Setting up cocksuckers

I hung out with my gay friend Mike today. Mike and I met at work and then quit within a week of each other, but we still hang out, and I'm glad because he is a lot of fun. Tonight I went to his place with some beer, we ended up going to Diva's and dropping E and dancing, and then went back to his house and watched Youtube and exchanged stories of how we each lost our virginity. He came out when he was really really young too, and so did I.

I came out when I was fourteen. I figured out I was a lesbian the night I hugged a female friend with breasts and was in awe of the feeling of breast against breast.

I waited until grade 10 or 11 to come out at school, but a lot of people knew really. I wasn't hiding really, or I was kinda but then something in me just broke and I'd be the dykiest person you could see in that school. Being butch is something you can't hide.

Strangely enough, it took me a long time to be able to apply the word Butch to myself and feel good about it. I tried to be femme and ended up looking like a drag queen. So eventually I accepted my butch self, and I started shopping in the mens section.

I don't like strapping on a dick. Some butches do, but I'm a writhing bottom. I like to get fucked. And there are a lot of butches that like getting fucked and a lot of happy femmes who like strapping it on and showing their big butch girlfriend some lovin.

I got to see boys kissing tonight because we were at the gay bar. There aren't many places in town where boys can safely kiss. I think it's easier for girls because straight men like that lesbian thing.

Tonight Mike and I talked about pussy eating and cock sucking. I think giving oral is way more fun than getting it. I don't know why. Some people don't like giving head, so I hear. I think next to fisting, eating a pussy is a good way to spend some free time.

I love having gay friends. We went on facebook and I showed him all the cute gay men I knew to find out his taste. He picked the hottie, Pat Mills. Pat Mills is one sexy fag. I'd do him. God, I hope he doesn't read this blog and get offended.

I've often wanted to find Pat a husband, because he's such a great guy and an amazing catch. Whatever man lands him, and I'm curious to find out who, is going to be so lucky. Plus Pat makes great films. He and I met in first year at Emily Carr.

First year at Emily Carr is kind of like an arty high school. They load you up on drawing and art history and installation and just about every kind of art practice there is, and then you have to go for interviews to get into your program. I nearly missed being in the film department, but I put up a fight and made them put me in. I mean, that was the only reason I wanted to go to Art School. So I could study film. That was the only reason Pat Mills was at Emily Carr too. But he said fuck it to their interviews and got accepted into Ryerson. And he's doing quite well now.

Anyway, he was always so adorable, he's the perfect gay husband. And someday I would like to matchmake my gay friends and see a serious relationship bloom, just so I could feel like some lesbian super hero.

My new gay friend Mike is also really cute and quite the catch. I have excellent taste in gay men. I've never had a shallow or mean gay friend. Not like some of the bitches at the bar. Always lovely gay men who tell me their crazy sex adventures.

I love how gay men approach the idea of sex, I mean, they really do have this sense of frivolity around it, and they can have so much sex! I know that's a bit of a stereotype, but man, sex sex sex. They have bathhouses, I'm so jealous.

I actually have really high standards for who I have sex with now. I used to just go out and get it, and not particularly care where it came from. Then I turned 24 and I got a crush on my friend Robin. She's probably reading this and laughing. We're friends, obviously it didn't go anywhere, but the more I found out about her the more I loved her, and then, I don't know, it reached a turning point and now we're just really good friends, with no sexual tension coming from either of us. I like that. But it made me realize how much I wanted to really feel intensely for someone before I had sex.

Then my last dates were with the girl I lost my virginity to, the one I mourned over in the earlier passages of this blog. I knew when she and I started hanging out that I was attracted to her still, and then one day when she dropped me off I kissed her, out of the blue. And she kissed me back, and it was magical.

We never had what you could call sex, but we did have one heavy make out session and many many french kisses. And while it was working (before I had my psychosis and she dumped me) I was thinking, you know what, this pace is perfect. I can get to know her without the pressure of sex but still with that sweet tinkling that there could be sex, and it was good. I mean, we really had a good time together, it was fun. The conversations were amazing, and that is what I miss the most about her.

At this point I know it's highly dubious we'll ever be lovers again, but I would still like to be her friend. She's leery of this, and I'm sure she has good reason. I wasn't the easiest person to know when I was manic. But there really was this nice spark of genuine beginnings of bestfriendship. And that is rare to find, about as rare as finding a good lover. So anyway, on E I usually come to a peace about something in my life, and I think I found peace around her. I can't make her be my friend. I can't convince her it's a good idea. But I did have some nice times with her, and I think well, at least I got to have her in my life again, even if it was only for a short time. She is truly one of the beautiful people, in an all rounded sense. Inside as well as out. She thinks she's mean, well, maybe to other people, but she was always really nice to me, even when she dumped me because I went crazy.

She didn't dump me because I'm crazy, she knew about that the whole time. It's just, I was acting out REALLY inappropriately. How embarrassing. She says she's forgiven me for that at least, small mercies, but no dice on restarting a friendship. And she really was my best friend for a while. I just loved her and told her everything. I'd never had someone I felt romantic about be such a best friend. And that was hard to let go of when I lost it. I've always wanted a lover who was also my best friend in the world. I think that's how it should be with all couples. And I never felt like she was manipulating me or playing games with me, although she could have been, who knows. I don't think she did though, she was always really straight up honest with me. Now she thinks she's bad for me and always has been, I don't know how to tell her she's my favorite female in the whole world. And I've successfully become best friends with two of my exes, and I'm friends with another one casually in a facebook way. But the two best friends who were my lovers were TERRIBLE! We had such a crappy relationship, the both of them and I! We just did not click as lovers, although the sex was great. But you know, even though they're my exes, I don't think of them in anyway as potential partners again. We're great best friends, but we just can't add sex to it.

And who knows, maybe that's the same with my recent ex. Maybe we make terrible lovers but great best friends. I'm really curious to find out. No, we made pretty good lovers. But that's my opinion. I just keep thinking, here is this amazing person I just love to bits and wouldn't it be cool if we could hang out like friends.

And wouldn't it be cool if we could be best friends who sucked eachother's cocks! LOL. No, I have never seen her with a strap on. But now that's in my head. And me trying to be friendly and not lechey, oh man what a poor job I'm doing of it.

Anyway, this E trip was very gentle, but fun, and I liked coming to a peace about my ex. It's okay to love her this much, it's just too bad she doesn't want it. We could have been a cute couple. But whatever, I love someone who is not in my life anymore. That's okay. I'll always love her I'm sure, I've loved her since high school. And definitely in terms of exs she's on the top of my list. I have no complaints about her character, she was always upstanding in all her dealings with me. And that's a good note to end a relationship on. I never went through a period of hating her or anything after she dumped me, although I was very very very very sad but too caught up in the hospital and manic psychosis to articulate it properly. It was a festering sadness, which is now gone. And even if some friends have griped about her for dumping me when I was crazy, I wouldn't change a hair about her, and I wouldn't listen to anyone tell me something about her character I knew not to be true.

The last time I talked to her on the phone she hung up on me right away. I was calling from the psych ward. I don't blame her.

And thus ends my tale of cocksucking boys and pussy eating girls. With the simplest advice straight from me to you.

Never EVER EVER call your recent ex lover from the looney bin. It'll just made them glad they dumped you before it all went to hell.

good friday

Princess Auto was closed when I finally got out there to buy a powered usb hub for my computer. I need it to properly use my new webvideocamera. It works with mom's computer so I was trying it out there and got on Skype for the first time, only to discover one thing.

Don't select female on your profile page.

No kidding, I had to shut the damn thing down twice because I kept getting chats from guys who just wanted sex. One guy was really bossy and demanding a photo. Fuck off! I don't send out photos to people I don't know just on the off chance I might want to see an erect penis on a fuzzy webcam.

And I didn't want to see any penises, but they just kept sending chats! Stop it! And then they would get annoyed if I chatted with someone else. And I only got this camera and Skype so I could talk to my friends out east. So far my experiences with Skype have been sad. Too many annoying people.

That's the funny thing about new technology, people will always apply it to sex somehow. I don't know why that is. And men will always be rude and uncooth online. I think Emily Post needs to write a book on online manners. Because some people, god! Like all this spam I've been getting for hot milf action. I don't want to sleep with someone just because they have kids.

I think the most uncooth thing is dumping someone via email. It's so passionless, which is maybe the point. I've been dumped twice by email. I've never been dumped by text messaging though. That's something to look forward to.

I once dumped someone on the machine and I got into such trouble because her roommates heard it before she did. Ooops! Never again, and I'd apply that to email too.

Of course getting dumped in public isn't good either. Maybe the best way to dump someone is on the phone. Then whoever's getting dumped can have a little cry and then stick their face in the fridge.

Today is Good Friday. We went on a Stations of the Cross walk but left Jesus on his plight to eventually stand in the shivering cold outside the closed library to wait for mum to pick us up. We only made it to two stations.

And they'll know we are absconding by our walk, by our walk.

My dachshund lamp arrived today. It's bigger than Mister and it glows greeny. It's very cute. It's for nursery's actually, and it was my 29th birthday present, much belated. Mum has my 30th present picked out, so she says.

Then we went to Mulberry's for lunch and listened to Gramma and Grampa bicker in the car all the way home.

Deanna Mae is coming to town today, so I'm happy about that. Say hello to my little cousin!

Smoke Free Report: Day 6

It's practically spring here, even though it snowed today, and I have forgotten how to turn the radiator down. There, I think I might have turned it down.

Anyway, I wanted to talk about not smoking. It's day 6 I think. Anyway, I'm doing really good. The patch totally helps out. And I've taken up gum chewing again. So when I turn 30 I'll be smoke free. I'm pretty happy about it. It's amazing how intense nicotine addiction is.

My clothes smell nice again, and that's good, and I must be infinitely more kissable now that I don't have smokers saliva. Bleh!

Tomorrow I'm going to spend the day cleaning my apartment and washing my clothes. Boring I know. But believe me, it will be a significant improvement to my life.

