Out with the Old

Out with the Old
Originally uploaded by Unbridled Expression (tm).

Yippie!!

Oh such words to live by!

2006 was such a crappy year for so many of us - going down as "one of the worst years on record", but the good news is that I'm up and slowly begining to run again, and for the first days of 2007, I intend to have my football helmet on - ready to take the next 365 days head on!!

All the best!
ox

stroll down memory lane via bell telephone

That was fun - lots of fun.
Just spent the last 4 hours on the phone with a dear old friend of mine from high school.

And we laughed and laughed

and talked about all kinds of crazy things, tried to assemble the pieces of adolescent pubescent angst from the wisdom that we had gathered through age and wisdom

it was like a summer had gone by - each went to our own summer vacation, and were back again catching up.

I think that is the mark of a true friendship - you never miss a beat and start up again where you left off.

thnx T

You made me happy to remember those times - and we had many many good ones.

I could have made a lot of money on this bet...

I'm killing myself over this thing.

If I had bet my best girlfriend money over the fact that I knew her man would propose to her this time last year, I would have been a very rich woman right now.


Remember that dream I had - about the hijab?

Well, he proposed to her tonight.

i guess I will have to wear a hijab when we marry

the notorious batchelor dropped to his knees tonight and I freaked out


those were her words


I flipped!!

And I called it - this month last year! I have to find it cause I think I actually documented it in my blog.

It always happens this way - i can run around predicting other people's lives and how shit is going to pan out, but when it comes to me and my life? I'm as lost as a toddler in Disney World.


has anybody seen my future???!!!


Lucky bitch
but I love her still

when taken for a long time or in large doses, but it may cause politics

good advice from spammers:
when taken for a long time or in large doses, but it may cause politics


be hungry.
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CONDITIONS WILL REMAIN POOR THROUGH THE EVENING.
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Look nice

your man as a muslim cleric...

this was one for the record dream books.

a letter to a friend before i run off for some xmas tryptophan and eggnog...

A,
I just had the most fucken bizarre dream.
This is one of those I had to write down...

We were out somewhere - summer night, you, me Hali and some other girl, walking up some streets near your place. There was this girl on the side of the street, lying in those little patches of grass in front of a house. She was moaning and was pregnant. There was a car nearby (our car?) and we rushed over. Turns out she was in labour and was having the baby.

You called to me and Hali to get the 'supplies" out of the car. We dashed over with gigantic pads the size of a body builder's arms and some blankets. You stood there , hunched over her with a baby hanging upside down by it's legs - "already done! That was easy!" took it, wrapped it in a depends and off we went to the hospital. I gave the woman a depends, she gushed blood, felt faint but we managed to put her in the car..

flash forward to some sort of funky loft/lounge where everything looked like a dark and brooding ikea. Kelly green walls and white mouldings with minimal recessed ceiling lights. Everybody was young - 18-22. We walked in like we owned the place and spoke of things 80's. I gave some advice - "if you like coldplay, you gotta listen to Heaven 17. Japan with David sylvian was also cool". These people (and some really hot young boys) hung on our every word. They vigilantly took notes and hummed and hawed in deep interest. Some music was put on and we showed them how to dance. We were the belles of the ball.

We left in some sort of convertible (in and through the house) and everybody waved and talked among themselves about how cool we were.

Flash forward to your place - 2nd floor.

The stairs were straight and came directly down from the top to the bottom floor. It was dark and lots of deep blue in the rooms. One room was the baby's room - filled to the rafters with pampers, baby wipes, and other baby toiletries. You were somewhere talking to p as I examined the 75 different types of diaper absorbency (low flow, wings, no wings, nighttime, afternoon...) You came back upstairs - really upset - said p didn't understand your 'mission' (apparently birthing babies from women who didn't get to make it to the hospital) and wanted you to be more 'traditional' - not show your legs and wear the hijab. !! You shared your displeasure with me as you packed your 'nanny to go' ditty bag. You went downstairs again and heard the two of you talking in farsi - you saying little - "ehkhla", "fkhalla" angrily and forcefully as he lahlahlahed on and on. You stormed out of the house with your bag and left me alone. The house fell silent.

