Goddamn Presidents!

I had the most bizarre dream last night.

It started out that I was in Grade Twelve, AGAIN! I was at an assembly where Stephen Harper and George Bush were speaking. I had a glass of orange juice and I forgot it on the podium, and Stephen Harper drank it while he was talking. Everyone saw me go up and get my little glass back, then I washed it and got grape juice, but this time George W. Bush drank it! As I was leaving the assembly with my empty glass I yelled “Goddamn Presidents!” and the whole school cracked up.

I was talking about it with some friends in the lunch room when the principal came over and said I wasn’t allowed to talk about politics or be political in school.

Later Eminem came to the school because he was in town touring and he had to go to class. Somehow we struck up a conversation and I found out he was trans. Later he invited me to party in his hotel room and we took mushrooms and ecstacy. He was actually really nice and not all tough at all. He was surrounded by gangsta types and groupies, and I kept flirting with him and trying to get him into bed, but he went off with one of the groupies. Then I left but I forgot my shoes there.

The next day I came across a trans friend of mine who was also going to class (which is even MORE ridiculous because she’s over fifty) and in class we heard the teacher talk about how awful her video was and what was wrong with it and then he was going to screen it so we would all know how bad it was. And as it started she and a lot of our friends and I just walked out.

And then I told her about Eminem being trans and she got all happy, “A trans superstar!”

I woke up wondering if Eminem really was trans, but then I remembered he had a kid. Still it was an interesting dream.

But why do I keep dreaming about Eminem?

Medical Marijuana and my Mood Disorders

I use marijuana on a frequent basis. Right now I’m broke, so I have none, which kind of sucks because I’m coming out of a mixed episode. I’ve been smoking for the past nine years. I’ve been bipolar for the last twenty-one years. Before I started smoking, life REALLY sucked ass. I had way more volatile episodes, involving violence (mostly towards inanimate objects), rages, suicide attempts, and so forth. The first time I smoked pot I saw a Pink Floyd and The Doors laser light show. Mostly, I kept smoking because it was so goddamned fun.

As time has passed I’ve learned when I’m using it mostly to alleviate symptoms of my bipolar. As a natural mood stabilizer, it is remarkably effective. During depressive episodes it lightens my mood and eases mental pain. During bouts of insomnia it helps me get to sleep. In a hypomanic or manic state, it brings me down to a more even keel and calms and relaxes me. It has far less side effects than most of the psychoactive pharmaceuticals I’m on. It stops racing thoughts. It basically works on nearly every symptom I can have.

Medical Marijuana is a contentious issue, even for people seeking prescriptions and exemptions for conditions like HIV, glaucoma, chronic pain, etc. But if you’re bipolar, woah, people REALLY have issues with marijuana and mental health conditions. This stems from the myth that pot makes people crazy. Pot doesn’t make me crazy, PEOPLE make me crazy. The Israeli government has recently approved giving medical marijuana to soldiers suffering PTSD, another mental health issue.

The Canadian Mental Health Association’s official position on marijuana is that no one with psychiatric disabilities should EVER get near marijuana. However off the record a number of psychiatrists and psychotherapists will admit to their patients that marijuana is fairly effective in treating bipolar disorder. Some will write prescriptions. A number of bipolar people have come forward about their experiences in using marijuana, whether it’s legally prescribed or illegally purchased from street dealers.

Ideally, I do not want to buy off dealers, and I don’t want to buy Government approved marijuana because it’s dreadfully weak in THC (the active ingredient which helps people) and is tainted with lead and arsenic, FAR more dangerous than street drugs. What I would like to be able to do is to grow my own, just for me, one wee plant at a time. I’d like medical and legal support to be able to supply myself with my own organic hydroponic weed. I mean, for god’s sakes, IT’S A FRIGGIN PLANT!!!

Someday, in this next generation, people are going to look back at us and say “damn dudes, you were all backasswards.” We’re going to seem as dumb as alcohol prohibition.

Anyway, if anyone has weed to give me while I’m broke, let me know.

Mohawk Ironworkers and the World Trade Center

Once when I was more of a bolshi Indian Activist (I was about 11), I mentioned to a white schoolmate that I was sick and tired of us all being sent to rural reserves and wondered why we couldn’t have a city of our own. She retorted that we could have a city if we built it. Later when I told my Mum she said “Oh good, we can have New York.”