Once when I lived in Vancouver I went to this little laundromat and saw a cockroach run out from an arcade game. I freaked out and always used the laundry across the street since, even when it destroyed some good sheets but putting grease stains on them when they went through a bad dryer.

I watched a friend smoke a whole cigarette in front of me twice and I didn't even ask for a puff. I was so proud of mself. Yay for beating nicotine! But there's still a ways I have to go. I'm getting online coaching to quit, so that's good. But for so many reasons I decided to quit. Me and cigarettes had a history, but it's over.

Which is how I'm finally thinking about my last relationship. It's just over. There's nothing more to be said. And the psychic was right about her. It was going to be a messy breakup.

I'm thinking I have to take my new talkcam back to the store because it doesn't work. I'm trying to get with the century and use Skype,

Dirty Bingo

Last night I went with my mom to Free Flow Dance's annual Naughty Bingo. Unfortunately we didn't win anything, but Cindy Baker won pasties.

I've been buying the things I had on my shopping list. The next big purchase is a tattoo, which I'm excited about. I've been wanting a new tattoo for ages, and this one is on my right forearm. It's a dragon the color of a cornsnake, and it reminds me of Christopher because he always wanted a corn snake and his birthday is around Chinese New Year. So we'll see how it turns out.

I bought a new bra, well, two, half price. I've gone down from an E cup to a D cup. As it happened, I bought the one bra my mum was slavering over and she's been grumpy at me ever since. She's on her new treadmill right now singing along with Janice Joplin. I like buying bras that are actually fitted for me, they're nice.

I've kept up the tradition of buying terribly lacy bras for myself, because I like the contradiction when I take off my butchy clothes.

What else have I been up to? I'm done work now, which is good, because I'm ready to start work on my project. I want to start filming as soon as possible. I've got a camera coming in two weeks.

Mister is at my feet. I found out this week that I got into Co-Op Housing, so that is exciting because I'll be able to live with my little dog and cat finally. I'm excited about that, I will have a one bedroom apartment, which is good. And I'm going to get cable too!

I move in April 15th.

I'm looking forward to all the things I will be able to do now. I'm done work so my days are free when I'm not working on my project. I've ordered my swabs for the Genographic project and soon my Gramma and Grampa will be contributing their dna to the project. That's pretty cool.

I'm trying to think of other interesting things to blog about. Well, manic depression wise, my meds are working pretty well. I'm not moody at all anymore, pretty even tempered and stable, which is good. I'm happy about that. I actually feel like I'm capable of going to university again, which is something I will apply to next year.

I want to finally shoot my vampire video, that would be good to do. I have fake teeth for myself and everything. I might dress up femme for it.

I'm getting my lip pierced next week, which is exciting, and the new tattoo on the 2nd of April, well before my 30th birthday on the 26th. I love body mods. I used to cruise the BME site all the time, but I've never uploaded any pictures. At this point I now have two stretched lobes and an industrial, I used to have a hood piercing but I took it out when the doctor suggested it might have something to do with my chronic yeast infections.

Okay, for two years I had a chronic yeast infection. It was horrible, I tried everything to get rid of it. Boric Acid (at a friend's suggestion), Garlic (at another friend's suggestion), monistat, many cartons of monistat. Finally I had to take diflucan for six weeks. Diflucan knocked the shit out of that damn yeast infection.

Anyway, I don't think the piercing had anything to do with that yeast infection, it was a nice piercing.

I'm also going to be dying my hair back to blue and yellow, my favorite hair colour! It looks like a sunrise when I put it in, because the yellow goes at the front.

To acheive my new hair colour I acquired Lagoon Blue and Electric Sunshine. I will post a picture when I have it in, maybe with my new leather coat on.

Day 1 of The Patch

I'm trying to quit smoking for the umpeenth time. I've tried to quit smoking seriously at least four times. Once when I was in the hospital. They have a program to help people quit smoking, but so many people smoke and it's so stressful to be in there that it didn't work very well. The nurses themselves admitted that it was ridiculously hard to quit smoking in the hospital.

The downfall of my last quit was Djarum Black cigarettes, which are more like smoking something out of the spice drawer than cigarettes really. I didn't consider them seriously full of nicotine enough to worry about getting readdicted, but I was, and by the time I got into the hospital I was toting a carton of DuMaurier. Sad really. And intense, since the carton looks like an extra large package of cigarettes.

Our cigarettes all got stored under the sink in the nurses med office.

But enough about smoking in the psych ward. I had been smoke free for about 6 months or so when I went back to ciggy's, and despite a few halfhearted attempts, have not really tried to quit until today.

I went out and bought the patch. I was on the patch in the hospital, but all those people going down to the Meewasin Valley Trail to smoke drew me back into tobacco's cruel plegmy clutches.

Bleh. Smoking is smelly. And I'm really getting freaked out by our Canadian warnings. I mean, I have to look at rotting teeth or a bloody heart or a weird brain everytime I have a smoke. That's no fun! I haven't wanted to look at such things since I was a morbid teen.

They're so dire too, because they're all in black with white writing.

So I'm quitting, as of today. I am also going to bleach and dye my hair. I'm in a good mood.

In weird news, my mother and I, but mostly my mother, worked on fixing her stupid toilet for two days. A leak had rusted a bolt so much that eventually a hacksaw was procured to cut off the offending bolt.

I was just in the middle of complaining about the hacksaw when after 24hours of trying to get that one bolt off, the thing made a happy clink noise to the floor. Toilets are poopy!

That's my real middle name!

This is a great song to feel maudlin to, God Bless Roxette!

The Paranormal and I

When I was a kid I was addicted to reading books about the paranormal. And as an adult, I've had my fair share of paranormal events. Possibly enough to write an entire book on, to be honest. I know being a crazy person, certain one's get written out pretty much immediately if they're genuine hallucinations. I can tell the difference, believe it or not.

Not half an hour ago I watched my mum's ivy plant start moving around for no reason, like something brushed against it. It spooked the shit out of me.

Once I had a roommate who had a poltergeist attached to her. One day she and I were talking and a pink lighter materialized out of nowhere and fell on the floor two feet away from us.

And then there was the infamous UFO sighting.

We saw two of them, and they were each a fair size. Green and kind of whispy, with really bright glowing orbs. That was intense. I mean really, Aliens! What else can I say? It's insanity out here in Saskatchewan.

When I first got out of the hospital there was a poltergeist in my apartment knocking on the floor and the walls.

And then there was Preston's house. He had a ghost that knocked on walls. One time I was taking a piss and that fucking ghost knocked on the wall behind me. I didn't know what to do, because I just kept peeing so I couldn't run. And chills were running up and down my spine at that thing being so close to me.

I've been around it so much. I want it to be over. No more freaking paranormal things to happen. But my psychic told me I was more paranormal than spiritual. Dammit! Why do I have to be crazy AND be as suseptible to spooks and extraterrestrials? Why not one or the other? Now nothing I say is credible, except that all the events described above have other eye witnesses.

I think I should try and be more spiritual. I'm not sure how to start though. Something simple.

MONEY!

I checked my bank account this morning to find it reduced to a piddling minus 4.95. Sad state of affairs! But then I checked it this afternoon to find it PACKED with cash! I'm so excited. Tonight I'm going out to buy myself some nice new sheets. And thus begins The Shopping.

One Line

I think this is my favorite PJ Harvey song, I was listening to this CD along the time I went manic, and it reminds me of my desperate desire to throw out a lifesaver to my flailingly crashing in flames romance.

I don't like the drugs but the drugs like me

I've come to an uneasy truce with my psych meds. By now I know for sure I need them, and five years after my diagnosis of bipolar I have finally been prescribed a med cocktail that works so well I can't even do mushrooms. I can't do mushrooms because the drugs are so powerful that I don't feel any effects at all so I don't trip. Pot DOES still work though, and for that I am grateful. Because I like pot.

But I'm pretty happy with my med regime now. I take morning and bedtime pills, and it has made me ridiculously stable. I find it really hard to cry though, I shouldn't say that, now something will happen that will make me cry.

I don't like the drugs, but they do like me, and they work. So I guess in a grumpy kind of way I feel an affection for them. They've pulled me out of yet another psychosis and have kept me stable as heck. I'm not even having sleep problems, like I used to have quite badly. I hate sleep problems.

Today is My Sunday

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Live to be Happy

I'm really coming out of my depression now, and it's nice. I've got one week left of work then I get to be a full time artist for the rest of 2008! I'm so stoked. I'm going to be getting a new Camera, and that's exciting too. Right now I'm planning on getting the 24p HDV from Sony, with XLR inputs and everything! My first real camera. I hope to make tons of videos with it.

On the lady front not much is happening. I did make a tremendous discovery that lesbians tend to hang out at Lydia's on Wednesdays and sometimes Tuesdays, and I was cruising a cute blonde there last week. I think I'm finally ready to be in a relationship, so I'm enjoying cruising the cuties. I really want something serious to happen finally.

In a month I'm turning 30. This is a huge step for me, because when I was a teenager I was sure I would commit suicide before turning 30. My 20's were okay, but learning to live with a disability like manic depression kicked the shit out of some of my fun.

I'm seriously considering Burning Man this year, but I'm not sure I'll have the cash to go. I really really want to though, because I've never been.

I'm getting some new piercings soon. I'm going to pierce my lip and get my hood repierced. I'm excited about that. I always liked my hood piercing, it was a very pleasureable part of my life, except for when it would twist itself in my pants and leave me screaming to the bathroom.

I've realized I have to renew my committment to blogging. I haven't been a very good blogger this year, mostly because I was in recovery for much of 2007. God, except for one sexy thing that happened, 2007 was a bad year for me. Manic episodes pretty much write off a year of your life. Bleh!

My cousin had a manic episode this past month and ended up in the hospital. She's doing loads better though, and I'm proud of her for accepting her diagnosis and working on it. It's hard to accept being bipolar because it automatically means your life is kinda up in the air all the time.