I ended up on the outside - and despite the fact that there was ice on the lines and telephone poles, it was really warm. I had to come back in - but this time, had to swing from the telephone pole, and slide 007 style across the clothesline, break the ice and climb up a gym rope to get back into your upstairs. I was upset that you had left without me - and I sat in a sea of uber thick baby wipes and sulked - feeling left out and unimportant.

how fucked is that!?
And from what I could see of p, he was wearing those silly Aldan shoes, a long flowing robe and looked like someone from the Hobbit, but had an overgrown goatee and mammoth sideburns..

weird.

Are you planning to get a hijab girlfriend?
off to my mom's - call you later bella - oxoxox

word count...

I'm doing a quick scan over the amount I've put down here on blogger over the past two years.

Fuck.

That is a lot of writing!!!

I'm afraid to even begin to count!!


Any bets as to how many pages this would come out to ?

xmas schmexmas

I'm still up after going against my better judgment and having that extra cup of java at 9pm.

and now I'm up and wide awake

I'm feeling a little bleh, perhaps it's lack of sleep, lack of mental stimulation today (had to go to church and was subjected to a priest who just loves to hear himself talk - this time about bread... don't ask) and too much incense. There was so much of that shit in the air, I was surprised that no smoke alarm went off.

There was a serious amount of smoke.
and it stank like you would not believe!

I am running out of coherent adjectives to describe the stench, but it was enough to make me dry heave at the back of the church. I had to go outside to clear my lungs. It was seriously gross.

so now I clackety clack by myself in my front room, making not very much sense, wishing I could call up somebody and just start to spew random rantings.

Feeling pretty crappy.
Not too sure about my photography shit either.
is it good? Is it publishing worthy?

I mean, obviously it is because it has been - right?

ahh.
Late night rantings.


*******
For my new year's resolutions, I promised myself that I would
a) join a gym
b) join a dance class (there is a cool tango place - and upstairs is a hip-hop school)
c) have my writings published in least two magazines
d) have at least 1 solo show in Montreal
e) work on my documentary - start the damm thing by myself and not wait for anybody to help me (or give me the startup funds I need to get it off the ground - can you say - max out all your credit cards ?)
f) some other things I wrote on my palmpilot but have now forgotten
(oh yea, get all my shit together and start that book I have been talking about)

and maybe g) - start another play to leave SALC behind, and make this one my own baby - no co-writers involved (and if I do decide to have one come on board - sign a contract to make things clear)


I have a lot on my plate, but I'm hoping that I'll find the strength somewhere to muster it up when I need it.

A vacation to cuba would be nice...

the accident of my being a photographer...

And if a day goes by without my doing something related to photography, it's as though I've neglected something essential to my existence, as though I had forgotten to wake up. I know that the accident of my being a photographer has made my life possible.


Richard Avedon, 1970



yes.
Accident indeed.


Thank you Mr. Avedon.
you've manged to lift the veil of confusion from the purpose of my life.

blast from the past and other reasons for holiday cheer...

I'm off today

And I'll be off until the 3rd of January!!
YEA!

no more work - thank GOD!
I was reaching my saturation point - the moment I'd step foot into the elevator and begin my ascent into office chaos, stomach acid would begin to bubble up my throat.

It's all quiet on the gastrointestinal front this morning.

I've been given some herbal remedy from my accupuncture dude - it's odd - looks and smells like Shake n' Bake. I'm going to give it a shot - and must give it a chance. Despite my inital doubt as to the validity of chinese medicine, I must say that it's worked wonders so far. Without it, I can honestly say that I don't beleive I would be here typing now, but rather somewhere in a hospital wearing my holiday themed straight jacket.

He also told me that it's going to taste bitter.

if it works...


Good news - mom's scan came back negative for any new cancers.

We are all releived!
And grandma is coming home for xmas!

this all sounds like it has the makings of a Hallmark Xmas tv special

and it's all good.



we're getting her a digital camera (mom) - she must have more than 50 rolls of undeveloped film lying around the house - this way it's just a 'point and click' to instant photos. I think she'll get a kick out of it.


I had the best pre-xmas surprise the other day!
One of my long lost high school partners in crime found me and sent me a wonderful email - bringing back wonderful memories of the good times we shared in those 'wonder years' of our teenage youth. He is doing very well in the mid-put not so mid west and is quite the socialite; but he has not changed. Still the crazy brilliant dude that was such a big part of my life back then. It's been a joy emailing him and can't wait to yak on the phone the way we used to.

Some friendships really stand the test of time - the best ones are those who have no age. You can pick up where you left off without missing a beat. I know that is what I've been needing for a while. Good old friendship soup for the soul.