The fact is, Mohawk people are renowned ironworkers, and were involved in the construction of The Sears Tower, The Chysler Building, The George Washington Bridge, The Empire State Building, and most notoriously, the World Trade Center, among a multitude of other New York buildings. Their aptitute for being ironworkers was evidenced during the building of a bridge on Kahnawake in 1886, when construction crews noticed children and adults alike trotting along foundation beams. Currently a quarter of the male population in Kahnawake are ironworkers who commute to New York.

When the World Trade Centers collapsed, Mohawks working on other buildings in Manhattan went to Ground Zero and were part of the clean up crew, often doing the most dangerous jobs. Many of them were descendants of the ironworkers who had built the towers. And a lot of them were also active participants in OKA during 1990. Cleaning up involved seeing a lot of disturbing things like human remains, which haunt some of the workers even now. The destruction of the Towers affected Quebecois Mohawks just as much as Americans. Some ironworkers had completed their entire apprenticeship working on the Towers. To this day, Mohawks are heavily involved in ceremonies and memorials for the World Trade Center. As in Aboriginal tradition, many are also pushing for a spiritual cleansing of this site. We Aboriginals believe that souls of the departed require ceremonies and guidance in crossing over to the other side, to avoid being trapped on this earthly plane.

This september 11, when people start their memorials and mournings, take a moment to remember the courage of the Mohawks in both building and cleaning up the World Trade Center. More people need to remember that Aboriginal peoples have shaped North America throughout history, even creating these skyscrapers which people regard as a modern testament to civilization.

Rewrites

Today I started on my fourth rewrite. Before it was mostly changing bits and pieces, but this is a complete overhaul of the plot, involving a lot more tension and more focus on the main theme, as well as fleshing out roles for specific actors I want to cast. I wrote 18 pages, and I think I’ll be able to keep going at this pace for a week and then it will be done. After that, I’m going to have to get an outside opinion, some readings, and possibly tweaking it to make it more feasible within a low budget.

I’ve finally got an idea of who I want to play the main character, and THAT is really exciting because I’ve seen her work and she would be perfect in this role. I have a wish list for other characters as well. It’s good to finally be able to imagine what they will look like when they’re performing these roles.

I think this draft will be a lot heavier and darker, but the pace is also a lot better, and I think it will do a way better job of making it’s point.

Mostly, it’s just exciting. I want to make something so beautiful it will change the world. That’s why I started making films in the first place.

The Hottest Biracial Bitches

“What are you” -White Queen
“Red?” -Red Queen
“White?” -White Queen.
“Pink.” -Alice.
“PINK!” -White Queen
“Pink is hardly a color.” -Red Queen
“It’s a pastel.” -White Queen
Thirza Cuthand’s Through The Looking Glass

I was surfing around looking for online writings by and about the biracial experience when I came across biracial.com. Wow, I thought, a whole website devoted to biracial people!!! Well, I click on it and it’s got total pussy shots and a huge headline proclaiming it to feature “the hottest exclusive biracial bitches on the net.” Who knew? And why isn’t my face on there?

Really though, I’ve been thinking a lot about the parallels between bisexuals and biracial/multiracial people. Although I’m not bisexual (I’ve tried and it always ends up being dumb), my primary romantic attachments have consistently been bisexual women. For a while I thought it was because I consider myself to be a blend of male and female genders, and that I wanted the possibility of transistioning to male without losing the love of my partner. But recently I’ve begun to think that it is also because I’m biracial. Being someone who straddles the boundaries of race, I find people who do not fit into neat little boxes incredibly sexy.

I also understand the pressure from society to pick a goddamn side and stick to it. No willy nillying around with something as sacred and clear cut as race. White folks think because I ended up with light whitey skin that it erases my ethnic identity and that I should just live as a white person, even though I have very defined aboriginal facial features and grew up within the Aboriginal community. Aboriginals accept me with a certain tinge of animosity, sometimes they think I’m white, sometimes they hate me because I have white privillege due to my skin (nevermind that racism hurts me just as much), sometimes they just want me to deny my Scots/Irish blood altogether. I have trouble filling in forms which want me to choose one race only. Biracial and Multiracial people are emerging as one of the most important aspects to dismantaling the barriers of race, yet so many are closeted, ashamed, and rejected by both or all of their cultures, and critical writings on the biracial/multiracial experience are sorely lacking.

Not only that, but people have the nerve to ask me “but which race are you more?” People assume because I’m so light that I would naturally be mostly white, but ironically I’m nearly three quarters Aboriginal. That all being said, chopping myself up into percentages and measuring out my race is kind of a sick and twisted way of thinking. Kind of like the stupid question people ask bisexuals “but which gender do you like better? Are you more homosexual or heterosexual?”

