Stairs

It is my night off, having worked from 7 am to 2:30 pm. I almost saw a movie, but didn't. I went to the fireworks show at the riverbank and was impressed. I also went to the local gay bar, Divas, where I danced a bit and mostly sat in the corner drinking various alcoholic drinks and thinking what it would take to bust up the cute lesbian couple grinding in the corner. Or to join in. Such are the dirty thoughts going through my mind.

I do have some kind of novelty going on with myself, what with being into some pretty hardcore sadomasochistic practices like bloodplay and electroplay. I don't know if I could do bondage though. I'd have to really trust the person. And PLUS the sparkly hood piercing I have in. That has to win me some glamour points on the sexual scale of awesomeness.

It glints and glimmers in the light. It's truly a work of art. And my sex drive HAS gone up, so I think it might be working. AND my Wellbutrin is supposed to pick me up too.

Anyway, these two laydeez were so hot, I would have gone home with both of them, but they looked like they were deflecting other's sexual energy all night. Sometimes when they danced these boys would come and try to dance with them, and then they would lean over and say something in the guys ear and he would dance away looking semi dejected. But if a woman had danced up to them, would something different have happened? Maybe not, but it was enough to keep me curious.

There was ANOTHER cute girl at the bar too, and then ANOTHER after that, so I am feeling a bit better about the prospects in Saskatoon.

I still miss my one BIG love, but it's over and no matter how much I try to fan the ashes, it cannot be revived. I BROKE it!! And it wasn't even that committed in the first place, she was living with her boyfriend after all! I mean, breaking that kind of tenous forbidden bond doesn't really take MUCH, and I broke it big time with all my fucking manic emails. Dammit dammit dammit!

If you could see me, I would also be stomping my foot about this point.

Like a little Rumplestiltzkin kicking my own way into hell.

Such is the drama of a butch with bipolar.

Look out! It's bipolar butch! And she has been celibate TOO LONG!

But it was nice getting out and watching some women far younger than I bump and grind and generally put on a show while being totally into each other. But it did make me miss relationships. I've never had a girlfriend I could bump and grind with, they all had various issues attached to it. One didn't like PDAs, one had a boyfriend and didn't want to make him jealous, one wanted to keep her "options" open. It was all pretty miserable. I just wanted someone I could hump on the dance floor and not have to use a dental dam with. And not have to worry that my toothbrush at her house was being farmed out to other nocturnal visitors of dubious hepatitis status.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Posters of the Missing

My cat is still missing. It will be a week on Tuesday. I really miss him. I keep thinking about him and hoping he didn’t meet an ugly end at the hands of some cruel twisted individual(s).

There is entirely too much evil in the world. I was reading about the highway of tears and how now they think they have a suspect in the murders, although so far they are only looking for one woman’s body, and that one woman is white. For those who don’t know what the highway of tears is, it’s a stretch of highway running from Prince George to Prince Rupert where for the last 40 years primarily aboriginal women have been going missing while hitchhiking.

The suspect is in prison for murdering his brother. The police are digging up the property and looking in a well that smells like diesel and might have been used to burn something. They even have special dogs that can locate remains, and a ground penetrating radar device.

I could never work in forensics or criminology. I think it would be a very bleak feeling dealing with that kind of evil day in and day out. Bleakness is a terrible feeling. That kind of loss of belief in human goodness.

There ARE good people in the world still. I know this. My cat could have adopted himself into another family of nice people. But I still think he would come home because they wouldn’t know him well enough to know he likes Friskies.

A missing cat and a missing woman are not the same things. I know this. There won’t be an investigation into where my cat went, and if someone did do something to him, he or she (but probably he) will most likely get away with it. But then it makes me think about all the unsolved cases of missing and murdered Aboriginal women and how sometimes it seems as if our lives are equal to those of cats. Just more faces peering out of faded posters, dotting the landscape, reminding us that we are not safe or protected.

I wish my cat had been an indoors cat. I feel guilty for letting him go outside this summer at mum’s. And now I’m in limbo, wondering if I will ever see his sweet face again.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Schrodinger!!! :(

My beautiful Schrodinger cat is missing!! He could be alive or dead, we really don't know. In the meantime we are keeping check of the cats at the SPCA and handing out flyers and putting up posters and going up and down alleys calling his name.

I know I always talk about my dog Mister here, but Schrodinger is like the salt to Mr's pepper. He was a best friend of mini dachshunds and played so well with them. He would wrestle and kick and grab them by the head and he could be sweet too, bathing them or just snuggling with them. And he was very intuitive about illnesses, one time I was sick for a week and he stayed right next to me nearly the whole time.

I'm really sad about my missing kitty. He was my first pet when I moved from Vancouver, I got him as a little kitten when he would try to kill me all the time. I just about strangled him! And then he got snugglier over the past couple years and now he is missing!

I feel like a bad mom for letting him go outside at my mum's for the summer. But he really did like the outdoors life. I hope to god he is on an adventure and will come home soon.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Internetted and Recovering

I finally have the internet again. And I am also recovering from one of the worst colds I have had in a while. I was a ball of snot, coughing and coughing and just drenched in mucus and sweat. It was godawful!