I'm hoping that 2007 will be the start of something big and better than the shit that has been shoveled in my direction this year.

so far (knock on wood) so good.

I'm going to commemorate the ending of one play and begining of another by starting a new work on the same day I began Sex and La Cité. It's going to be my closure and opening of a new chapter/act/scene/ in my so called life as a seinfeld episode called life...


All the best during this holiday season!!

xo

countdown

So mom is having her scan as I type this.
We are both nervous as hell


Aside from the last time (the firs time when she had the scan to see if the cancer had spread to her lymph nodes) we waited on pins and needles for days. What a releif it was to know that it had'nt spread.

This time, the doctor has specifically sent her to see what's going on with her liver.

what if the cancer has spread to the liver?

I don't even want to think about that.

God.
I am praying so hard right now for a happy and cancer free xmas...

Waiting

Monday, mom is going for her PET scan.
She's had a fever for more than two weeks. Last week it began to show up during the day.

The doctor told her to come in Wedensday
that's when they will get the results of the scan

My mom is worried that the cancer has spread to her liver.

I am freaking out.

I know that there is nothing we can do about it at this point, except worry, and to worry doesn't accomplish anything, but I still do.


Because she is my mom, because she means the world to me, because she has always been there, because it kills me to see her so sick and weak,

because this can kill her


The old folks home where my grandmother is staying has an outbreak of c-difficile

We were hoping to have her come home for xmas - that one day so we can all spend it together like the wonderful little family we are.

But it looks like she might be quarantined for God knows how long...

And my play - in a week, it will be two years ago that I began SALC. If I knew what I know know about what was going to happen, and how I would be stabbed in the back like this, yes - I would have thought twice about taking on this play...

do do sphere

More ramblin...


Anything that John offers will benefit you.
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this seems to be a huge resource covering lots of different areas.
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Plus he'll have to deal with ball-hawking corner Charles Tillman.
studio fifty-fifty
housetop and I saw him, and, When they may kill the country of
This applies to their privatelives where they must account to themselves, and to
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Your Daily Meditation - Women with High Self Esteem Do This
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no proof
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syndication
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and no wonder that even the great Bill Gates lost his self confidence.
Your Daily Meditation - Arguments with Friends
Since I never use this utility, I can't be of much help
Have emission
Be is string

c is for crazy, c is for chernobyl

I had a full blown - albeit short and swift meltdown last night - and it brought back too many memories of when my core reactor would slowly heat up, alarms sound, people around would panic, terrified and then, once past the point of no-recovery cooling, I'd morph into raidoactive toxic rage.

Imagine taking a spoonfull of scalding hot soup.
Close your mouth around the spoon and wait.
Wait until the pain begins to travel through the first layer of skin.
Wait for the electric shock of copper wire to scrape the roof of your mouth -

but don't open your mouth...

now, open your mouth.

Everything that you've kept in, plus the extra saliva that was created by desperate glands to quell the flames, peices of vegatables, noodles - all come rushing out - projectile style.

that was me last night.

too much in my little old lady change purse - the geanology of paranoia expanded too fast for me, and was not able to accuratley map it through logic or reason.

All of it - my mom's fever (chemo+fever < healthy immune system + c-dificile = dire complications)
My play and the little bit of glory I had being credited as "the writer" before that &%*# stole it, blindsided by rage arid and icy desperation seeping up through my toes to my spine -
it all hit the sparkplug waiting to be charged

and it did.


I felt the energy come - the superhuman strength, vibratations crawling from underneath my eyelids. Without any awareness other than my ability to just watch and fear, the house became spiderwebs through which I had to claw at to exit.

thank god I was too tired and in too much pain to even try...

a sequel to a saga spoofing the re-runs of a series...

This farce is never-ending.

(and in my defense, for anybody reading this blog who happens to just stumble upont his post without reading the back story, you might have to do some research. These women were KNOWN in the acting circles as cut throat witches, and somebody had told me after the fact: You were warned)

My life has gone from crazy bizarre seinfeld-esque coincidences, absurd happenings, was transformed into a "sex and la Cite" success, but has taken a turn "As the World Turns"...

I'm just so outraged by all of this stupidity - that my one glory moment is being hogged by two women who are so notoriety hungry - that they are willing to stab me in the back to get it.

I know - wake up - this is reality

No wonder the ice-caps are melting in the North Pole - nobody gives a flying fuck about what they do or who they do it to!!!

But I environmentally digress.

