Creativity!!! Fun!

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

Juniper, a fuzzy glimmer in ma eye!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Owieya!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fruit Flies

An update on the Fruit Fly Crisis of Oh Nine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And I will get supplies for those traps tomorrow!

No Privacy since I was Twenty-One

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

It's SATURDAY!

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

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

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

I am the Narwal, Coo coo ka choo!

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

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

Morning Internetland

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

Appropriation Related Death

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

I think the Anti-deps kicked in this morning

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

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

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

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

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

The Sufferin' Dufferin

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Purple

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The smell is mostly gone

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

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

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

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

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

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

Minor Mood Fluctuation

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

I am going to clean my apartment.

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

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

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

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



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

A blog as Suggested by Friends

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


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

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

Next topic: DRUGS!!!

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

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

Hide Under the Awkward Stairs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like a little Rumplestiltzkin kicking my own way into hell.

Such is the drama of a butch with bipolar.

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

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

Posters of the Missing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Schrodinger!!! :(

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

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

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

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

Internetted and Recovering

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

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

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

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

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

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