I also recently got pierced, again, the same piercing I had when I was nineteen, a hood. I haven't been able to do anything with it besides clean it and wince when I bump it wiping my bum. So I can't really report if it is improving my sex life yet. But it did the last time I had this piercing, so I'm pretty excited. The procedure of getting pierced itself was obviously very painful. Having a large needle and then some jewelery shoved through your privates is never very fun, unless you like that sort of thing. I don't so much but I do like the results.

Some things have changed. I've started taking Wellbutrin in addition to my Celexa, and it seems to be cheering me up at any rate. It's supposed to bring back my sex drive, so far the jury is still out on that, especially since I can't do much with a healing hood piercing. I've also been seeing a counselor for the past few weeks, and that's been helping a bit with some issues I've talked about here.

I shot some more footage for my video and now need to finish writing the narration and record it, and then finish editing, and then write my final report, and I'm DONE! My first half hour video. I must say I am nervous about keeping attention for half an hour. It seems like an unruly time period for a short video artist. Rather, a video artist that makes shorts. Although I'm not super tall either. I really want this done soon because I would like to get my next grant. I'm working hard on it!

Oh man, at least I am finally feeling better. My nose isn't running so much anymore either, which is a relief. I was getting tired of snuffling and blowing it all the time. Thank god for kleenex with lotion!

Either way, I have to go to work today, so I should probably go meet my mom and do some stuff and get to work. I will write more when I have some time.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Praise for the Chubby Girls~!

A close friend whose body image has changed since gaining weight feels bereft of possible companions. I have been trying to explain that sexuality and sexiness is not tied in with weight as much as this friend thinks.
Fat girls are yummy and delicious and I am saddened when I hear big girls feel like they won't be able to have a sex life until they are 20 pounds lighter. Sex can happen at any size!
I am a fat girl. I got teased by my family when it started, because of the meds I have to take. But I grew to love my body, and see it as a beautiful thing. And the great thing is I gained a cup size!
Seriously though, sex is not exclusively the domain of the young and thin. Great sex can happen to anyone!

I just wish it was me having sex. I have been celibate for half a decade, to be completely honest, and it makes me feel inadequate. And not having as much experience makes me feel embarrassed, at this advanced age. I've had a number of partners, but not much experience in long term relationships.

I like big butts and I cannot lie!

Been a long time since I got flogged too, I really should do something about this stalemate.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Before the Sun runs away again

I have a good feeling about the lottery numbers I picked. I think I will win something with them eventually.

I am currently looking after my mothers house and all it's many occupants. I just had to feed them.

I'd like to be a little less stupid sometimes. I feel like I keep making mistakes with my life. All kinds of mistakes. I guess that is what it means to be human.

Ew, there is dog slime all over this table from Arthur!!

I want to get married dammit, and I think I want kids. I have been hemming and hawing about it for years, always kinda like Mmmmmnnnnno. No. But then the last year its been a maybe. And I think I am getting close to the day I can say Yes.

As to how I will end up with kids, well, it is a little more complicated because I am a lesbian, and don't have a nearby supply of semen like a boyfriend or husband, just the sperm bank and possible donors I know. And then I have bipolar, which makes it even more complicated. I would have to get off my meds to have a baby, and boy oh boy was that bad the last time I went off them. And I'd rather not be recovering from a manic episode AND look after a newborn, just because I would be so tired!

So the next option would be for my partner to have a kid. The trouble is I DON'T have a partner. I'd rather raise children with a partner, even though I was raised by a single parent and know it can be done. I just don't want to be like Angelina Jolie and have a bazillion children! I think two would be the max I could do.

I think it would be about five years from now, when I'm a bit more ready. A kid! OMG! I am seeing all these little babies sprout up from my friends loins and it's a bit intense! Everytime I turn around it seems like someone else I know is pregnant.

The weather is really nice these days, we had some rain earlier today, but the sky is clearing up.

Well, I was going to write more, but I got distracted by things, and now I have to go out into the wild city to forage for some grub!

My grandparents used to have a grub box. I thought it had something to do with grubs, ew!

Monday, July 06, 2009

Beautiful Mess

There are things I need to change in my life in order to move on and become a better person. I've let things bother me to the point of wanting to die just to avoid my circumstances, and that's never good. I need some help, it's rough.

I think dying just to get out of this rut is a dumb idea, just for the record. I know it's dumb but in the past whenever major problems loomed, suicidal thinking was always there to entice me in it's cruel grip.

But it's a cruel thing to do to myself, and especially to the people around me.

I'm tired of being so depressed. And I'm tired of being down on myself. I really have to just get off my ass and start becoming the person I want to be. It's hard to do that! Why is change so hard? I would like this to be instant, but I know it's not to be yet.

The hardest part about having these addictions, pot and tobacco, is that it's everywhere and so easy to get and I am ambivalent about quitting altogether. I'm not so ambivalent about tobacco, I know I need to quit that, but the pot, just the idea of saying No More is so scary! I've come to depend on it to relax, and I need better coping skills for life.

I am a mess, it is true, but I am a beautiful mess.