So the shit - all of it from the top guys... a sequel to a saga spoofing the re-runs of a series... a play by - you know who...


It all starts here...

ACT 1

The glorious gleanings of this story began when I sent out my cattle call group email to everybody because my photo was on the cover of a new magazine. I was elated, and wanted to share my joy with everybody (because so many of my friends except a few) have been my tireless cheerleaders and are rooting for me, every wonderful baby step I make in realizing my dreams.

Imagine if you could, the following: -

a brief email stating that my photo was on a magazine cover
- the attached scanned cover of the magazine
- thanks for support and positive vibes from all who cared.

Then imagine this:
Upon receiving many congratulatory emails on my oeuvre, I get this..

Wow, good for you girl. Awesome.
Not to rain, but I don't know if you heard that SALC will be playing at the Centaur in January. It would be nice to get together some time. Not that I have much, but maybe or an hour or two after a band practice which is near your place. I leave it up to you.

ciao bella, p

To translate:
Not to rain,(1) but I don't know if you heard(2) that SALC will be playing at the Centaur in January.(3)

1.Don't mean to take the wind out of your sails, don't mean to rain on your parade, hate to burst your bubble What do all of these phrases mean? YES, you do mean to burst my only bubble, take the wind out of my skimpy sails, and turn into a hurricane at my shiner’s parade!! DUH! Because if you didn't, you would not say anything!

2. I don't know if you heard...
I guess you might not have heard, but if you did, don't be mad at me because I didn't tell you first - or - just in case you hear it through the grapevine, I don't want you to be pissed off at me cause I waited till last minute to tell you, and am telling you now to save my ass...

3. If you look back two years ago, we were supposed to play at the Centaur. How a show that won two awards, cleaned up the city playing 5 different venues and selling out all 13 shows didn't make it to that year's wild side festival is still an X-file to me. And how it got in this year - the sequel (no comment) is as unexplained as how breathing into a paper bag can cure hiccups. (Looking for an obscure phenomena, but am at a loss for words...)

SO TO RECAP:
1) I didn't mean = I meant to be a bitch and rain on your parade
2)My sequel to the play you wrote is
3) getting the glory that the first one SHOULD have received BUT ISN'T.
4) ciao bella = see ya sucker!

ACT 2

My Reply:

December 1, 2006 11:16 AM
Yes P, we definitely need to talk. And in terms of the play at the centaur in January, you are not talking about the original SALC I gather, because I would assume you would have contacted me already for rehearsals. There are some details we must iron out.


Her reply:
No it is Salc part two (1) and yes we would have contacted you for rehearsals (2), we could have used for this one as well (3), but you weren't available because of your mother (4). How is she by the way?(5)

Translation:

1) its the sequel to the play - the one that we re-used most of your jokes from...
2) we could have, but consciously made a decision not to
3) ahh - the sick mother - a good excuse not to contact somebody
4) and oops, sorry for not contacting you sooner - before I rained on your parade, and by the way, to save face, I'll ask how your mother is so I won't seem like a real bitch...

Offstage
- the sound of screams and items of value and glass being smashed to smithereens.
My irate, yet perfectly honest and rightfully upset and insulted retort is as follows:

So P, what's up with this "co-writer" thing you've put on the centaur site about the original SALC? That’s news to me - since when did my 'written by" change to co-writer, and why was I not informed? I guess you're just adding more rain on my parade by posting another link via your PDF on the Wildside Festival site which says the same thing... Funny, cause the last time I checked here and here it still said "written by "...
Can you please explain that to me?

And as ready as I tried to be in braving the harlot gauntlet, I was not ready for this:

Her response.
K, as you may recall when we were doing the show, A and I approached you regarding the credits for writing(1). We believed then (2) and still do now, that it was a collaborative effort (3) Even if you did most of the main writing(4**) if you did most of the main writing. We gave you ideas, plots, scenes, helped you put the scenes in order, even wrote specific dialogue in scenes (5), and then I was the main editor (5), working with you and/or A to get the script from 70 pages down to 30,(6) which also involved some rewrites for dialogue and voiceovers.

However, at the time, because of your reactions when we approached you (7), we felt that for the good of the show(8), we would give you the full credit.(9)

Unfortunately, I don't think we will be able to see eye to eye on this (10) and I am sorry that this is upsetting you (11). But we feel we are giving credit where credit is due. (12)

P & A

translation:
1) even though you wrote it, you didn't really write it...