As for me, the meds are working even better than before my episode. My psychiatrist is great, my psych nurse is great, and I feel like my old self again. I feel like I can have ambition again, and that is sexy.

I've always been very ambitious, even as a child. Now I have a fully written screenplay under my belt and am working on a half hour documentary. I've been talking to people about my new project and it's given me some great ideas. I'm thinking of applying to the NFB for funds to travel to Asia and see where the Crees come from. Grampa thinks we did migrate over the Bering Strait because there is a myth about a man following two women over the ice. So I'm going to get him to tell me that story on camera.

I still miss my last girlfriend, she was pretty special. I don't know what else to say. A manic episode stepped into the way of what was a very sexy special relationship. When I went manic I bought her an engagement ring, we took it back (they were very nice) and got all my money back, then because I was still manic I took that money and bought a keyboard, which is currently laying beside me unplayed, I am selling it off. I should have bought a guitar. Actually I should have paid my rent, but tell that to a manic person.

It was a nice ring too, it had three diamonds and was white gold. It was awesome. I wish I had a diamond ring, but I'd only want one if I was married. And I want to be married. I'm a marrying kind of girl. I can't even imagine being with someone if there wasn't marriage in the cards. Apparently bipolar people tend to marry other bipolar people, but that sounds like double the trouble!

Me and My Weiner Dog

When I first decided to get a dog, it was because rats died too soon. They only have a three year lifespan, and I was pretty tired of having a broken heart because another rat died. So after much consideration, I decided I was getting a weiner dog. They were funny looking, small, and semi butchy, so I thought it was a good fit. I don't know why I think weiner dogs are butch. They're not frou frou generally anyway.

Then I started doing research on psychiatric service dogs. They were amazing! I wanted one.

So I got Mister from a breeder up in Prince Albert. She bred shorthairs mostly, but because of a recessive gene Mister cropped up, all long haired and gooney looking. No, I mean, he is handsome, but on his bad hair days he does resemble a mop.

We had trouble with him right from the start. At a maximum number of people in the house he goes and hides under the couch. He's always been shy, like me. He's kind of standoffish until you get to know him. And he's only REALLY obediant if you have some kind of treat in your hand.

But he is very cute.

I haven't lived in the same house with him since I moved out of Mom's the Third Time.
I don't think he'll ever be a psychiatric service dog, but an emotional support animal, possibly. He's pretty entertaining. I've never met such a comical dog. He's also very loyal, which is nice. He's nearly always at my side when we're together. Or behind my back, like right now.

Mister Mop. He gets shaved in the summer and that's when he looks really smart.

I'll never regret getting him. But I'll be glad if we can get into co-op housing so I can live with my animals again. I've missed having animal energy around my living space.

Scotland

I don't know if I already mentioned this, but I'll be going to Scotland as part of my grant. I've had a look in a few guidebooks and tonight I purchased Lonely Planet's Scotland. So I am planning what to do for the two weeks I'll be there. At some point I have to get to Wick, a small town of 7000 far up North. We have relatives way up there, I don't know what else there is up there besides the ruins of a castle. I've never seen a castle before.

My mom is coming with me, if she can scrounge up enough money to come. I think it would be fun to visit Scotland with her. And for a first time trip abroad it would be good for her because they speak English. With a heavy accent, but she's watched BBC.

I'm excited about visiting the homes of my ancestors and I'm more than a little curious if I'll feel a sense of homecoming.

Tonight I went to my interview for Co-Op Housing, I think it went really well. I pay $800 up front which gets refunded when I move out, I can have a dog and a cat, as long as the dog is little and Mister definitely fits the bill. I have to volunteer three hours a month and attend the general meetings and the spring/fall clean up day and BBQ. The suites look nice too. So hopefully soon I will find out how I did and if I get in sooner or later.

Pimp My iPod

One of the funny things about iPods is sometimes you get weird little synchronicities with the shuffle function. The other day I was listening to Peaches "Stick it to the Pimp", when what should the next song be?

You guessed it, "It's Hard out Here for a Pimp."

I really need to make a decision about blogging. If I'm going to keep blogging I should at least put in the effort. I've been blogging for over a decade now, and it's been part of my life since roughly about the same time I got the internet.

My first blogs were all personal diary entry type things, mostly about girls. Girls I liked. And how rotten they were. Ha ha, just kidding.

My last girlfriend ended up getting over a hundred senseless emails from me. I feel so bad about that! Oh man, I hate Crazy Time, it's very destructive. I even forgot my password to Fit of Pique, which is why I don't write there anymore. I forget half the crazy shit I did. Which is embarrassing.

Illness is often embarrassing, but manic psychosis makes for much more than one major faux pas.

I hate psychosis, everything is way too fast. Especially the Mistakes.

I'm much more laid back than that.

I am making a shopping list of things I most need, like a filing cabinet.

I used to have the best filing cabinet. It was legal sized and had two drawers. Mom absconded with it during one of my moves across the country as payment for something. She also kept my t.v. stand, which is also glorious in it's own swinging glass door way.

I also need a new leather jacket. I went to Boutiques of Leather to look at them and some of them were atrocious. Way too many zippers! I have developed an awareness of the aesthetic limits of zippers.

My last leather coat was amazing and I want another just like it. Because I'm set in my ways like that. Anyway, next I will be going to the Leather Ranch. I don't know why I'm writing about shopping.

How embarrassing.

The iPod was a worthy purchase. So far I've got ten gigs of songs on it, and there's still like, 70 gigs left.

Gigs. And bits and bytes.

I was thinking about putting some video on it.

I wish my life was a little more exciting. Tonight I have my Rainbow Co-op Housing interview, so I hope that goes well.

It's Imam, not Iman!

I've given my two weeks notice at work. I'm also going to be working part time. I'm excited about that, so it won't be SO intense. Last night I was over at my mum's and she misspoke the word Imam as Iman, it was pretty funny. We were watching a preview for the next Little Mosque on the Prairies.

Iman is kind of intimidating. She looks like she could give you a spanking and like it. She was on Project Runway Canada and her catch phrase was "You just don't measure up."

But Iman is not an Imam.

I'm starting to get my sense of humour about being crazy back. I've been sharing psychosis stories with friends of mine. I've heard all kinds of funny things and told them all kinds of wacky ideas I had.

The funniest was when I was convinced I worked in the secret service and that if I ordered Kentucky Fried Chicken it would be a hit on David Suzuki because dear lord, he does look so much like Colonel Sanders.

So I've been trying to figure out what I will do when this grant shows up at my doorstep. I think I'm getting a membership to the Y. And I'm going to take Yoga classes. I need to do something. Something healthy. My psych nurse says it's a good idea for me to do exercise, especially with bipolar. I keep hearing that but I've never really done anything about it.

I really should try and do more things according to the bipolar rules of living. I barely drink anymore, and I do get to bed roughly around the same time every night. I'm getting better.

Tonight I have an interview for Rainbow Co-op Housing. They have one bedroom units for people with disabilities, so my mom talked me into applying a while back. Anyway, they did a bunch of stuff and now I'm having an interview because a unit is becoming available. My name is second down, so it all depends on how I do I guess. I can't imagine it will be that bad.

If I get in I finally get to live with Mister and Schrodinger, which is the whole reason why I applied in the first place. I miss living with my little cat and dog.

Last spring someone was throwing birdhouses around the neighborhood. I don't know why. But I found two and brought them in and then wove a huge conspiracy around them because I am crazy.

But anyway, I think we should put one up in the country. I sanded it down and revarnished it and everything, because I was crazy!

Maybe I wasn't the only crazy person in the neighborhood.

It's amazing the small details you can notice about life when you are crazy. And the other thing I find facinating about mania is how often it involves God and the Divine. I mean, why does it tend to always go there? Bizarre. I never cared about going to church until my first episode. Then suddenly it made a weird kind of sense.

Now I'm Anglican only in the slightest passing way, I go to church on Christmas and Easter and that's about it.

I'm open to other religions, but none besides Buddhism has had any kind of attraction for me. The only rough thing about Buddhism is that I think eventually you end up giving up meat, and I'm not sure I'm up for that. I love tacos too much.

SUGAR! BRing me SUGAr!

It's a Thursday morn and yesterday I got a big artist fee, so I bought myself a new iPod! I'm super stoked about it, as you may remember if you were an old reader of my blog that I used to have an iPod and it died about the same time I went crazy roughly. I tried to ressurect it and then gave up and had it recycled at Neural Net. Anyway, that iPod was a mini and had about 4 GB which I thought was plenty. But now my new one has 80GB, and that was the smaller one! You can get 160GB iPods now. Crazy! To give you a sense of how big that is, my computer's original hard drive was 80 GB.

Plus this one has a full colour screen. My last one just had a grey and black LCD screen.

Anyway, I don't usually get up this early, but my dog decided at an ungodly hour to lick my face over and over until I got up and let him go pee.

Today I go to work and put in my two week notice. TWO WEEKS LEFT OF WORK!

My direct deposit form is on it's way to Canada Council so I can get my money, and that is exciting. I can't wait!

This afternoon I have an appointment with my psych nurse, and I am paying my phone bill finally finally. I'll have phone and internet at home again!!!

Aside from all that, well I was going to say nothing is going on but that's not true. I'm hopefully going for coffee with someone from the psych ward, and that will be fun. She's not there anymore though, I mean I met her in a psych ward and she was a really good friend in there, so I'm looking forward to it.

Life

My life is going well, the meds I am on are working even better than before I got sick when I was on the other medication. I'm happy about that. I've been working full time in a call centre doing surveys on this, that, and the other confidential thing. I don't mind it, as a job it's quite nice and I've even made a friend at work who I've gone out with a couple times. Last night I watched the Oscars with my mom, I was happy to see Diablo Cody win for best original screenplay. Juno was a really good movie, and it was her first screenplay!

Right now I am helping mom with her posters for her classes.

Oh HEY! I just now got my grant results from the Canada Council! $33 000 to make a short documentary researching my homelands! I am so super excited! I get to buy an Ipod and a Leather jacket!!!!!!!!!