Sunday, July 05, 2009

Heart Aches

Having a mood disorder makes me doubt my perceptions at times. Especially if I am in a mania. Those are no fun. Actually they are fun, but the ramifications of that much fun is quite staggering.
I knew one woman who tried to buy ten cars while she was manic because she thought she had an intense amount of money from the mania money fairies.
And that's the thing about mania, is that there's all the witnesses and evidence afterwards! And losing important friendships, and self respect, that's always hard. I hate losing control and writing whatever is coming out of my deep dark subconscious. Linking up all kinds of things in new ways that don't really make sense. Coming to conclusions that are totally wrong. Inventing stories to try and find out why things are happening and getting lost in them.
My guilt over my actions during mania has kept me in a mini self destructive loop, and the most upsetting thing is knowing I can't make things right, at least not between myself and the person I hurt. I feel badly about this, like she's a casualty of my insanity. Not like I was sitting next to her on a bus and stabbed and ate her. But still, bad. Just bad.
I shouldn't be beating myself up as much as I have been though. I am going to try and move beyond it!
On a totally different note, I've been reading all this Gossip that Michael Jackson had boyfriends. I feel badly that he felt he had to stay in the closet his entire life, not able to share who he loved. That is a sad way to live your life!

Friday, July 03, 2009

Detoxing from marijuana

I'm currently housesitting with my mother's menagerie and mine. There are three dogs in the house right now and two cats milling about. It's pretty crazy here yo.
I don't know if you have noticed, but I have merged posts from Bipolar and Disorderly into Fit of Pique. It now looks a bit more sensible, with the old posts from when I was crazy nicely merged with my recovery posts.
I miss my mom already! She's left me to go up north and fish, I wish I could fish! I like fishing. Fishing makes for entertainment and good dinners sometimes. We used to catch SO many fish! Mostly Pike. And the occasional pickerel.
Until the go barbless campaign came along. We debarbed all our tackle and from then on barely caught any fish. Pretty sad.
I'm in the process of change this year more than any other year, and it's been really HARD on me! Personal change is so difficult to achieve. I know I will grow more if I abandon the ways of doing things that have hindered me. But it's so scary to leave behind my crutches. I realize I have become dependent on certain things and that makes me upset. I never wanted to be dependent on anything. And it's not good for my health.
I am especially realizing that I need to be better to myself to deal with my bipolar disorder. I am better about getting the right amount of sleep, I go to bed earlier and I don't miss medication often. But there are other things I should be doing, like not drinking because it makes me depressed, and quitting the marijuana for a while, for long enough to see what difference it makes anyway. I really have questions about my potential without it, and I think those questions need to be answered.
And smoking, I really need to quit it. I started up AGAIN! Fucking hell, but then I am depressed and it is hard to quit while one is depressed. I hate depression.
I have an appointment to see my old counsellor next week, right now my psych nurse is checking in every week except she's on holidays, so it's back to the old counsellor.
I liked the old counsellor.
I'm worried I would make a bad girlfriend for someone at the moment just because I do need to learn how to live my life differently than I've been doing it. I have to admit some suicidal feelings were around a couple weeks ago, but I think the idea of living life DIFFERENTLY is preferable instead of crumpling it up like a scrap of paper and throwing it in the garbage. I can change, somehow. Starting with today. I can get to work and figure out why I've been allowing myself to fall so far short of my own expectations.
Anyway, I'm off to read some motivational online literature. I am thinking of going to an NA meeting this weekend. I might really need it. I smoked my last bit of pot and am going to detox and try life without it starting with one sober week.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Mad Pride

It is not Mad Pride here yet, I actually might have missed it, but the day, July 14, hasn't crept up on me quite yet.
It is hard to have Pride sometimes, especially in relation to being bipolar. It's a very unusual illness to have. The first thought after a manic psychosis episode for me is always "Oh my God none of it was REAL!"
The second, more depressing thought is "But some of it was, OMG! What did I do?"
And a third, more eerie thought is "But how will I remember what was real and what wasn't?"
For the most part I have it figured out.
Except for two things I heard. I'm pretty sure one was a hallucination. But the other one, I will never know.
I was walking home from the bar wearing a top hat and tails and as I walked through a residential area I heard a woman scream and then a gunshot, and then silence. I have no idea if it was real. I didn't stick around to find out, I just kept walking, and I think part of me knew I was crazy and not to pay attention. But it was weird, and I am still haunted by it. Was it real?

The other thing that happened is I was listening to a song on the radio, which had just come out, and this voice said "The story goes that in the end you'll be normal." I was just recovering from my episode and still thought "Fuck, was that real?" I've listened to the song many times since and never heard those words uttered, so it probably WAS a hallucination.

And then there were so many things that I wrote while I was going under, and I did this the first time too. It's pretty weird. Still I erased a lot of it, and some remains here. Like all of April. I forget the day I went in to the hospital, but I think it was around April 20th or so. And my birthday was shortly therafter, pretty glum birthday. I got a cake and some presents, and cards, and some of the patients scrounged change to get me a strawberry sundae from DQ. We got to get passes to walk to DQ or the store (usually for cigarettes). And even though we were supposed to stay by the ashtray, a lot of us went on walks down the meewasin valley trail. It was pretty weird. One time my friend was depressed and outside having a smoke on the trail when some uber tanned fit white women came running by and one said loudly "And that's where the FREAKS sit!"