Another thing I’ve noticed in the Stupid Things People Ask category is the classic “Which of your parents is white/aboriginal?” This is fucked in a few ways. One, it assumes that interracial relationships is a relatively new phenomenon, when it’s been going on for thousands of years. Another is that I’m a third generation biracial person, maybe even fourth generation. My ancestors are Scots, Irish, Cree, Red River Metis (which means I’m partially French as well), and Saulteaux. I have as much affinity for traditional drumming and fancy dance as I do for bagpipes and Irish step dancing.

There is something really revolutionary about people stepping forward and creating communities and dialogue about being on the borders, whether it’s bisexuality, mixed race, or being both male and female. My dream is to see a day when all of these different groups band together and tell the world to knock off this divisive shit.

Producer wanted!!! Fame! Fortune! Edjimacation!

Okay, I’m going to do my regular blather a bit after this call for applicants. Right now I need to sound professional.

************************************************
Up and Coming Producer Wanted

Hello, I am an established internationally recognized short
filmmaker moving into feature film writing/directing. I have
written the third draft of a screenplay and am in the process
of applying for cash and mentorship. If my application is
successful there is also mentorship available from Industry
professionals for a first time producer. I have considered
being the producer as well, but I’ve decided that’s too much
to put on my plate at this time and I would be better served
concentrating on my creative growth.

If you would like to move into film producing, this could be
your break. You must be a Canadian citizen, able to get a
letter of reference from someone established in the industry,
and have knowledge of Queer/Native/Mental Health/Poverty
issues. You may have produced one feature already, but no
more than that.

Ideally you are someone who is familiar with the work of
Christine Vachon (bonus points if you’ve read Shooting To
Kill). You have good money, time, and people managing
skills. You’ve had experience with film and/or video
production and post. You will be willing to temporarily
relocate to Toronto and work on location in Vancouver. You
understand Independent filmmaking and the duties involved
in being a producer. Brown people, women, Queers, and
people with disabilities encouraged to apply.

Briefly, the film is a love story about an interracial lesbian/
bisexual couple whose love is tested by a psychotic
episode and hospitalization. It’s partly a black comedy,
partly a drama, and mostly a comment on the inhumane
treatment of the mentally ill. Creative control remains with
the director as per previous funding requirements.

If this application for funding/mentorship is not successful,
the producer position may still be available in the future
when funding is secured. Additional guidelines will be
emailed to promising applicants. Please submit your
resume and a letter explaining your previous film related
experience, why you want to produce, what qualities you
embody that would make you a good producer, and what
you have to offer to the project. A copy of the script will be
sent to the selected party. Deadline for applying for this
position is September 25, 2006. The deadline for the full
application for funding is October 20th.
Email me at fanggrrl@excite.com (I have a regular email address I use since the spammers found this one, so don’t be surprised when I respond from a different addy).

*************************************************************

I was instructed to make dinner tonight. Niblets, potatoes, and smokies. Simple enough right? I mean, really it’s just boiling THREE things. Well, I burned the potatoes to shit. They were disgusting. So I put on some perogies. They were taking a really long time to come to the top until Mum pointed out they were stuck to the bottom. By the time we rescued them their innards had burst out of their wrappings and they had turned into a gelatinous goo. What the hell is wrong with me? How can I fuck up boiling THREE things?

I had PMS crabbies today, and it made me feel very uncomfortable, thank god I started bleeding.

Yesterday I had the best talk with my favorite person in the whole world. I feel really lucky to have her in my life. She’s amazing in a bazillion different ways and I could go on and on about how lovely she is, but I’ll get all shy and awkward. I don’t really know how you can get shy on a blog, come to think of it.

HEY! I am trying to track down some people from film school, Miriam Needoba, who I’m pretty sure I have found, and Jessica Rose who is somewhere in Toronto. If you know the wherabouts of these persons, tell them to reach out and touch me.

Okay, this is sophmoric, but also pretty fuckin’ funny. From Rotten.com the masterpiece that is “Doughboy Shits A Croissant.”

BLACK MOLD! ORNERY LESBIANS! BREE VAN DE KAMP GETTING IT UP THE BUTT!