Life is tickety boo man! Now I can quit my job! I will go back to it once my grant has dried up, but that won't be for months and months.

One of my cousins had her first manic episode recently, she's getting out of the hospital this week. She was on my mind almost solidly for about a month. I realized a few things from it.

#1, Manic episodes are nothing to be ashamed of.
#2, Sometimes people do very funny/cute things while manic.
#3, They tend to have a similar theme (ie, finding God in everyday small things).

So yes, Life is good, and I'm glad I've hung on through my difficult recovery to get to here, because . . .

NOW I GET A NEW IPOD! And that makes life better and better and better and . . .

Quiet Life

I applied for twelve different jobs today, and with some luck I will get one of them. There's another call centre job, but it's actually full time and within walking distance. Hopefully if the other jobs don't pan out I can get it. I'm working part time now and need a full time job. I even applied for a job at the airport as a preboard screener officer, which would be kind of cool. And I applied for a job working with unions. It pays 700 a week!

Anyway, I also finally emailed the Canada Council to find out about my grant. I hope I will hear tomorrow. It would be nice if I got it.

Anyway, I am sleepy so I think I'm going to go to bed now. Life's quiet, but maybe that's good.

The Depression of a Writer between Projects.

I'm between projects, and it's depressing me. I don't know what to write about next, and my life is boring as a result. My writing is down to next to nil. I used to have interesting opinions, or something on my mind, but I have nothing in mind.

I don't know what to write about. And it's terrible! Oh woe to the writer with nothing to write about!

I did try to write about my life and the word dreary came up. Oh man!

I think I should concentrate on cleaning my apartment.

Thank God for Antidepressants

Today I bought my mom some lunch at her school's Cafeteria. She had just taken me to cash my work cheque. I'm waiting at home now for a friend to drop off something. Life's kind of okay. I'm glad I decided to wait one more year for grad school. I think I just need some time to get myself back together.

I think the reason it took me so long to recover from this episode was because I was grieving over the break up.

Anyway, my phone's been weirdly disconnected. People can still call and leave messages, and I can even hear the phone ring, but when I answer it's all dead air, and when I pick it up to make a call, more dead air. So I have to pay my phone bill.

I'm doing pretty okay though. I'm surviving at any rate.

A friend of mine committed suicide last spring, leaving behind her children. She hung herself. Her face was black in the coffin and they put a cloth over her throat. She was buried next to the church on her reserve. We went to the funeral. I was so shocked that she did that. I thought about the last time I talked to her, she had sounded okay. I guess that's the thing about suicide, it's always a shock.

I'm not suicidal anymore, but I was for a while after my episode. It was just this generalized black cloud hanging over me, whispering kill yourself, kill yourself. I got rid of it with antidepressants. Thank god for antidepressants.

My new task is to try and get three videos onto DVD for my CFC application. I'm somewhat excited for it, I really hope I get in. I am also STILL waiting to hear about my grant. I really hope I get it. I didn't get my smaller grant, which is okay. But this one, eeeee, I hope to get it, I really do.

I'm also on the waiting list for Co-Op Rainbow Housing, which rents out one bedroom places to people with disabilities and you can keep animals there. It's a year long waiting list, so hopefully I'll hear something in September.

Oh man!

It's January 11, and I still haven't heard about my grant. God am I ever nervous. I have two divergent futures based on this one grant, at least for the next year, and I really hope I get it because then I have an interesting future.

If not, oh lord, who knows what will happen to me. I need to find a full time job doing something I'm relatively good at. I don't know what.

I'm doing alright. Tomorrow night I am having Bouilliabase with my family. I don't know if I spelled it correctly. Oh well. I went with mum to get the fish bits at Charlies today.

I like going into the fish store, though I'm not too much into seafood. I like looking at all the different things. Lobsters, shrimps, octopus, frog legs, clams, etc. In Vancouver you could also look at the Geoducks. Pronounced, GooeyDucks, these weird clam things have huge penis like protuberances. Always entertaining.

Once I saw a slug eat icing off a birthday cup cake. Lynn had made them, and it was summer and we were out in the back porch in a DTES house. And it was night time, perfect slug weather.

One time I got a slug caught in my sandal as I was walking home in the dark with Lynn. EW! Slugs plus bare feet equals not nice.

Sugar, bring me sugar!

So anyway, I hope the more interesting option happens for my life, because I don't want to spend my time doing work for other people. I don't mind it, but it would be nice to be able to make some work for a while. I feel like I've been working for so long.

I should figure out some way to turn my screenplay into support material. I don't know how that would work.

I'm so bored lately. I need a new distraction. I need a new interest. Something exciting and wonderful has to happen soon.

Plus I have to get my CFC application in on the 28th. I need to get some reference letters and so on. And I have to put three videos onto a DVD. Oh man!

La la la

I'm applying for a new job as a screenprinter. I think it would be fun. I don't know why I think that but I do.

Life's going alright for me right now. I've made a resolution to treat myself better, ie doing laundry more often and so on. Mom used to keep telling me that unwashed clothes were a sign of mental illness. I guess I was depressed. I didn't have much energy. Now I'm a bit more alert. My creativity is down though. I need a project to work on to keep happy.

So far all my writing is on this blog, and I haven't blogged much lately.

I am finally starting to get over my last big love. I doubt I'll meet anyone this year though. And I really do need a new crush. On who, I don't know. Someone sexy and funny and slightly mysterious. Someone who'd be able to hang on through a manic episode.

It still makes me sad how my last affair ended. How depressing, to have a cruddy health problem cause such mayhem and destruction. It truly was the most catastrophic of all endings. So shitty. Blerg!

Anyway, I'm hoping I get this new job because I would dearly love to do something other than work in a call centre. I've just done that kind of work for so long. Screenprinting would be a good change. And I'd feel mildly more creative than I do now.

poops!

I still haven't heard about my grant and I'm nervous. It's 2008. Welcome 2008.

Mom found out today she didn't get her grant. Pretty sad.

I'm hoping this year I'll stop feeling sad about the breakup. It's been pretty hard on my recovery process.

I'm also quitting smoking for the upteenth time.

I had a quiet new years. I was at Divas briefly and then I went to mom's and rang in the new year with her. And I pretty much stayed at her house until now.

Tonight's my last night to hang out with Deanna Banana.

I found out Shrooms don't work on me! I tried them over Christmas and nothing happened while my cuz got ripped.

Must be the medication.

I really do miss that special girl I hung out with last year. She was amazing in all the right ways. And we had this special vampire fetish going on between us. I'd never gotten that close to thinking of bloodplay as being particularily sexy. Usually I'm a needles girl, but if she'd wanted to cut me I would have been all over it.

I don't do intravenous drugs though, not those kinds of needles.

I'm sleepy and today is my first day back at work. Only four hours and then I hang out with No Ass D.

Otherwise known as Deanna Banana.

She got the name after we sat down on a snowy stoop and I was the only one to leave an ass Print. We were both high on life. and she got the name, No Ass D. Which is funny because she really does have no ass, her pants are always falling down showing ass crack.

I HOPE 2008 is a better year.

Oh, I also decided to put off applying to grad school for one more year. I don't think I'm ready yet for grad school, and I want to stay in Saskatoon a little bit longer.

Yesterday Mister tried to bring a poop in the house, he was carryin it in his mouth! It made me think twice about letting him lick my face.

Thinking

This Christmas I got the stupidest present ever.

My sister gave me three fake pears. And that was it. What the hell?

I gave her bath bombs, that's way better than a fake pear.

Tomorrow night is the big tobogganing party.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about the terrible crazy break up and heart break.

It was with my first true love too, which made everything way more intense. Plus I haven't had strong feelings for someone in a long time.

And she also happened to be an exceptional kisser.

When she kissed me the whole world fell away. It was just that kind of a kiss. And she was just amazing, totally smart, funny, kinda morbid in a cool way. I really did have serious hopes about her. We just fit really well together.

I miss her. I would've married her.

So Thirza's Back

I had an excellent conversation with my friend Robin who said I was a hot butch and did I really think seriously about this and I dunno, I started talking about my doubts. Like, the breast thing, that nipple issue, it was enough to put me off. She was talking about how masculinity can live in a female body.

I guess that's what Shawna meant too, she told me about women who take on masculine pronouns but are still women. I'm not sure. Life's pretty confusing.

Besides, I kind of like being a girl. I don't know how to explain it. I love that I contradict myself over and over. Like, you would not believe how sexy this bra I'm wearing is.

I don't know what else to say about the gender switch, but I do like being a butch. I think there's something inherantly comfortable to me being butch. I just like it. I don't know why. I used to feel really uncomfortable with it, but I haven't been harrassed since I was in high school.

Of course, I lived in a big city for nine years.

The Vancouver Years. I miss them. I don't miss being hungry though.

So life is ticking along. It's almost Christmas. And it seems like September was only yesterday. I'm going tobogganing with my cousins at Diefenbaker Hill at night sometime soon.

I still miss the girl I went crazy on. Fuck I hate going crazy. Oh well. Heart break happens.

I think I'm finally getting over my depression. It's taken me a long time. I was so depressed. Oh my god. It was agony. But now I'm doing way better.

Grad Skool, Residencies

It's been hard recovering, but it's been harder to try and put some meaning on my life. Feeling that life is meaningless leads to depression, and suicidal thoughts. I know I have potential, but I don't feel like I have been living up to it.

Of course I've also applied for two grants, but I haven't heard back if I have gotten them or not yet.

Anyway, I needed to give myself some new goals. So now, besides applying to CFC's Directors Lab, I'm also applying to UBC and York to do my MFA. And I've decided that I have to apply for two residencies as well, one in Canada and one abroad, or in the US. SO THAT"S MY NEW GOAL1

Goals are important to have I think. I'm generally unhappy with my current lot in life, I have no girlfriend, I'm bummed out. I need a change. My life needs something drastically different. So grad school, residencies, yeah, that's about right.