I can't help much about my brain, well, actually that's not true. There's my cocktail of mind altering drugs I take, which are prescribed thank you very much. I have heard of people abusing some of the meds I am on. Which seems ridiculous to me because they are just psych drugs. Like the risperdone, who would take that if they didn't have to? It's a freakin antipsychotic!

I am not proud of all the things I do or say while I'm in such an altered frame of mind as a psychotic episode. But I am proud that I can stand in the company of other people dealing with similar issues who still find ways to thrive and build community and make glorious works of art and other contributions to society. And I am proud when I look at a friend with similar issues to me, and be able to say "Don't you hate it when . . . " And they can say "I know exactly what you mean."

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Today I quit smoking, again,

and it's been 9 hours of no smoking. I have been wearing step one of the patch and just waiting out the few cravings I've had. Mostly I have them whenever I start doing something that I have usually smoked while doing. Like writing. Or walking. Or waiting for the bus. stuff like that.

I updated all my quit meters and dates and times. I have no more cigarettes in the house.

Thursday, June 25, 2009


I'm sleepy. I don't have much of anything to say today. I slept all afternoon and then did some family things for a couple hours. I'm home now, about to go to bed. It's been a long day, even though I slept in the middle of it.
It was hot here today too!
The depression's going away, I can feel myself getting better everyday now.
Damn, I really have to go to bed. I hope to have a good day tomorrow, no work til later in the day! Yippee skippee!!

Monday, June 22, 2009

Update on my Guts

Well, as it happens I do have gallstones. I have to switch to a low fat diet (NOOOOO!) and wait and see if I have more problems. IF I do have more problems then it's surgery for me.

But that wasn't all, I also got a pelvic ultrasound and it turns out I have fibroids in my uterus which accounts for the heavy bleeding every period, and will get worse as they grow. NOT ONLY THAT! But I also have a cyst on my left ovary. I have another pelvic ultrasound scheduled for August, they expect it will go away because it is a simple cyst.

Anyway, oh joy! The funny thing is what freaked me out about the fibroids was worrying about not being able to be pregnant, which is so BIZARRE! I can get pregnant and have a normal kid even with fibroids in there, not that it will happen. But the idea that maybe I couldn't, that scared me. It's fine though. But funny that I panicked about it.

So there ends the medical mysteries of me. THANK GOD FOR Ultrasounds.

Anyway, it's almost time for bed but I wanted to update yall.

I am slowly recovering from the depression. It's feeling a lot better.

Sunday, June 21, 2009


Strange that I left this blog as being written by Thirza instead of Sarain, which is the name I went by for a while during my crazy time when I was still struggling with deciding to be a boy. I decided in the end to be a boy in a girl body, which is fine by me since I like getting fucked in the vagina and having boobs. I am a boy, but a bottom all the same. One more hole is more appealing to me than having a dick.
Still, I do feel I have masculine traits, and I'm trying to honour that more with some more gender bending. I was wearing a packer, like I mentioned before, and I would go out of the house dressed like a boy.
Which isn't much different than how I normally dress.
But things have changed. I didn't like how being a boy made me, especially in regards to how I behaved towards the woman in my life. I didn't like the idea of my female gender disappearing altogether either!
And I didn't like the idea of my boobs vanishing. I do like my boobs. I like being large chested. And I like how sensitive my nipples are, and I hear top surgery really deadens that sensation because they basically chop your nips off, trim them down, and sew them back on! Eeep!
And testosterone is irreversable. I can basically sum up my apprehension by saying I am not transsexual and am simply transgendered.
Which still puts me in a situation where I could be in danger. Masculine women are still targets of transphobia and homophobia. And I am all tattooed, I don't know if that makes me look like more of a hard case or what. I wish it did, then people would leave me alone.
I haven't been hassled since I was a teenager. I was a pretty radical dyke teen. I tried to start Aden Bowman's first queer group, but even with chips we didn't have a very big meeting.
I admire anyone who has the guts to be who they are in whatever way makes them feel comfortable, including getting transsexual related surgeries and hormone treatments. But Sarain is an old name and not mine really. I'm a Thirza, through and through. This is what makes me feel like myself.
I sometimes wonder if I will change my mind again down the line, but somehow I doubt it. My struggling with being transgender is somewhat laid to rest by living like a boy for six months or whatever it was. Now I'm simply a transgender lesbian.
My cousin who came out when she was 11 went back to being straight after six years, she said it was just a phase! I think six years is a long time for a phase. But what do I know? I went through a male phase.

Friday, June 19, 2009

A weekend of waiting . . .

I got in touch with the doctor's office. Currently I have no doctor, so I'm kind of floating around to different available doctors. They wouldn't tell me anything on the phone, I have to go in to talk about my results. My mom says they wait for you to have a major attack, where you're like, barfing and peeing at the same time and feel like you're going to die! And THEN they finally do surgery on you. Oh man! I hate pain. I mean, especially thinking you are going to die. I HAVE thought I was going to die a few times when I was getting panic attacks in college.

But all this fuss, and just knowing it is coming, and having to change my diet, oh man. I'm really NERVOUS about that. And then surgery itself, that scares me. But at the same time I imagine my poor ducts and something getting stuck in there, aaaah!

