I’m really tired.  I have been waking up early and getting to bed early for a while, and it’s already 9:25pm as I write this.  Mom is watching Survivor, the season finale.  I am writing a blog.

I have calmed down about the whole radioactive world thing.  I am resigned to my fate, and to living my life as fully as I can.  I should.  There is no other solution I can bring to the table.  Just be the best Thirza I can be and continue to live my life.  And surviving.

I really do have feelings for someone.  And I am not sure how to proceed.  I have a feeling they are not mutual, but at the same time I feel compelled to tell her how I feel in the event that there is a possible future for us.  I mean, keeping feelings all locked up inside is pretty bad, especially if there is a slim chance for love to blossom.  And we have been having some pretty intense conversations about our lives, just finding out things about each other and I really like being supportive of her.  I still really value our friendship, and I don’t want to be pushed away if I tell her how I feel and she doesn’t feel the same.  I don’t feel that a friendship with her and nothing more is a bad thing, because I really like her and value our time together, even though it is mostly talking on facebook chat.  And there is a chance we will be living in the same city in the not too distant future.  She’s been talking about it.  I’ve been talking about it.  Who knows?

Anyway, I think I need to tell her when I see her how I feel, tell her in person.  Just because it would mean more.  I am aware I might cry in front of her or something, but it’s something I have to do.  It goes with my renewed commitment to live my life more fully!  No more being shy when it comes to love.  I have to seize the day!  Maybe a totally beautiful healthy happy relationship would come of it.  And if it doesn’t, that is okay, at least she will know where I stand.  She told me she wants to move for love.  But she didn’t say with me, but still, that is different than what she was talking about last summer.  So . . . well anyway, I guess I should switch topics to something else.  I don’t really like talking about feelings the other party isn’t fully cognizant of on my blog.  I talked about Rheanne because she knew I loved her.  But not anymore.  I have finally moved on.

It feels really good to have moved on.  I feel like my heart is finally capable of fully loving someone new.  Before I still kind of kept one foot in the past.  I wasn’t able to give all of myself to someone else.  And Rheanne never really cared that I loved her, she always treated me like I was just some schlub.  Some loser.  Someone who didn’t deserve her.  Now I feel like she didn’t deserve me.

I still don’t know who my wife will be.  I hope I get one someday.  My psychic says I will.

Sometimes I look at the past and all the people who have come and gone from my life, and it starts making sense.  Perfect sense, even though sometimes it is all so random and bizarre.  Like destiny.  My psychic says I have a really good life path.  I think so too.

In August I will find out if I got my grant.  This is the third year in a row I am waiting to hear about a grant.  I hope I get it.  I really want to make my film (on video!) Bunnyhug.  I need to commission a baker miller pink bunnyhug straightjacket from a costume designer.  I think I might use that as my poster too, Ellie in the straightjacket.  Although they mostly use four point restraints now, I don’t even know anywhere that uses a straightjacket.

********************** The Next Day*****************

Well I had a good sleep.  Was the first one up, Mom slept in.  I went to go flip my laundry and my clothes were totally dry, which fooled me at first and I was like “Wow, my laundry dried without going in the the dryer!”  And then I was like “Waitaminit!  This washer didn’t even turn on!”  So I finally got it going.  I am aware this is a boring story.

It will be 17 weeks without Marijuana on Wednesday at noon! 😀  That’s a long time!  The longest I’ve ever gone!  It’s now 117 days without it, not even one puff!  I feel so accomplished, finally that monkey is off my damn back.  I don’t even think about it unless I am around it, and then I get cravings but I remember how miserable I would feel when I smoked up at the end.  I’d get so depressed and think of dark things and go dark places in my mind.  And I would get stoned and then get on the internet and look for sites about quitting.  Plus I stunk all the time, like weed.  Or a skunk.  And people could tell I was a pot head!  And when I had conversations on the phone I would space out and drift off and generally just flake out.  And it frustrated some of my friends.  Which I feel badly about.

I quit smoking this morning, at about 11.  I had my last smoke and slapped on a patch and now I am sucking a lozenge and promising myself not to pick up even one cigarette, not to have even one puff.  It’s over!  I am done!  I want to get a month of no smoking under my belt before I go to Germany.  And continue not smoking!  Especially because I only like Canadian cigarettes and would be really desperate to buy European ones!  So that is what I am doing.  I am tired of writing about quitting all the time, but I kind of have to write about it.  Just because it helps reinforce my attempts.

Last time what really helped was reading stories about quitting on About.com’s smoking cessation section.  They inspired me.

I’m behind on my work for my grant.  I need to write a script.  I am mostly goofing off right now, so I should really just get to it and start writing.  I have a bit of free time anyway.  So I oughta work on it.  I wrote a really eloquent thing about why I wanted to make it, including snippets of queer theory.  So I should revisit that.  I am trying to decide if sitting barechested on a horse is too over the top or not.  Except I wanted to talk about masculine identified female bodied persons in plains culture, and a lot of them went hunting and so on and rode horses while dressed in masculine attire, including being topless.  So it would make sense to have a tit shot of me on a horse.  I dunno, I must consider this carefully!  It would mostly be for queer festivals, so it’s not like a lot of heterosexual men looky-loos would see it.

Anyway, maybe I should go work on that instead of writing here.  It would be a good idea anyway!