2) we knew from the beginning, and not telling you from the beginning

3) see later definition/duties of Director, and producer

4) A blatant admission to the fact that I did do most of the writing

5) it's your story - you give a writer ideas to write ! That's how working with a screenwriter/playwright works!!!

6) Slice and dice cold detached chop and toss - you didn't write it, so why should you care!?

7) reference to their asking for "co-editing credit" and my reaction - then see definitions of director and producer...

8) didn't want everybody to hate us because they knew that you were in the right and we were in the wrong (and oh, of course, our self-interest above all)

9) And we did it through clenched teeth - you whiny miserable playwright bitch.

10) face it woman, it's us against you

11) we don't really give a flying fuck if this is upsetting you, but we will do it anyway...

12) We want to have it all - be the director, producer and main actors
AND, oh yea, WRITERS AS WELL!!

INTERMISSION

ACT 3

I figured it's about time that these girls get a lesson in the real world of show business

P,
Have you ever read the real definitions of what a real director's duties are? The way you and your partner are acting, I would guess not... For your information, these are taken from the Internet Movie Databasehttp://imdb.com/Glossary/ and more information can be found here...
http://www.artsalive.ca/en/eth/playwright
http://www.artsalive.ca/en/eth/director/

Before pulling rank on me, I think you should inform yourself as to who does what. I guess in your world, protocol does not apply. And by the way - we had agreed that the final script we entered into the fringe was "written by " and then included "edited by me, you and her" on your request. Sorry my dear, I don't remember seeing you writing 18 hours a day, all day, every day for a month. And besides, if it weren't for my script, and my idea that the girls come to Montréal, you would not be where you are right now - there would have not been a smash success, or a sequel for that matter. And fact remains fact - you can't do much without a great script or the foundation of it. You should familiarize yourself with these definitions before you go around saying you wrote or 'co-wrote' the play. Don't you think there is a reason why "director" and "producer' are always the first in the credits? And why don't I see you taking your name into "costume design co designed by", ""co- choreographed by". Try running that one by la danseuse. I'm sure she'd be thrilled....

I don't see why not - If you did it for the writer, well hell, you should do it for everything else you had your hands in. According to your kind of logic, this should make sense...

Director: The principal creative artist on a movie set.
A director is usually (but not always) the driving artistic source behind the filming process, and communicates to actors the way that he/she would like a particular scene played. A director's duties might also include casting, script editing, shot selection, shot composition, and editing. Typically, a director has complete artistic control over all aspects of the movie, but it is not uncommon for the director to be bound by agreements with either a producer or a studio. In some large productions, a director will delegate less important scenes to a second unit.

Producer: The chief of staff of a movie production in all matters save the creative efforts of the director, who is head of the line. A producer is responsible for raising funding, hiring key personnel, and arranging for distributors. See also associate producer, co-producer, executive producer, line producer, Producer's Guild of America. Writer:A general term for someone who creates a written work, be it a novel, script, screenplay, or teleplay. See also Writers Guild of America.

Playwrights create scripts. Like other literary artists, playwrights tell stories through the words and actions of characters. While the work of the playwright can stand on its own as literature, its potential is fully realized only when the skills of all the other theatre artists combine to transform the script into a production of a play. While most playwrights, like most writers, work alone, sometimes they share the task of script creation with actors and directors in a process known as collective creation. Here everyone takes a hand in researching the story idea and developing the script. But because the skillful ordering and re-creation of events is central to the playwright’s art, the final task of shaping the raw material into a coherent and effective play/script will normally fall to the playwright.

So those are industry standards.

I'm sure I can find other real professionals in the business that would be more than happy to back up these facts, and my rightful credit on the script.

I figured that this pretty much states shit in black and white - but I forgot - reason and logic go out the window in their "me" centered universe...

K, thank you for the information, and this is taken from it" But because the skillful ordering (I was up with you till 5 in the morning doing this) and re-creation of events is central to the playwright’s art, the final task of shaping the raw material into a coherent and effective play/script will normally fall to the playwright."

I played a huge hand in the skillful ordering , and the final task of shaping the raw material was done by all 3 of us. Also, before we met you A and I discussed several different scenarios about doing a play on SALC and one of HER ideas was to have the girls come to Montreal, I felt differently, we therefore decided to find someone to come in and write for us. You had the same idea as A, which suited her just fine. I conceded. K, good luck in your future endeavors.