And I have to get a Partial Nail Avulsion on this ingrown toenail, which is a pretty gross sounding procedure. But someone I know had it and it's not that bad. I just don't know if Indian Affairs can pay for it.

I also have to go get my prescription changed, but that won't cost me any money. In fact, if I had Air Miles I could save up for Berlin!

Ein biere bitte!

I'm getting tired of castigating myself for things all the time. I have to get my head together. It's just that these changes I wanted to make haven't happened yet. I wrote all about them on Bipolar and Disorderly. Now I'm depressed and smoking again. I'm taking a break from drugs and alcohol for a while. Although summer always feels like a party time. But realistically if I want to keep on top of this crazy incurable bipolar disorder, I have to stay away from doing that stuff. Even just having a few beers is bad because it's a depressant, and lord knows I don't need more of that in my life.

And now I might have to get SURGERY! I hope none of the drugs they gives me interferes with my bipolar disorder medication. Like my risperdone will wake me up on the operating table. Ickky!

And what about this crushing depression? It's so fucking gross and makes me think bad things. I know it's going away, it feels like it's going away. But it's still a while before regular life is breathed back into me. At least a week longer.

Summer of Health Problems! Craptastic!

The entry in which Thirza's phone gets cut off

I have yet to hear the results of my ultrasound. I am expecting the worst. I was reading how gallstones form and it sounds an awful lot like my lifestyle. And I have talked to friends my age who have already HAD gallbladders removed.
Apparently you fart a lot while you recover. How embarrassing! I hope I am not recovering with some snotty stuck up person who will scold me for farting so much.
I'm recovering from some depression. It started because I was lowering my dose of antidepressant and my mood got destabilized. Which sucks because I was doing so well. But HOPEFULLY it will be going away soon, I already upped my antidep before the psychiatrist said it was okay. So I have another week or so before I will know for sure if this gets me back to normal.
Depression sucks. It makes everything seem so bleak.
I haven't been cleaning much either and that depresses me. It's terrible to come home to a messy house.
My phone line has been temporarily suspended! Fock! i don't know how much longer I will have the internet for!
I'm in trouble! Poopy! I need to learn to stay on top of bills.
My television got cut off a while ago too, I knew this was coming. Oh well.
Better luck next time.
I have made some videos since my blog was in limbo. I made a video called You Are A Lesbian Vampire. It is pretty funny and got a good review in NOW. It has screened in Toronto twice, Calgary once, and Vancouver this summer. I am hoping for more!
I got to go to the screening in Toronto, the premiere! That is when it got the good review.
I need to work on my videos more. What I also need to do is clean. My mum is picking me up this afternoon for some errands. I could do some work before then, especially since now I don't know when she is coming and can't call her!
Well I got shit to do and no way of hearing from the doctor about my ultrasound. They will have to call me at my mum's.

Sunday, June 14, 2009


I am still recovering from Pride! I stayed up until 3:30 am last night, I am so tired!
I can't party like that again for a while. I am going to have to take a break, maybe just do some fun summer activities like go to the beach or sit in the park by the river. Eat ice cream.
I need to expand my repetoire of fun things to do without getting crunk. I feel like I'm just a one note girl.
I'm getting tired. I was going to write something glorious that came out of my bum, but I've realized I can't do it. And I have to get up early and go to the doctor's to get my ingrown toenail cut. Apparently the only bad thing is when the needle goes in. I hate needles and yet am intrigued by them. Not in a heroin way, or in a medical way, more in a play situation. But I am not looking forward to this visit at all, I am terrified.
This is not the only medical visit I have to take this week. I have to go to my psychiatrist's, and get an ultrasound looking for gallstones!
It's pretty crappy. I'm 31 and feeling it! My body is now a mess of different things going awry.
I'm wanting some romance this summer. Someone who doesn't mind that my body is going to hell and I might need to get surgery. My first surgery! Oh woe is me.
I also have work tomorrow, and I worked a full shift on Saturday right between the parade and the dance. I'm so tired now. Dammit, I was going to write something better. Oh well, I will be home tomorrow afternoon to show off my toe!

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Bad Habits, And I Don't Mean Naughty Nuns