It's been a year now since I saw UFO's, two of them, in an event that scared the living shit out of me. Life is pretty boring right now. I never saw them again. And now I'm just recovering from recovery. I started a part time job doing phones. I swore I would never do phones again, but I don't mind the work and I'm good at it.

Things in my life are pretty quiet.

missing

I haven't blogged in a while, so I thought I should. Sometimes, bein a writer, I feel this need to write something at least once in a while even if I feel down. Kind of like keeping a sick shark swimming so it doesn't die. It's been a long time anyway.

I've gotten stuck in a rut. I don't know how to describe it. I think the psych ward kind of makes it's own rut. Like they really do just try to keep crazy people fed and well slept, and that's the most they can hope for and it's the most you do to achieve. But the rest of life gets left out.

Plus I demolished some important relationships while I was crazy.

There's this song by Outkast, Back of the Bus, that makes me think of mania. Like, uh oh, here it comes! Mania! Oh man, I hate it. Mania I mean, the song is great.

Anyway, right now I'm still kind of in recovery, and anyway I got stuck in this rut. I go over to my mom's every day. But then I've always been like that. I used to visit Lynn and Stef a lot. But anyway, then I come home and smoke a joint and surf the net.

Maybe I'm depressed because I haven't been writing. Mostly I've been thinking, about this new journey I'm on to become a man. Life's weird.

Anyway, not much has changed in my life recently. I've been collecting EI and going around and around in a big circle through the city over to my mother's house and back again, visiting my dog and cat, and mum of course. And she has television. I miss television. And she has a fridge. And anyway, that's my rut. I do have some grants in to Canada Council and the Sask Arts Board. I'll hear sometime next month if I get them. If I do I'll be so relieved, then I'll have something to do. Instead of this rut.

I'm not even mildly interested in anything. I'm totally stuck. And I'm not sure how to improve my life because I'm not sure what it is I'm missing. It's like I've zoned out somewhere. I think being between writing projects is weird.

I feel kinda like a zombie. It's gross. But I know I'm just missing something in my life.

Post Mania

Mania sucks ass. If you don't believe me, ask any bipolar person. It's embarrassing, like having a big mental shit all over the place. I'm so glad it is over.

I'm still looking for places to live. I saw one really nice apartment and put my name in, haven't heard back yet. I hope I get it though, it's just scuzzy enough to fit my tastes. I mean old, it's in a really old building, which are the kinds of buildings I prefer.

What is it about an old building? I used to think I wouldn't like them because of ghosts. But in truth, I've never had a ghost issue while I've lived in an old building. I did once have a poltergeist issue with a roommate of mine, she just always attracted that kind of energy. And I saw stuff move around while she was abouts, which was always kind of creepy. Not to disparage her, she's pretty cool, but poltergeists, ai ai ai! Messy rude things.

Enough about ghosts, how am I?

Well, I'm still getting better in increments. I'm still excited and waiting to get on hormones. I'm not sure when it will happen, it seems to involve a lot of waiting time to see people, beyond when I'm finally officially stabilized in the eyes of my doctor. I think she's waiting for me to be less depressed, which is slowly abating. In truth I don't think I'm depressed so much as bored. Not working has been boring. Tomorrow I start at this psych rehab place for eight weeks, I think it's a lot of group activities and so on, but I'll be getting out with other people which is good. I have also started applying for jobs again, although my EI doesn't run out for nine months. But I think I'd rather be out in the world than stuck at home on EI.

Cause you're always putting me down . . .

That's from a Cranberries song line. I like it, because it's so generalized. You're ALWAYS putting me down. ALWAYS. Without fail.

Anyway, I am working on a grant right now to make a short film based on a short piece of prose I once wrote about vampires, it will probably only be a three minute film. Film! I'm going to shoot it on a bolex and edit on a steenbeck. It should be ridiculously fun to make. I haven't touched celluloid in quite a while!

I just deleted my maniac blog, which made me feel really happy. I hate havin to delete blogs, but this is the second maniac blog I've deleted in my life. I sense a pattern. And that makes this, I guess, my post maniac blog, which is what Fit of Pique was for so long.

I'm kinda proud of fit of pique, and I kind of miss it, but I'm glad to be moving into a different territory. This one I'm assuming will be about trying to get Bunnyhug made, and making different shorts, and stuff like that. I'm working on a short and a longer project. The longer project is about coming out as trans and so on. I'm hoping it turns out well.

I have an apartment to look at tomorrow, which is exciting because I really really really want to move. It's a studio apartment and I can have my cat there, which is also good. I'm waiting to live with my dog again for when I move into this rainbow co-op housing. I dunno what else to say in this blog. I'm still getting better by increments. I was kind of down this morning, but I'm quitting smoking, so that could be it. Because I'm always putting me down . . . Actually I got a budget done for one of my projects, so I am happy about that.

Boredom.

I found out that I am not getting that place in October or November, I guess the guys living there decided to stay. Unfortunately there is a housing crisis here in Saskatoon, which means things are a little lean on the home front. My mom's going to be keeping my dog until I get into a housing co-op, which has a waiting list of about a year. I feel bad for having to leave my dog behind, but he's pretty happy here, and I'll visit him all the time.

I finally wrote my final report for Canada Council for my screenplay, now all I have to do is throw it in the mail. yay! That means I'll be able to write my next grant, for XX Marks The Spot, a look at gender and the genome, and my homelands.

Aside from that I am just struggling with a mild depression. I am wondering if people can die from boredom. According to the sign at the bin, boredom is a choice. Who would choose it though?

Here in Banff

Well I'm here in Banff for the Interactive Screen 0.7. Last night someone got accidentally hit in the head with a video projector. All I can say is dude, that totally sucks! I'd feel so guilty if I accidentally hit someone in the head with a large heavy object like that. The projector was okay but he still has a headache and some neck pain.

I'm working on my dangerous bird project, I've been having issues with it, but I think it finally makes some sense now. It's not so complicated as I thought it would be. I want to go take some pictures out at Cranberry Flats when I get back to town.

I'm thinking I want to go see the St. Louis Ghost Train when I get back too. I don't know when. But I went last summer and was disappointed, so I want to go again and see if it makes any sense this time. Anyway, yeah.

My transitioning is weird, I am supposed to wait for myself to stabilize, but I feel pretty stable right now. Hmm. Recovering from a manic episode sucks ass man. I'm glad the rough parts of it are over though.

Anyway, I think I might deek into the dining hall and eat early, so that's where I'm headed now.

Having the time of your life . . .

Stoned love . . . I'm supposed to quit pot, but I don't wanna. I guess it's my one weak spot in the armour, but I can't help it. Everyone needs at least one vice in order to be a fully rounded member of society in my view. Unfortunately I also have the vice of smoking, which is an unruly, expensive, smelly habit, with little to no redeeming value. I had quit for a number of months until I ended up back in the bin.

I don't know how to describe smoking and being in the bin. I think it's really difficult to quit in that kind of situation, because it's often the only socially acceptable behaviour that everyone can agree on. Plus at the bin I was in, it was the only excuse to leave the ward and go stand by the river in nearly idyllic surroundings. You would not believe the number of smokers in the bin.

But the nice part about smoking is that it was a chance to bond with fellow patients. Leaving the judgemental gaze of the nurses was nice, and people could swap tips on how to get out quicker.

I got released MOSTLY because I was ready to be released, but also partially because there was a looming strike vote among the social workers and pharmacists, and they needed people out as quick as possible. For a brief time, the only requirements for release was that you had somewhere to sleep. I remember one fellow patient telling me "I prayed to God so hard that they would strike!" They didn't strike, but they did go from having 30 beds to having 10, and that was extreme. Luckily I was ready to leave.

Recovery from a manic episode takes a long damn time though. I keep feeling better with each week that passes, but it's hard. I do notice a difference though, as time slowly ticks by I have more energy, slightly more optimism. I don't know how to explain the humiliation that happens after each episode abates, but it's crushing. Luckily for the most part I can forget it, except that I ruined an awfully lovely relationship of sorts with an awfully lovely person, and that it probably what still haunts me today. I don't know how to get over that.

Don't bogart that joint my friend . . .

Encounters with the Unknown

it's a nice calm Sunday morning. I'm drinking coffee and reading Facebook. I don't know why I get addicted to these sites except that it's nice reading about my friends. I've decided to apply for the directors lab at the Canadian Film Centre in Toronto. I think I need a chance to work on my directorial skills. Sometimes I'm not too sure about them, but I know if I got more training I would have it down pat. So far I've only directed my friends and myself, so a little more work on my skills would be good.

In less than a week I'll be at Banff, working on a new project, Dangerous Bird. It's kind of a funny ode to the war on terror, with a cryptozoology twist.

I've been seriously considering joining a local ghost hunting group, on the paranormal end of things. I've been wanting to join one for ages. All I know about ghost hunting I learned from Yvette Fielding! Seriously though, I've had way too many encounters with the unknown to dismiss ghosts. I think poltergeists are the scariest ones I've run into. They are so crabby. Anyway, it would also be a good chance for me to meet more people in this town, which is something I need to do. I'm glad to notice I'm steadily expanding my repetoire of friends here in Saskatoon. I really didn't have too many before.

Transitioning to a guy is a funny process. So far it's been getting people used to my new name, the pronouns are taking a while to come to people's lips though. I'm doing good but I'll be glad when the FTM group starts again. I need to have some support in this. I dunno. It's good to have support groups for this kind of stuff. I'm excited about starting hormones although I don't know when it will happen. Sometime in the next year I guess. It's irritating having to wait, but I'm glad I'll be stabilized when it starts. I have no idea how moody I'll get. But that one shot I had didn't make me feel like, ragey or moody or anything. In fact, I felt perfectly normal.

Maybe that's how my transition will be. Just normal. I hope so. Testosterone: An Encounter With the Unknown.