My Cuz Deanna is back from Regina already, having discovered that their new house is infested with black mold. Among other things, black mold can cause bleeding lungs, asthma, chronic fatigue, depression, dementia, abnormal pap smears, cancer, choking, lower immunity, and even death. The slumlord who rented them the place refuses to give them their money back, and I doubt he’ll do anything about the mold because it would mean admitting his property isn’t fit for human habitation. Fucking asshole. Hopefully the Rentalsman will deal with him. Jerky jerky jerkface.

Some “petit but ornery” lesbians attacked a sexually harrassing dyke basher and beat the fucking shit out of him and then stabbed him with a steak knife. He’s now in critical condition in a hospital, and the “ornery” lesbians are being charged with gang assault. Personally, I wish I had seen it. It’s like a scene out of Hothead Paisan. Sometimes I think so much has happened to me in my life that anyone trying to fuck with me should pray I won’t really flip out and kill or maim them. I heard about this great self defense technique for women. Keeping your fingers straight without making a fist, and then folding them at your last knuckle (the one nearest your palm), punch the attacker as hard as you can in the throat. It can cause major damage and give you time to run away.

AW FUCK! Youtube had a clip of Bree Van De Kamp having some hot steamy sex from their upcoming season and it was pulled by Disney and I fuckin’ MISSED IT!!!! Was it anal!? Oh my god, I feel so deprived.

Brit Comedies, it may be Colonization but it sure is fuckin’ funny!

Okay, this is the funniest thing I have seen today. Do you remember that totally crap video by Shakespeare’s Sisters called Stay? If you don’t, check it out first. I warn you, it’s total crap, but if you haven’t seen it you won’t get the next video.

Okay, this is French and Saunder’s parody of the same video, and it is so fuckin’ GENIUS!!! I love French and Saunders, they totally kick ass.

I love British Comedies, I think they have influenced my sense of humour so much. Are You Being Served, Mr. Bean, Keeping Up Appearances, Absolutely Fabulous, French and Saunders, and Red Dwarf. Oh man, so many good times.

Okay, veering off the funny angle I found this incredible article linked off of Live Journal For Choice. It’s called The Only Moral Abortion Is My Abortion and it’s about anti-abortion activists who go into the clinics they picket and get an abortion. Here’s a choice quote: “A few behave in a very hostile manner, such as calling clinic staff “murderers.” Years ago, a clinic counselor in British Columbia told me that one of her patients went into the procedure room apparently fine with her decision to have an abortion. During the abortion, at a stage when it was too late to stop the procedure, the woman started screaming “You murderers!” and other invectives at everyone in the room.”

Okay, this is just fucked. The Jewish Memorial in Berlin was going to be covered with a certain kind of chemical that would resist graffiti, things were going along tickety boo until someone pointed out that the company making the graffiti resistant chemical was the same company that manufactured Zyklon B during the Holocaust.

Well, I tried to find some more funny shit, but damn, internet pickin’s are slim. I shall have to do more surfing. BTW, if anyone finds a clip of Jennifer Saunders and Dawn French as performance artists, let me know where it is, as it is my all time favorite French and Saunders skit!

I remember I remember when I lost my mind

Last night was VERY bizarre, filled with racing thoughts, some nice, some sad, some infuriating. I wanted to call up an ex and call her a stupid moonyas for something she said like, two years ago. I started trying to piece the stories of my life together. I was thinking about something seriously fucked up that happened to me eight years ago, and how I only ever told six people about it. I sat up several times to pet Schrodinger and Mister, who were being adorable. Schrodinger has turned into the sweetest kitty cat ever, with a nice deep rumbly purr. They are very good at calming me down. I think I need to adjust my meds, which means another trip to the doc. Oh well.

My favorite cousin, Deanna, is leaving!!! She’s moving to Regina today to start classes at the U of R. I will miss her, but I know it’s a better program than the pitiful excuse for an art department at the U of S. She is a wicked fly lady, I hope she kicks ass out there.

Anyway, I didn’t get a lick of sleep last night, it was very frustrating. I know I’ll have a short nap at some point today, but I’m still going to feel like crud, with eyes falling out of my head. Now I’m drinking milk, because for some reason it totally rocks when you’re having mental health issues. I think it does something for your brain, and it calms ya down. I remember in the psych ward they were always giving us milk, and I was like “I am not a child!” But it turns out that there is a reason for it.

One day my cuz and I were listening to the radio and Gnarls Barkley’s “Crazy” came on and we both cracked up.