I recently, like, this morning, bought a pack of cigarettes. I have started smoking again, and I'm going to quit again. But I feel dumb, I hate my addictions and bad habits. They are starting to catch up with me and cause problems in my life. Smoking itself is one big problem, namely the health concerns, and then the no girlfriend concerns. But here I am, poisoning myself again just because I can't handle the OTHER issue, which is cutting back or cutting out my pot use. I've been trying to cut back since January, and it's difficult. I've achieved some long stretches of no use, but still go back to pothead tendencies.
I have some other bad habits, like getting a messy apartment and not cleaning until I could call those How Clean Is Your House ladies to come over and scold me while showing me how to use biological powder to clean nearly everything.
I'm a mess still. Not emotionally, but I have some bad crutches I have grown used to over the years. Maybe I am a mess emotionally and am covering it up with some bad habits.
Either way, at the beginning of this year I was going to try and make some major changes, and I am still working on them. It's a long slow process, and not the instant prestochango I was hoping for. I was hoping I would just magically be a better person by January 2nd, smoke free, drug free, exercising and cleaning. And it didn't happen! I think the process of change is very slow.
I remember when I was a kid the beginning of the school year at a new school always felt like an opportunity to be a new person, smarter, cooler, hipper. So cool nobody would think I was cool. Instead the same old shy person trotted out.
I wonder if personality is genetic.
My father also has one of my aforementioned bad habits, and I won't mention which one, but I remember it from when I was a baby and I always associated it with nice feelings of being a baby. And now I do it! A lot! Is it genetics, or is it just me?
I wish I was talking about Naughty Nuns instead of Bad Habits.
Which reminds me, my Nun Satan porn got legs and walked out of my mum's basement and vanished. I suspect a rogue cousin stole it. But I can't prove anything, besides what other perv would take my smuggled porn?? I had to go to GERMANY to get that comic!
This means I have to go back to Berlin and find that comic.
Or look on Ebay, but I would prefer it NEW! Secondhand porn is gross, and I'm still shocked anyone would want MY secondhand porn.
I do not consider porn a bad habit. I really don't have much porn. I don't rush out and buy every new issue of Club or anything.
I'm depressed, and I think it's about my bad habits. I feel again like I would be a bad girlfriend, just based on my bad habits. Dammit! And I don't want to twelve step or even two step, I just want to knock it off. Stop acting like a bad teenager. Or twenty something. Or whatever I'm not supposed to be anymore that I'm 31.
Yes, I am 31 now. I actually was in the hospital on my 29th birthday. The hospital, where I painted all the blocks. I still have them, some of them are very pretty.
I have an appointment with my psychiatrist next week, so maybe I can talk about some of this stuff.
I don't know how much of it relates to my mental illness. I know a lot of crazy people who are messy and smokers of tobacco and pot, who barely exercise and stuff. But is it just bad habits or indicative of something more?
They say substance use is high with persons with mental illness, and then they try to say it causes mental illness, but I think we just like the altered state, especially if the present state is not agreeable.
But I can be feeling fine and still want to get blotto.
I just want to feel like a grown up. Someone who takes care of themselves and doesn't waste money by smoking it. At least I still have the desire to change.
In other news, a friend I thought I had lost for good during my manic episode has agreed we can send emails. Which is really nice because she writes great emails, and because I have missed her everyday since I went crazy.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Life With Mister

I didn't know what else to write about, besides maybe talk about my dog, Mister.
He's laying beside me right now chewing on a rawhide bone. Earlier in the day he decided he wanted love right in the middle of my Tarot reading. And when I woke up this morning, he was patiently waiting by the bed. Whenever I come into the apartment, he does his crazy kissy dance routine all over me. He's pretty sweet.
He is a wiener dog, and he was supposed to be my psychiatric service dog. Life had other plans. I did come into contact with a woman who taught psychiatric service dogs, but while he's good with depression, he is NOT good with mania. I was just moving around too much, and he's a little guy so he got freaked out and spent time under the couch. He slept with my mom instead of me, and I barely slept.
But we're fine again now. But no, he cannot be a service dog. On the other hand, he is a good companion and therapy animal. He likes being held and he's very engaging, he keeps me from being stuck in my own head.
He is marching in the parade with me this year. Although I am worried about him getting stepped on. But he's done it two years in a row. I keep talking with my mum about organizing a wiener walk, but so far it has never happened. Mum just got a dachshund herself, a smooth coated black and tan girl named Hermione. She's super cute. This is her birthday month. When mum first got her it was so cold and we cut up one of my wool socks and made a sweater for her. She was THAT tiny.
Even though the psych service dog thing didn't pan out, I still am pretty happy with Mister. He makes me smile. Whenever he's away from the apartment it feels lonely. I like living with animals.
Here is a wiener dog from the Ministry of Funny Walks!

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

Pride week in Saskatoon

I haven't gone to any Pride events yet. I figure I will blow my wad at the parade and the dance. I haven't got anyone to go to the Dance with me yet, like a friend I mean. I will probably go with my cousin.
I went out to Diefenbaker Park last night with an old friend, where we drank hot chocolate and talked about old relationships and future relationships. Damn she has some intrigue in her life. I feel like I am not getting out there enough. I should advertise myself!
Never mind that, I've had several personal ads running here and there, and have only ever gotten a handful of responses that seemed remotely interesting in all those years of doing online ads. And I hate writing the about me sections. I always feel like I should mention the bipolar thing, but I don't. Not that I wouldn't, I'm pretty open about it.
It just seems like bipolar almost automatically adds a layer of drama to relationships. You know what I would like to read? A book about how to have a relationship written for people with bipolar. I don't know if it would help. I used to spend my evenings sitting in the self help section of Chapters reading all their books. They didn't care, and I did buy books enough for them to leave me alone. I just didn't want to pay for self help books. I learned all about "I" statements there. Come to think of it, I think an ex read those same self help books because she used all that lingo.
I also used to read all their paranormal stuff.
I had a couple years there where paranormal stuff kept happening to me. That was weird.
It will happen again, I am sure.
I wonder when the world will acknowledge that we've been getting visited by aliens!? At Cranberry Flats?!?
I realize this entry is not much about Pride. I like Pride, it's one of my favorite times of the year, mainly because there are so many hot cuties that come out of the woodwork. I've never had a girlfriend in the same city as me during Pride. Kinda sucks. and I've never gotten laid during Pride either. And yet every year there's that feeling, maybe this will be the year me + some girl will collide during pride = sex. Even though the track record is going against me, I still clean up and try to be sexually presentable Just In Case.
Who knows, maybe this year if I recondition all my leather I will win a sweetie! I'll put it on Facebook, just to make sure everyone knows I'm all ready for someone.
Well Mum will be here any minute to take me to see my dog, who's just gotten shaved! Little Mister! He's living with me now and it sure is good having a pet.