I'm sitting in my mother's basement scratching my brains for some new information to put here. Well, in a week and a bit I am heading off to Banff for Interactive Screen 0.7. I'm not entirely sure what to expect, except that it will be fun and I will get to work on a new project. There are a lot of panels and so on, so it should be exciting, I hope. There's rumours that it's the hot place to go in Canada for sex, but I dunno, my sex drive is pretty pitiful these days.

We just got through some record heatwaves and I really noticed how they affected my mood, I got all depressed and listless and felt hopeless. Some of that is due to my housing situation, and now a new situation in regards to my finances. I'm feeling pretty good but not good enough to work, and my illness benefits with E.I. are coming to an end. This means I have to get a letter from my doctor saying I'm ready to go back to work or I have to go on Social Assistance entirely until I move in October, HOPEFULLY. I say hopefully because the worst case scenario is that I can't move until November. Everything seems so up in the air right now. And I'm still waiting for my doctor to decide I am stabilized enough to get on hormones. That could be a few months still.

Not to mention I am getting packer envy. I really want a Mr. Right packer, and that's not going to happen for a while yet. I also really want a chest binder and that's in the works for later on when I can find a talented seamstress who is up to the task. I asked my friend Megan but she was non-commital, which makes sense since she's really busy these days. It will happen, I know.

And one more month until the FTM group gets going again. LIFE IS WEIRD> I'm missing having a proper working keyboard for my computer in case you were wondering. Sometimes it goes to all caps for no reason.

I've decided to apply to the CFC for the Director's Program, which is about five months. I'm thinking I should do SOMETHING, and they want you to have a feature screenplay for it. The tuition is a fair chunk, but I think my band will cover it.

Be an artist and see what happens

Things have been weird around here. My cousin got beat up by some random strangers, and it kind of freaked me out about the issues of random violence here in Saskatoon. It's pretty funny too after living in the Downtown Eastside for a year or whatever. Big City random violence hasn't happened to that many people I know. I got beat up once in Saskatoon, it scared the shit out of me. I mean, I just don't understand people who hit.

Or yell. Yelling wigs me out. Especially at children.

In Indian families cousins are like sisters and brothers. And all my cousins are pretty cool, now that they are older. I feel particularly bad for my one cousin though who got beat up because he was trying to clean up his act.

I think I've reached a turning point in my life. Being in a care home has given me the chance to leave the house with as many different people as possible, so I'm actually getting a bit of a life. And the NMAI is putting up a Close Up on me on their website, which will be cool. And I'm going to Banff soon, which will be fun. I need to go be an artist and see what happens.

The Wetigo Hunter

I just wrote the first two minutes of The Wetigo Hunter. I feel like maybe I sped things up a bit, faster than they should be. It's hard writing the first two minutes, I want it to be perfect. It opens with a character called Erika, a vampire. It's pretty hot. She has a transgendered lover she feeds on, pretty kinky stuff!

I like screenplay writing. This one I think I will write in my spare time while I do my documentary. If I can get my screenplay produced I will have access to Greenberg funding for screenplay writing. Mostly it's also a good idea to have screenplays written for the next time people ask "What are you working on?" Especially when I get Bunnyhug produced. I like how Bunnyhug turned out, I'm really happy with it, and that's a good thing. There were times when I was just pissed off at it, it wasn't turning out the way I wanted, parts of it didn't jive with other parts, etc etc. It was definitely a learning process.

Finding a producer is rough so far though. I feel like I don't know any! Although my uncle is a producer. Bunnyhug could be, like, the landmark aboriginal comedy!! About survival through poverty and madness! You never know!

Weight Loss

One unusual and hopefully permanent trend is my weight loss. Back when I was on Zyprexa I packed on about 60 pounds, ugh! Not that fat is bad, just that it started to get really hard on me physically and what with having to buy newer and bigger clothes all the time.

Now I'm down about 30 pounds, and I seem to keep losin weight. The drugs I am on are rumoured to cause weight gain, but right now I seem to have plateaued into baggy jeans that are practically falling off my body. It's a nice change I must admit, I just hope it doesn't go back towards fat because I don't think my reduced budget will afford me to buy new clothes.

Unfortunately it also means my breasts shrank, which is good on the trans front and not so good on the fact that I spent $300 on new bras.

In truth, I like my new improved body, it seems to fit me better, I like being able to see my toes again. And I hope hope hope that I don't pack on weight like I did the last tim on these kinds of meds.

crazy sucks

It sucks going crazy. I think one of the nicer things about bipolar disorder is that it doesn't make one crazy forever. In fact there are LONG stretches of sanity that extend for years even. But going crazy, fuck it sucks. I hate it. I especially hate the dreary energy loss I have right now. want to just go straight back to bed, but instead I am having a coffee and trying to go on with the day.

Last night I spent 55 minutes standing in line for the new Harry Potter book, which I have and assumed I would speed read. Instead I am slowly perusing it and writing here.

It's nice to be blogging again though. I missed that. I also missed writing, it's been nice to be writing my screenplay again. And now I'm writing another one!!! It starts with a party in a country house, when a piercing scream shatters the marijuana riddled peace of some rural kids
. . .

Life's like that

That is the sexiest video ever!!! There's a program you can get where you can make videos like that. think it's called Rotoshop, if I remember it correctly. It's based on an old timey animation process called Rotoscoping where you paint or draw over live action footage. I've always wanted to try it but Linklater's film company uses it exclusively and always will, or at least until he's done with that type of film work.

Anyway, this is really my celebratory post because yes, I finished that screenplay finally, and I'm so glad! I've been working on it forever and I think I am really proud of it. It achieved what I wanted it to anyway. I have to fix the beginning though, because I used an older version of my screenplay to finish and I forgot to put on the beginning, oops! Next I'm doing a documentary, as I mentioned before, and I'm also going to be working on my next screenplay, about some vampire lovers. I've always wanted to do the sexy vampire movie, but with like, a message besides "Doesn't this look hot!" One where the vampires were the protagonists, like really sexy hot vampire protagonists, with ethics about their feeding and so on. That being said, it's still going to be a bit of a horror film. I was thinking one of the vampires would be like the bottom, but an immortal bottom, and so in a symbiotic process they both need each other in order to live. And then there's a killer. And then there are also some drunken wetigo hunters who start persecuting the vampires, and this question hanging through the whole film of "Is there really a wetigo somewhere around here?" And maybe the vampire starts turning into a wetigo and so they have to stop the process. I dunno. It's going to be complex.

The screenplay I just finished is pretty good though. I wanted a love story about madness. I think it works. It's funny though, it's REALLY funny, and that's a good thing, because it has to be a bit of a complex feel good. Because you know, movies like One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and Girl, Interrupted, are about SANE people stuck in looney bins, like that kind of trauma is okay for crazy people but not for these clearly sane people. And so I wanted to make the point that even for crazy people, some aspects of psych ward treatment are NOT GOOD! Like restraints. Restraints are dehumanizing.

I got sexually assaulted in the psych ward the first time I was in there, it was harsh. I'm pretty much healed from it now, but then it took over four years to get over it. Sometimes life's like that.

Issues and Tissues

Probably the worst thing about a manic episode is the memory loss. I totally forgot my password to my old email address, and rather than trying to remember it again I am just using a new one. All my distributors have it which was the main important thing, and then my friends are slowly finding out my new one care of Facebook. Thank god for the name change option on Facebook. I did a coming out where I gathered up as many people as I knew and then changed my gender and then changed my name. The Canada Council knows my new name too now. So all that's left is for me to go and do a legal name change. I'm not sure what to do with my middle name. I'm not switching Jean into Gene, that's for sure. I don't like how Gene looks. Sorry Gene. No Sarain Gene Cuthand for me, although the genetic irony of it is kind of funny. I think I will just go with Sarain Cuthand. Period.

Speaking of periods, that's one thing I WON'T miss. I'm just washing up some spotted laundry right now and thank god. I hate periods, not on other people, just my own. So messy! So expensive. It costs like, nine bucks worth of pads every time I have my period. Think of all the landfill the millions of women in Canada use just for period products! Not to begrudge women, who after all have to pay for all that soon to be landfill. There are reusable period products though, but I never got it together to do that kind of thing.

There was this one weird part when I was really crazy where I had total empathy for every living thing. I guess you could call that enlightenment but it was fuckin' intense. I didn't even want to swat mosquitos because I felt their pain too much. It's hard for a meat eater to live with. I guess I should give up on Buddhism because the bacon calls my name. I can't help it, I love bacon. I love bacon in the morning with blue berry pancakes.

One birthday I decided to make myself crepes, I think I turned 22 or something, and I decided I had to have ONE foolproof recipe for when I had a femme lover. So I made myself crepes and mimosas for breakfast that birthday, blueberry mango crepes. They were divine! I love crepes. Anyway, yes, I did get to use that recipe for a lover one morning, back when I was dating Amber Dawn, the Uber Femme. She was most appreciative. She made me gnocci in return, which was so good.

There's something nice about making food back and forth between lovers, it's intimate in a way that goes along with sex very nicely. Kind of like "well, we've been inside each other THAT way, now let's be inside each other THIS way." I don't know how to describe it.

I think I'm getting that ugly duckling feeling every trans person has their first year. I know I'll make a cute boy, I'm excited about that, but at the same time I feel sad and worry I won't find someone who will want to be with that cute boy. Apparently this feeling is really common. Sadness!!! Then again, I am also just out of the hospital and sad about a weird thing that happened between myself and someone I was intimate with at one period in my life and anyway, yeah, it just makes me sad all around.

I don't want to say too much about it, just that it turned out we both had one particular kink ever since high school and it looked like it might happen, then I fucked up and went crazy!!! Anyway, I still have this moose she gave me in high school. When I turned eighteen. I shouldn't say I have it actually, For whatever weird reason I lent it to Adrian Stimson and he's been so busy I haven't been able to get it back yet until he returns from Calgary.

You know, the hospital really wasn't so bad this time around. Sharing a room for two months sucked though, and I am sharing a room again in this home. I shouldn't have to tell you why sharing a room sucks. I might be going to another home that does more proactive work in getting people back on their feet, but that depends on a lot of things, like if they will have space for one thing.

