Someone once told me I think too much. I do think a lot. Maybe that’s why I like pot, because I don’t think quite so much when I am stoned. I do think, but it doesn’t hop all over the place like other times. I am sure I have multiple brain related disabilities going on and not simply bipolar disorder I. I’m fairly certain I have a touch of OCD, and I think I have some kind of Attention Deficit thing going on, and then there was my history of ocular migraines that made me blind. My doctor explained why I had that seizure when I was in Grade Two after I hit my funny bone on the table while reading The Far Side. It’s just a response to intense pain. So I guess I’m not epileptic after all.

I like the Far Side.

Once my friend Annthea went to a talk/dinner with Jane Goodall. I asked if she took a picture of the famous pony tail. She didn’t. I have a mild obsession with Jane Goodall’s ponytail.

I am missing my cousins who are in BC!!! COUSHUNS! They are fun to hang out with and now they are away!

I have to get this blog into some kind of shape. It’s like a collection of out of shape thoughts, most of them about addiction, but not honest enough to be a real diary of addiction. Go gritty or go home!

“So today I went out to the garage again because I’m not allowed to smoke inside or on the property and the neighbors from across the way stared at me.”

And if I was seeing a drug counsellor she would say “And how did that make you feel?”

But it doesn’t make me feel like much, except sometimes I wish I had my own place and could smoke weed in the living room.

With the curtains closed.

I’m not sure what will happen to me. I hope I don’t end up destitute in a group home! That would suck.

There was this old woman who moved into the group home I was in from Hantleman and her husband said he just couldn’t do it anymore. And one day it was her birthday and she got a cake and she made a wish to go back home. And I thought “Oh dear God, I do not want my old age to be spent like this!”

So sucky. And then the one who kept seeing Indians and Cows in the backyard.

She was cheerful, just out of it.

But who knows really, I mean, maybe someday it will be proven that crazy people are just accessing some kind of extrasensory perceptions and seeing into different realities and dimensions or something.

In which case I should really take more notes when I go crazy so that they may be written down in a book for all to read one day, when I am a properly revered bipolar prophet. There was that time I believed Louis Riel was a descendant of Jesus Christ. And then, well, but I also believed I was getting mugged by the Dalai Lama, so I was pretty confused. And then my poor special lady I had so many crazy beliefs about her. I believed she was abducted by aliens! And I also believed in Twoonie Tuesday supporting David Suzuki.

I still want to get a bunch of NDN’s eating KFC in a parking lot. At Cranberry Flats. I don’t know why.

I want something to happen with at least one of my crushes. Sigh!