Friday, June 05, 2009

A long recovery to today

Well as you can see I am writing sensibly again, which isn't as much fun as the 200 hypergraphia entries, but oh well. I still find some of the things I thought about when crazy somewhat seductive, but there isn't much I can do with seductive thoughts besides make art.
My most recent work of art is a video I am currently editing which I got a grant to make about my family's home lands. Do not ask me how it is going, I don't want to say. And don't ask me what position I am taking because I don't really know much besides I have three hours of footage and need to condense it into a short snappy half hour of family history. Right now it's 45 minutes long, too LONG! Fifteen minutes I don't need.
I have been single for the last two years as well, no intriguing ladies milling about in my life. Well, that's kind of a slam against all the women I know, let's just say no romantic intrigue. When I think about it seriously I don't think I was ready to have a relationship, I needed to do a lot of healing about a lot of different things and I think I would have relied too much on a woman to keep me together. As it is now I am pretty together. I've been dutifully taking my medication (but forgetting the morning meds now and again) and I have even been working besides the year I got to just be a famous artist. Well, I was working then too, but not at a job. It seems that every so often I get the opportunity to be a full time artist, and then work can go stuff itself. I like working for myself.
The screenplay is finished, although I am open to rewrites if I find a producer who thinks that would be a good idea. I've realized that I am not the self producing type, at least, not with features. Too much work and I need to concentrate on the creative stuff.
I currently have an interesting part time job I like, which is good. I've been working for the telephone company and I like it much better than call centres, although in a way it is a glorified call centre. But inbound, no more calling people at home and bothering them.
Call centres have been my bread and butter for most of my twenties.
Now I am in my early thirties. It's nice so far, I feel more confident about myself and I don't feel self conscious about dorky things having to do with me, like listening to Roxette, which I used to be closeted about, and also thinking Louis Riel was the messiah. Well that's not really dorky, just kind of interesting. He did say he was the prophet of the new world. He was also highly manic depressive, and I'm surprised no one ever thought to point out that the government executed a mentally ill person.
I don't mind being called mentally ill, although I notice none of the professionals working with me use that term. It's always Bipolar diSordeR, which isn't as much fun to say as Manic Depression.
I currently have a very good female psychiatrist who has gone above and beyond what psychiatric care I have recieved in the past. She's sent me to light therapy groups, she's told me to try vitamin d and omega 3s, she sent me to a dietitian, and she even reduced my meds this year when I told her the Seroquel was making me too sleepy to get up in time for work and the antidepressant was killing my sex drive. I did gain some weight, I'd gone down fifty pounds with all the walking I did while I was manic, but I have gained that ALL back plus about ten pounds. The manic exercise and diet routine does not have long term benefits.
I also have a good psych nurse at the community clinic. And my gp, who is on maternity leave now, visited me in the hospital several times to check on how I was doing.

So I have much better psych care than before, no diss to my gp but a psychiatrist has specialised training in matters of the brain and the chemicals that get it to work properly.
It's funny having one such TERRIBLE experience with psychiatry, like being restrained and shot in the ass with Thorazine in Montreal for trying to make a phone call during nap time, compared to when I ran away from Hantelman and when I came back they just asked me to pee in a cup. They didn't even scold me!
It's funny that I've had some of the bleakest depressions but what makes me end up in the hospital is always the manias. Some of my depressions probably could have done better with psych care in a ward, but I never went. Thought I could be stronger.
The summer I was in the home my friend Jasmine Turner killed herself. She had scars on her arms from when she'd tried the first time as a teenager. And then she just did it one day. I guess there was a note, but I didn't read it or hear what it said. I felt bad, like if only I had done something differently she would still be alive. It was a sad funeral, her son was just this little boy and he was still helping fill in her grave. Now he's in foster care, so sad. So are her other children.
I don't know if I was suicidal when I got out of the hospital, I sure was depressed though, as anyone would be when their seratonin's been used up. It felt bleak, like there would never be a time when I'd just be living independently again working on art and making a mess. But it happened. I used to visualize myself standing just below the summit of a mountain, unable to see beyond the mountain but knowing there was some great vista on the other side.
I got a dragon tattooed on my arm, for a few reasons. It's on my right arm, the Manic side, and is on one hand a reminder that mania can be destructive, and on the other hand is a memorial to my cousin Christopher. He had an obsession with corn snakes so it is made to look like a corn snake.
I am getting another tattoo this fall (I try not to get tattooed in the summers because that's swimming time and you can't swim for a month with a healing tattoo) of Cherry Blossoms on my left arm, the depression side, because when I would get suicidal in Vancouver I would promise not to do anything until the cherry blossoms came out in spring, and by then I was usually okay. When I think about it, god, it must have been the winters! I would always get depressed from the grey sleet, and here in Saskatoon, winters, while chilly, are still sunny.
I've been trying to improve myself this year. So far I've only managed ONE goal, to stop smoking. I really want to exercise and walk my dog more. But I'm not very motivated, I have to admit.
And now for Some Penguins! I taped these Gentoos and King Penguins in Scotland while I was there. I also got footage of a Rhino giving another Rhino a blow job (REALLY!) but Youtube took that video down because it was rude.