The snoring drove me spare one night. I have since acquired some ear plugs in case it happens again. And this time she used toilet paper but instead of putting it in the toilet where it rightfully belongs, it went into the trashcan BESIDE the toilet. EW!!!! That was just gross. and in the middle of the night she turned on a faucet and then left it running and went back to bed. I'm going to be so glad when she moves out at the end of the month. This is the same woman who took my medication AND her own one night. I can't believe it! She's so dotty, I think she must have dementia on top of whatever her issue is.

It's true, we all have issues, but please put the tissues in the appropriate receptical.

God I'm a fag!

I'm actually waiting for my doctor to decide I am stabilized mood wise for testosterone. It's kind of like going through a cross between puberty and menopause, so waiting is a good idea in terms of mood.

It seems there is an FTM group that has regular meetings, but not in the summer. So I'm also waiting for Fall to arrive so I can start attending.

I also got a scholarship to go to the Banff Centre for the Arts this spring to work on a web project with video, so I am waiting for the middle of August to go off and be a professional artist instead of a professional nutter. And I have to write up a profile for myself for the Santa Fe screening, so that's happening too. And basically I am also waiting around to find out when I can move into my new place this fall, which means I am also waiting around to find out when I need to put up a poster at the Avenue centre for a roommate. Whew! It's a lot of waiting. Tonight I am waiting to go to the Harry Potter launch at McNally Robinson. I look sort of like Harry Potter, which is the funny part. I don't know, I even have a scar on my face that I got when I was a baby, it was a slip during a caesarean section. I think I spelled that wrong. If I was up to my old self I would go and spell check that but I'm not.

I hated the idea of going into a care home, for a lot of reasons, but now I am kind of relieved I'm in one, for now, just because I realized how exhausted I am from being in the hospital. No way would I be able to do simple things like feed myself on time and do the laundry and clean, which is basically what I get being in the home. I'm not traumatized from the hospital this time, which is REALLY good. I was super traumatized in Montreal and this time I mostly had to deal with the shock of returning to the regular world. After a while you get used to relying on nurses and orderlies to tell people to be nice, and then suddenly it's over, and you have to rely on the kindness of strangers, to borrow from Miss Dubois, in order to get through the world. No more being able to wander up to someone and say "That person is bothering me."

That being said, no one is bothering me, except for the day I went to Bare Ass Beach with my Aunt Lori and someone started throwing around firecrackers. Even nine years of Vancouver Halloweens still doesn't prepare me for trying to laze around in mid summer with firecrackers going off.

Then again Vancouver Halloween firecrackers have the leg up based in context. Everyone in Vancouver just KNOWS that firecrackers and fireworks go off on Halloween. It's just a local tradition, and for as long as I lived there that's the way things were.

Saskatoon still, to me, anyway, has this uncomfortable element of surprise. You're never really TOO sure what will happen in Saskatoon, even though from the outside it seems like a same old kind of small city. Like the lights outside of town, I mean, what the hell were those? Someone suggested they were nature deities of some sort, which I can believe. And the incredible amount of ghost stories I have heard in this city are phenomenal. There's something strange afoot in this town.

But what this city really needs to go on the map is a major film festival. Yorkton's been running for ages, but Saskatoon really should have some kind of festival. I am trying to start one, but I'm pretty exhausted right now. And what with trying to find a producer for my film AND recovering AND transitioning AND applying for a big ass grant to do a documentary on my transition While charting the migratory roots of my genome, well, what's a boy to do?

My mental health team are pretty impressed with how I'm coming along though, apparently I am recovering fairly fast. It's the energy that I miss though. Not manic energy, just enough energy to get through the day, I keep napping, I don't have much energy to go for walks or even play basketball. I'm losing weight though, which is a good thing. I have to wear a belt all the time and I'm going back to old pants that didn't use to fit me.

Once I had to give away a pair of Gaultier pants because I didn't fit them anymore, and I just about DIED! They were Gaultier!!! God I'm a fag.

Being Sarain

It's been odd this summer, to come out in such a public way. And yet I kind of think all trans coming outs must be sort of like this, if you are lucky enough to live among queer people already. The manic episode did nothing but fuel my confusion, only to see the whisps of madness fade away until I realized, yes, I am a man, and needing to do something about it as soon as possible.

Unfortunately the referral to the hormones doctor is rumoured to take up to six months. The recovery time from this episode could take another few months. And the saddest news of all, my new apartment won't be ready for me to move in until October or November. Which means I'll be living in this care home for another two and a half months at least. Ai ai ai!

I've grown comfortable though with the pronouns, the he him his stuff. I'm still using my packer and still feeling okay with it, although I still want to upgrade to a silicone softy one. My dog still loves me and that is good.

Actually a lot of people are really supportive of me right now and that is really nice. I've been finding some old friends on Facebook and then basically people I haven't seen but know. Right now I'm up to 139 friends, which is a big relief because sometimes I forget I have friends.

One of my best friends is sick right now and her auntie just died. I wanted to go visit but I would have to take public transport and I only have two bus tickets left. I'm planning to use them to go get my discounted bus and leisure pass. It's been a weird summer.

The doctors and nurses keep harping on marijuana being bad for me. I've been pretty much sober ever since the hospital, which might be why I'm recovering so fast. At the same time it's pretty hard to imagine life completely devoid of pot. I miss it, a lot, but I know it's better to get some time away from what thoughts made me all paranoid and whatever. I'm thinking really clearly now, although a bit depressed. French and Saunders on Youtube are entertaining me though.

Anyway, off to bed I go, to re-read "What they did to Princess Paragon" which is the most funny book for summer reading. I highly recommend it.

Visit with Psychiatrist and Community Mental Health Nurse

So I'm supposed to get referred to another psychiatrist to deal with my trans issues. Apparently my shrink is better suited to the bipolar aspects of me. On that front apparently I am recovering really well, my sleeping is supposed to be pretty normal and I am getting used to my medication. I'm going to A Bipolar Education Group and I'm also supposed to be finding out about starting a psychiatric rehab day program, which would give me something to do in the days. I've been pretty wiped out frm my manic episode, as one can imagine. I lost 30 pounds in the space of a month or something, which is kind of good but kind of not. I get 130 bucks a month spending money while I live in this mental health approved home, and that can't pay for new clothes. I smoke again, which is also bad because it wipes out some of my money for other fun things I could be doing instead. Luckily this is all a temporary situation. LUCKILY since for the rest of the month I'm bunking with an elderly schizophrenic woman I've secretly dubbed Poo-Television Lady, since she can't seem to grasp the concept of where to find the toilet paper and believes everything on the television is really happening. Especially troublesome since one of the other bipolar women in the house is addicted to Turner Classic Movies.

Ted Turner also has bipolar. I'm telling you, WE RUN THE FREAKN WORLD! now you know why everything seems insane!

Anyway, my mum found some of my old shorts and the one that fits my new bulge the best is ironically a total girl's pair of shorts. They look butch but the label says girl something on it. Or SOMETHING GIRL> hey, that could be a new label!

And on the catwalk, capri's by Something Girl, pret a porter.

I do my little turn on the catwalk.

I should go, I have to get back to internetless land and weather sharing yet another night in the room with Poo-Television Lady.

I'm used to poop because of my sister, but that still doesn't make it fun. No scatplayer here!

Oh yeah, anyway the nurse and the pdoc both think I'm doing well for how extremely manic I was. I think I'm doing well too.

One of the funnier things I said when I was crazy was that my Ex, Velveeta, was going to show a video of my asshole contracting and expanding at the Whitney, and that it was called Story of the Eye and it was about George W. Bush. I was an asshole really, but I still think that was the funniest manic myth I spun.

There really is a video of my asshole in the possession of One Velveeta Krisp. We shot it at ECIAD in 2001. She denies it's mine, apparently it's just meant to be The Anonymous Asshole.

Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and being trans

If you don't know who Elizabeth Kubler-Ross is, she wrote all about the emotional stages of dying and death. Being trans isn't about dying, but the idea is triggered in my head that it is a type of death of sorts. I think maybe shedding a skin is a better idea of what it feels like.

Ever since I have finally for sure for sure come out as a man, things have really changed and I've realized I have a lot to discover about myself. For one thing, I'm coming out as a bisexual man. THAT is quite the turn from being a lesbian. Also I've got to say, I'm still more attracted to women than to men, which brings up all kinds of bad feelings the queer community seems to have about bisexuals. It's an entirely different set of identity issues which I have to deal with now, like getting a new deck of cards.

And yet I never felt that I fit in as a lesbian. I fit in as butch, and that's totally a different thing because that's more about gender presentation than sexual orientation. I was always getting weird looks about why I identified with and was attracted to bisexual women more than other lesbians.

That all being said, the lesbian community was a great place to grow up in, especially in the 90's. I don't know why. Maybe because that's when a huge wave of transgendered activism and art suddenly poured out of that era. I could relate to that far more easily than the lesbian community, for obvious reasons, but I still think there was kind of a pansexual playfulness to the times that I latched onto.

I doubt you can find a single lesbian in this day and age who hasn't seen a friend decide to transition. I know there is always a sort of sadness at seeing ANOTHER butch decide to be a man. Maybe I didn't transition earlier because I didn't want to cause sadness, even though it made for a conflicted me. I think a lot of transgendered people were kind of like "Okay, when is he coming out already? Let's place bets!"

When I was nineteen I think I really knew I was probably going to transition, but I put it off. I just remember very clearly looking at myself in a mirror and while I have a nice female body, realizing it still wasn't what I was envisioning for myself. The breasts especially. I really never knew how to deal with those. And the periods, I never liked my period because it seemed like such a pain in the ass.

There are some weird questions I have to ask another trans person about how my body will be after hormones, but maybe they are too intimate to list here. I know I'm excited about how certain things will develop, like my voice and my facial features and hair and muscles and things like that.

