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.