I’m going to church tomorrow, but I’m not particularly Christian. I thought I was Buddhist, but I really only like Buddhism in a philosophical sense. I’m actually really religionless. I used to have hopes when I was a teen that I would find a good religion. I tried Wicca, briefly, that was kind of interesting, but I don’t think I understood the whole principles behind it. At this point in my life, I believe in a deity or multiple deities, but I don’t follow any particular religion. I’ve looked up Judaism, I’ve looked into Islam, but neither of those interested me.

I kind of don’t think there IS a religion I feel particularly embraced by. At this point I’m making it up as I go along. Gnostic Christianity fascinates me. But I can find beauty in nearly every religion. I find sex to be intensely spiritual, but that’s hard to parlay into a religion.

I really do think sex is sacred. At this point in my life I’ve been with enough people to see that it is a sacred act, which is why one night stands are so terrible. I mean the sex is terrible! There’s a certain spark that just isn’t there in those occassions.

I’ve sworn off one night stands.

Anyway, there’s my semi-Easter sermon on faith. Which is really, I have some, but nothing in particular, and I’m sure a lot of people are with me on that one. I think there should be an anarchist religion that just embraces a higher power, without having to do anything.

I’ve signed up for a series of meditation workshops with the amazing medium Barb Powell. It’s 15 bucks a session, which is pretty decent, and we get tapes and homework. Meditation is good, whether you are spiritual or not, and I think especially for bipolar people. It’s a great stabilizing force. I far prefer meditation over prayer, it opens the creative portals and helps one grasp esoteric concepts of spirituality. Anyway, I’m going on Monday, so I will report on how it goes.

E is probably my favorite drug, and I haven’t used it in about, like, eight or nine years. I haven’t done it that often, it takes too much out of me, but last night I did it and it was fun.

I didn’t get SUPER ripped like I got in Vancouver, but it was still a nice chatty happy touchy feely high. Most pleasurable. I haven’t slept at all, but I feel fine. I thought I would have crashed by now, but no, so I’m just going to try and stay up all day and go to bed tonight like normal. I hate getting my circadian rhythm out of wack.

I suppose you’ll be wondering now, what about the bipolar!!!! Well, don’t worry, I’m feeling fine and I’m sure one night of fun isn’t going to send me into a manic episode. I do take my drugs faithfully. I mean, psych drugs. The only annoying side effect from the e is that I’ve been grinding my teeth, but aside from a sore jaw that’s not going to adversely impact my health.

E is the only chemical drug I’ll do, because I have prior experience with it and have seen lots of friends safely do it, plus it’s not addictive for me. It may be for others. Meth is something I will never touch again, at least not on it’s own, there’s some people who say meth is in e. But straight on meth, NO WAY. I did it when I was too young and stupid to know better, and lucky for me, my best friend bailed out on ever doing meth again and then because she wasn’t doing it, I never did it again. I can see why it has such appeal though. It’s like a mini manic episode.

Deanna has the dreaded post psychosis blahs. I just reread all my blog and am amazed at how far I have come. Some of the earlier posts were still crazy, but believe it or not that was after I was judged sane enough to leave. Not sane, but sane enough, go fix this at home now.

Anyway, it’s been a long recovery process, but it was safe for me, and good, and I’m glad I took all that time to heal.

Anyway, this January marked the third year I’ve been living back in Saskatoon. It was kind of a culture shock moving back here, to be honest, and then it was hard making friends. I’m amazed at how hard it is to make friends in this town.

But I’ve been thinking about all the things that have happened since I moved back here, and you know what, it’s all good. I’m now closer with my cousins, in particular that sweet D. Mae. I got to kiss my true love a bunch of times. I’ve had employment, not the job I moved here for, but enough to get by. Now I have a grant. I have a dog and cat. And I think in many ways moving back here has really let me grow up. I’m way more independent than I ever was, I have a good set of ethics and try to make things right, I’ve finally got a real psychiatrist listening to my complaints and tweaking the cocktail that keeps me level and happy, I’ve got a good mental health nurse. And maybe most important is that my whole family lives in Saskatoon, and it’s been really good to come back as an adult and have them in my life this way. I mean, I was never able to see my sister Sky while I lived in Vancouver, and now I see her once a week. And she can’t talk on the phone because she’s mentally handicapped. So I’m happy to be closer to my sister maybe the most.

And something which I also really like about Saskatoon is this sense of community I have here, all my friends know each other in some way or another, and the queers really are integrated into regular life, at least from what I’ve noticed. It’s a close knit community, whereas Vancouver often made me feel small, and if someone left my life I wouldn’t ever just run into them on the street or anything. People disappeared. Here I’m feeling loved and supported, and that is good.

So wanting to leave Saskatoon has gone away. I love Saskatoon, it’s my original hometown and there’s just something sweet about the place. Plus the river is gorgeous. It’s nice to live someplace I know inside and out like the back of my hand.

I think the reason I wanted to leave Saskatoon was because I was having a hard time meeting people and making friends. I don’t want a huge lot of friends, I think you really only need a handfull of close close friends. And my best friend from Victoria just moved back this last week, so that’s one more friend for me. Anyway, I do have friends now, some just the ones I see around, some I’ve spent considerable time with. My best friend these days I would have to say is Deanna Mae. Robin’s my best friend but she lives far away, ditto Margaret, ditto Stef, so I think Deanna gets to hold the best friend title because she lives closer and talks to me most. And I’ve really liked coming back here and getting to know her, and I’m glad I’ll be able to hold her hand when she’s dealing with bipolar issues.

I didn’t realize this e trip would leave me so verbose.

I’m happy that finally at the age of thirty I am living exactly where I want to live doing exactly what I want to do. Maybe my thirties will bring some stability into my life. Or maybe I will bring stability into my thirties.

I’m not thirty yet, I’m jumping the gun. My birthday’s April 26th. We’re having a small party with my friends with hottubbing and barbecue. Maybe we’ll go to Diva’s after.

I’m finding as I get older and older I value good conversation more and more. It’s really hard to find you know! Maybe THAT’S really why I miss my ex, she gave GOOD conversation.

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.

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!

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,

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.

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!

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

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.

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.