Right now life is kind of weird because I'm in a ladies care home. LADIES!!! I still go to the women's washroom because I'm still very very female bodies. I'm pretty much wearing a packer all the time. That's a type of useless flaccid male genitalia made out of various sundry household goods, I'm hoping to buy a real packer sometime soon. I haven't bound my breasts yet because I'm waiting to try and make one with my friends Cindy and Megan. Chest surgery is going to cost about $4000. There's a surgeon in town who does them. I have no idea when I'll have the cash to do that.

And the hormones, if my doctor is sympathetic enough I might be able to start on them soon. It takes about 2 years for the big effect, and changes continue for about ten years. Some men say it's like going through a second puberty. And my puberty was bleak!!!!

It's also funny because I am transitioning to a feature filmmaker as well. I'm going to be making an hour long documentary about researching my families various homelands AND the process of transitioning. It will be funny I hope, parts of it anyway.

Then of course there is the fact that violence happens a lot to trans people. Maybe that's where the Kubler-Ross stuff caught my eye. And there is a lot of depression and suicide that can occur. All these landmines in the way of me just trying to be true to myself and become someone I feel comfortable with. It's a lot to take in.

And it doesn't help that a Nelly Furtado song on the radio keeps making me feel weird!!!!

This is a wicked video "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley

Before I go for the day, I found the link to "A Trailer for the remake of Gore Vidal's Caligula"!!!

Check it out homes!

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&VideoID=8127419

Connecting with the trans community

It's kind of bizarre knowing now I am moving into a phase of my life where I'm learning to accept becoming part of a minority that is hated and feared and bashed on and so on and so forth. On the other hand, that's been the case with most of my identity issues.

Today I went for lunch with a contact person to get in touch with the FTM community here. It was a nice lunch, and anyway I found out the good news which is that I might be able to get on hormones sooner rather than later, depending on what my doctor thinks. This week I have an appointment to see my psychiatrist and then my mental health nurse, so I'll talk to them more about it. There is supposed to be ANOTHER psychiatrist in town I will have to see for consultations and then a doctor who's going to monitor my hormones and see how that goes. I dunno. It's all pretty complicated, the medical aspect of it, when the very simple basics are just me jabbing my butt every two weeks with a needle and getting my boobs reduced. I think it's the mental aspects of it that are intense, learning to live like a man and so on and so forth.

Learning to be a NICE man especially, I've seen way too many guys try on the brute aspect of it and that doesn't suit me. Even if I was born genetically male, I STILL wouldn't be too enamoured of the shovey angry punch other guys kind of guy model.

Hormones!!!! I'll let you know as soon as I get a prescription.

Making chest compressors

I'm having a Coming Out Party with a bunch of my friends, hopefully, and anyway, SO FAR after the terrible spring the coming out as a boy seems to be ging well. People just seem to want me happy and that is good. I am slowly recovering mental health wise as well, I'm kind of lazy these days, but that's a medication side effect. I'm living with an old lady with schizophrenia who took my medication one night AND yells at the television. Well, shakes her finger at it anyway. I seem to be wearing my packer when I am out of the house. It's pretty weird.

I hear my weiner dog barking, I should go. I had a nice time on the computer today though, I found out some interesting stuff about chest compressors. I think I am going to try and make one.

USB Gender Changers and E Cup Dudes.

Gmail suggests sites for people to look at based on what you write about. So imagine my surprise when it suggested I look at USB Gender Changers.

In fact, when I went crazy I tried to ressurect an ipod with a dead hard drive. None of my IT Priest skills came in handy, not even wrapping a rosary around a USB cable. I guess this means I'm back to my Pagan roots. I even recycled it because I'm trying to be kind to the environment. And throwing an ipod into the garbage just seemed sacreligious.

It's true I love Mac IT work. I applied to minacs once to do tech support but they never got back to me. Have you ever seen a dead mac icon? Oh, it sends chills down your spine! At least my computer is happy with me.

I've decided to apply to Canada Council to do a documentary this next year about tracing my genomes AND doing a gender transition. I am going to learn about borders and crossing the borders while doing it. I doubt I will do any filming in airports, but I will say how border crossings went. I'm hoping to get to a tribe in Asia with my uncle, but we'll see. I was hoping to get on a Camel while the song My Humps plays!

It's such a goofy song! My lovely lady bumps. Check em out!

Oh yeah, and here's a dude complaining about those leftover lady bumps. I know the feeling being a freakin' E CUP DUDE!

Little People

I recently heard from my Auntie that little people will chase you and some times they beat up men! Oh no! Something else to worry about after transitioning!

Little people are known the world over, but in Cree culture we try to live with them and their antics. Apparently they are really really ugly, and about 2 feet tall and move quick, faster than you can believe. They like shiny things and sugar, and people sometimes put out bundles of sugar for them.

In my family they have been seen by at least two cousins and my mother. But I'm sure more people have seen them. We just call them little people, and they are more of a supernatural type of being. I've also heard they like to live around waterways.

One thing you should never do is make fun of them or otherwise provoke them if you spot one, and try not to get angry when they start throwing peas at you or whatever. Some people even just live with them and build tiny furniture for them. I've heard of at least two wearing cowboy hats. They are very much a real phenomenon, and I for one always respectfully leave out sugar if I hear there have been little people wandering around some place I am living.

The Little People, a Cree exercise in supernatural tolerance and acceptance. Just try not to get the fuck beat out of you by dating a woman they are keen on.

This is STILL the sexiest song ever!

Friend For Dinner by HK119

Feeling woozy

I really shouldn't read about chest reconstruction after supper.

The one good thing about going manic AND coming out as male is that I got to say I identified as male before doing all my stupid shit and vacillating and being a general creep and then be all "Oh yeah, I'm still a guy. A STUPID GUY! OH MAN SO STUPID!" But I still think there was something interesting in all of this . . .

Like the fact that fuck it, when I have manic psychosis, for some reason Nina Hagen and The Doors make sense.

Trying not to be a bad manlady.

I had the worst spring EVER this year, and I think most of it was around coming out as male. I kind of ran through all the worst characteristics a guy could have in manic record time and then felt like a dickhead. Ugh. I so don't want to have to go through this coming out process again. There are two books about transmen at the library and then that is it. Maybe I should find some tranny site for new books to read. I know Little Sisters has some transsexual erotica, that would be nice to have.

Being in a "ladies" care home is kind of bizarre too, because obviously I'm closeted there, but At Least it is only until September. Then I'm in a place of my own again.

I'm still so embarrassed I was a bad manlady this spring, so fucking terrible!!!! I don't want to be a bad manlady ever again!!!

Name Change and Nipples

The name change was a no-brainer but scary as hell. Sarain is the name I would have had if I was born biologically male. He was also a man who wrote some inspirational stuff in Indian Country and basically lead a legendary life. What we know of him is that he was the son of an aboriginal man stationed in Italy, Sarain was actually his last name. He came over to the Americas and started a wave of intensely influential aboriginal artists while teaching art at a tiny Aboriginal college here in Saskatchewan. He drowned in 1975 in the gulf of Mexico while swimming. He was about 30 years old. Now here I am at 29 becoming a man, becoming Sarain, and some of the parallels with our lives shake me up a bit. I started an international video career the same year my dad was in Venice with a show about Sarain Stump, The Man. The Legend. The one who freaks me out because he painted a Kundalini awakening with Quetzalcoatl. I mean, there are other things I can't tell you because they are too intense.

I think seeing those lights out at Cranberry Flats is tied into this fear I have around becoming Sarain, because I recently found out through an old high school friend that someone who goes to the nude beach has seen them out there too. I'm starting to think that maybe they were spirits or deities of some sort. And the fact that I'm two-spirited and that there were two of them makes me think it was about the impending fight in my own body between staying female or becoming male.

I am now virtually gender changing on Facebook and here on Blogger. To Sarain Cuthand. I already gathered 115 friends under my old name and I hope the name change on facebook, and the gender, is enough of a huge announcement to everyone about who I am now. Of course whether I am the reincarnation of the late Sarain Stump is an unanswerable question unless I start remembering things about that life. I did have a brief fascination with Venice once, but I think it was more like memory. And I have some memories of Mexico too, even though I have never been there.

You might laugh to find out that my biggest concern about transitioning is my nipples, but I've been cruising around Transster, a site for surgery photos for transmen, and I have to say, owie-ya!!!! I want the least amount of damage done to my chest as possible. I was hoping for the liposuction option, but apparently I have too large a chest to be able to do it. I'm getting excited about having a male chest, but the things they would have to do in order to reshape it concern me. I have seen some photos where they don't have to do nipple grafts, but other than that they just cut them off and slap them on somewhere else, and the sensation is pretty minimal from what I hear. I don't want to lose nipple sensation. Unfortunately a lot of people do, as with many trans surgeries for mtf's in the bottom department.

I doubt I will get bottom surgery though, because I like the idea of all my bits just, ya know, growing on their own. I know some of my FTM friends turn into secret dicklet size queens. Maybe I'll be one too!

Still, it's the nipples that worry me. I'm excited about how my new body will feel, but just worried about my chest. I like my nipples, if not so much my breasts.

Fuck it, I'm trans

It's weird to think that at 29 I am finally getting ready to transition after countless trannies starting with the Infamous David Harrison have been nudging at me since adolescence. I guess I wanted to be sure. I remember at 19 looking at my body in the full length mirror of my apartment and just going "Oh that is SO NOT ME!"

It's a general understatement that often trannies have some awkward mental health crisis stage we go through just before going Fuck it, I'm trans. Never mind Ellen's "Yep, I'm Gay" cover of the Advocate, I think "Fuck it, I'm trans" is a much better I statement to make. Especially if you already know you have a history of straightish girls falling for me. I mean bisexuals with a preference for dudely dudes.

My mom used to never understand why I continually dated bisexual girls, but really it was because I needed to be with someone who would stick around after I went through hormone treatments. Which is such an obvious "This person is clearly trans" statement to make.