I’m not suicidal or depressed, per se, but I think I may be going hypomanic. Cruddy. It’s good that I’m recognizing it, and I also think I know why. My day time meds were moved to The Med Cupboard without me knowing and I didn’t take them for a week because I couldn’t find them. Also I find I have to put my day time meds in a place where I go every morning and see them, such as beside the computer. I will have to move them back here, or I’ll just keep forgetting and fucking myself over. And my daytime meds are the mood stabilizers, and the night time ones are mostly for depression. So yeah, a week without mood stabilizers will do this. Yesterday I was like, ULTRA mega bitch to my mom, and the worst part was that I knew it too and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t yell or scream at her, I just kept sassing her and not doing what she wanted me to do and being generally unhelpful. Jeez, I wanted to kick my own ass. I haven’t been hypomanic in a long time.

I think I need marijuana. Pot totally kicks ass for bipolar, unless you get something that’s laced. But it’s great, makes you feel happier when you’re depressed, makes you calmer when you’re getting manic. There are some people who are trying to push for medical marijuana to be made available to bipolar people, but there’s a lot of resistance towards giving a mind altering substance to the mentally ill. Never mind that all the prescription drugs we’re on are also highly mind altering, they have the stamp of 20th Century pharmaceutical approval, whereas marijuana has only been used medically for thousands of years.

I did Shrooms the other night. Some might think this is why I’m hypomanic, but I think it’s been starting for a few days. But what was really cool on Shrooms was that whenever I thought I was about to have a bad trip I’d say to myself “wait a minute, I’m on DRUGS! This isn’t real!” and then I would start giggling. I think that kind of mentality is also applicable to bipolar mood swings. I’m not cranky and messed up, it’s a byproduct of chemical malfunctions. The trick to surviving manic and depressive episodes is to try to view it as objectively as possible. That’s kinda hard, but it really does help. A diabetic with high blood sugar wouldn’t feel like a fuck up failure, so why should I?

God, I’m glad I quit that suck ass artist run centre job, I couldn’t stand being told I was a fuck up unreliable failure for having a bipolar episode and missing three and a half days of work. That and listening to some dude tell me racist shit about Native people and assuming because I’m a lesbian all I’m interested in is sex. Dude, I’m not completely about sex, I’m about the Revolution!!! Personally, I think artist run centres are the most dysfunctional work environments. So many of my friends have gotten fucked over and burnt out working in those places. I’m not sure why that is. Even call centres are healthier work environments, and that’s saying something!! Besides that, I was the first woman to ever have that position, AND the only Native employee, AND everyone who gets that job is hated by the Saskatoon video community. I think people also saw me as some kind of outside interloper, even though I grew up in Saskatoon. Either way, it was wreaking havoc on my mental health, and being shamed for my disability by my boss was some fucked up shit yo.

I have some stuff I want to post here in the next while, but not this post, cause it’s totally irrelevant.

I think I need a totally fun, silly, smart, kick ass girlfriend with a good sense of humour who won’t go all wangy when I have episodes. “Aaaaaah! My girlfriend is CRAZY!!! I’m dumping her ass right now, I don’t care if she’s in the hospital, she pisses me off!” Yeah, I definitely don’t need a sweetie like that.

You know, the strangest thing about stigma towards the mentally ill is that most people will experience a mental health crisis at some point in their life. It could be Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Depression, Anxiety, Agorophobia, Post Partum Depression, or Dementia. EVERYONE is at risk for that shit, and those are some pretty tricky issues to get through. So sometimes when people treat me like shit because I’m crazy, I just smile to myself, because one day they’ll step through the looking glass and be as fucking looney bird as me.

I want it all!

I’ve decided I want a Vespa. This Vespa. I still don’t have a license, and I know I’d have to get a motorcyclist license too, but damn it looks so fuckin’ SEXY!!! I tried to go win this exact model the other day but you had to have a special C95 letter saying you could have one of the 95 keys for the key off. Sad me. I will have to get Vespa wealthy by honest means.

I’m also cursing being in Saskatoon at the moment because I’m desperately seeking the self-titled album by HK119 ever since I heard “Friend for Dinner” on the One Little Indian podcast. PLUS come on, how can you not want to own a cd by a woman who looks like THIS:

But by far the SEXIEST fuckin’ thing I want is THIS:

It’s not just a PowerMate USB Volume Control, you can also assign it to work as your Jog Shuttle controller for video editing. Coming from an analog background, I have dearly missed Jog – Shuttle controllers. There’s just something so satisfying about being able to move images forward with a turn of the wrist. Mmm, Jog Shuttle. Lovely stuff that is. It’s only $44 bucks, so I can probably afford it.