Fit Of Pique running again!

After two years of being locked out of my old blog, I have finally cracked my password and am currently writing in it. I have written three entries. I am pretty happy! I also got to read old emails, including the first email I wrote after my cousin Christopher died.
If only I could fuse both email and blog accounts and have one blog and one email! Oh well.
My arm is itchy. I have gone down to Step 2 of the patch and haven't noticed a big difference yet. I still have cravings to smoke SOMETHING, so I've been smoking some tobacco alternatives. No tobacco though. It's been 23 days? 22 days? A long time anyway. I have no desire to start again, just this need to smoke something or another.
I went to a BDSM munch last night and had a good time, met a lot of new people and talked kinky stuff. It was fun, and I am going to go back for the mid month coffee I think.
I'm so messy! I think I am going to clean today. I know, I always say I am going to clean and then nothing happens. But I really DO want to clean today and I'm not working so far. Plus I am getting a new couch tomorrow, well, an old couch from my grandparents, but it's new to me!
Well, I am going to go write in Fit Of Pique now, about I don't know what.

Thursday, June 04, 2009

The Home

Living in a psych home is the ultimate in tedium and I have to admit, I generally just spent time at my mother's instead of trying to hang out there. I was living almost the whole time with women far far older than me, waiting for nursing homes at that point really, except for one other younger woman who moved in soon after me.
There just wasn't much to do. we had television. Most of the residents stayed there and didn't go out into the city. That was very depressing. And like I said, the rooms were shared so no rumpy pumpy even on your own. And I missed my dog especially, I went to Mum's all the time to see him. I also stored my pot at my mum's since I was in a sober living facility. There are only a couple homes in town that don't care if you do alcohol and some other drugs. And they aren't the kinds of homes you want to live in.
My roommate for most of the time was schizophrenic and we think had dementia. She was always talking about Indians or Cows in the backyard, and couldn't wipe her bum properly. We shared a bathroom so I knew the truth!
Shit all over the towels.
At the time I was still thinking about transitioning, and it was weird being male identified and spending time in an all female group home. On the other hand, it would have been weirder to be with guys. Which made me realize how difficult it is to be trans and crazy. I made a packer that I wore outside of the house sometimes and it made me feel better.
Shit, this typing is driving me nuts and I don't have much else to say about the home. Maybe tomorrow I will just skip ahead to today.

The Hospital

I'm guessing you will want to know what the Hospital was like for my last psych trip. Especially considering I wrote so much bad stuff about my first hospital experience as a nutter.
Well, it was okay! It was a nice big ward with an outdoor courtyard and you could go down to the river for a smoke. I started smoking again mostly to get out of the ward, and it was hard to quit again! I have quit now for three weeks.
There were a lot of movies to watch and groups to participate in. I don't know if I learned anything in group, besides to keep specifics of my looneytuneness confidential, but you all know I'm not good at that. We went on walks every so often around the university grounds, which was nice because you could see all the bunnies. There were a LOT of bunnies that summer, and a fellow bipolar even got me to come outside to look at a baby bunny that was in the courtyard, it was so cute! Every time I went outside the ward it seemed like there was another brown bunny munching on dandelions.
I was there for six weeks, I came home and was still emailing all the time and got sent back, not quite sane yet. I made some friends in there, one I still talk to on facebook and a few I've seen elsewhere. Some dude spit on me and my book in the ward and then disappeared, I think he assaulted another patient and got sent to a higher security ward. It was pretty weird getting used to the relative safety of the ward, have an issue and just take it up at the nurses station. But then I was released and scared of everything, scared of the randomness of people, especially after my cousin Steven got assaulted in his own home by some gang thugs.
But there were no restraints in the psych ward, no shouting orderlies, no one telling me I was wasting hospital supplies. I even ran away twice, went back with no big fuss.
The one things I didn't like was how I felt railroaded into going into a psych home after. I didn't want to go, and it was hard. I didn't have a room of my own for nearly six months, couldn't even masturbate I was so stressed. I was sad and in shock, especially because of weird things I had said, most of which are chronicalled in this blog. And I missed my best friend, who didn't seem to want to talk to me.
Although I found an email she sent to me after I lost my password, just checking in. And I missed it! Oh, so sad.
But in conclusion, the hospital was not so bad. The first one I was in my cousin showed up to and told me she'd been in five star hospitals and that the one we were in was a one star hospital. So I guess I was lucky enough to be in a four star hospital.
They're building a bigger version of it now, and I hear people get to have their own rooms. I sure hope so because not being able to get off is a major problem. Everyone, even mental patients, should be afforded enough privacy to masturbate.