This is all that I will communicate on this matter. P


What does all of this mean - in not so veiled terms?
A big FUCK YOU is what she means.

ASIDE

Sure, I was a little bit emotional in my response, (I’m not blaming PMS) and I was perhaps too emotionally attached to the play, but at the same time, SALC was my final hope and prayer to a springboard to my career. I wasn't asking for much. Just a fucken writing credit - is that so much to ask? Must you NEED that much attention and soak up all that fame like pork fat on a slice of rye bread!?

I guess so.

And it's a sad day in TV sequel land because with my writing smarts, their acting experience, and our fantastic comedic timing and chemistry, we could have created our own next "Sex and the City".

The end (or is it?)

More verbal diarrhea

this spam crap is getting kind of funny.

I will stitch together some of this stuff over the holidays

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a 75 mg slide

I'm going onto 75 mg today - from yesterday's 112mg of Effexxor, and I'm starting to feel the effects.

There is the agitation, increased appetite, sleeplessness - night sweats, vivid dreams, shakes and depression.

I can feel the apathy set in again, often finding my brows furrowed as I sit typing at my desk, trying to remember to do the yoga lion face pose.

Mouth open wide, tongue out, eyelids UP!

lids are lips are curling down, perhaps to keep me grounded somehow.
I don’t know anymore.



I'm feeling horribly betrayed and wish I could just pound the hell out of those women, but I'm exhausted all the time now. My Popsicle stick legs could barely carry me up the hill this morning as my icicle tip fingers tried to rub away the cold on my knees.


We are supposed to go to a party tonight - work party - always fun...

Must go back home and change.
Must go back home and leave ms. effexxor-less behind.


I hate the holidays...

The biggest kick in the face...

Well, so much for things coming full circle...

Last year, at this time, I was approached to write a sequel of sex and the city.

I did - put it under my hat and almost overnight - and last summer I came up with a premise so funny, we sold out 13 out of 13 shows everywhere we played.

And now I'm getting kicked in the face.

Not only are the girls* going to be putting the sad sequel to the spoof on again, they have re-used 95% of my jokes, took the same premise of the girls in Montreal, they are going to be playing at the Centaur (montreal's theater venue) in January.

So the fame and buzz will be about them, for something I started.


AND THAT"S NOT IT!


I am marked as "co-writer"

co-written by....

I almost ripped my eyes out.

And they are not saying anything, except one of them said in response to my good news about my cover shot:

congratulations!
Great Job

I don't mean to rain on your parade, but we are going to be playing at the centaur in January...


You fucken bitch.

Of course you meant to rain on my parade! Why else would you say that for?!?

I am fuming.
I can think of only one other time I have felt this betrayed.

But that's another story.

If they want to be douchebags about this - then get ready girls.

the claws are coming out....




*i use that term loosley - because what I have to really say would be too profane to write on this blog...

Re: Question

more delightful spam -a -lam!



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Nor does visiting the country transform someone into an expert.

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SPAM, eggs and "stingy abandoned"

I am so tired of getting all this SPAM!
It's at the point now that I'm finding it amusing to look at the subject lines.
I've decided to keep a running list of the classics.

Perhaps I'll string them all together and made some story...

now there's a good idea!

(by the way - it's 16°C - 60 °F.

Not to shabby considering we're an area used to temps of -30°C with the wind chill factor!!!

Spam Spam Glorious Spam!

jtrademark

FW:Here's what I was telling you about ...

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Yippie!!!

WOOO HOOO!!
This just made my fricken day!!






I just had to share.

big wheel spinning

First of all,
I want to thank everyone who visits here.
Your words really mean a lot to me - especially in times like these.

Just knowing that there is someone out there makes it all the worth while to continue...



I'm at work now (yawn) and I can feel my big wheels spinning.

My eyes dart about the room like ants running for their lives from gigantic burst of RAID
every thing makes me wince and become exhasperated

I feel that the next thing will be the thing that makes me crack

and put my fist through this monitor
slam the keyboard against the wall
distroy this office peice by staple, paperclip, sticky note, memo, and pen

and stand in the middle of this corporate mess and pull my hair out
and cry until I can cry no more

and then roll up into a ball
and sleep for a very long time

50/50

mom went to go see the oncologist - the one who discoverd her cancer and operated on her

it will be a year in two weeks

already...

he said that people with melanoma have a 50/50 % chance of survival - those are her odds.
She told me and was optimisitc - I hope I'll be in the top 50%

it hit me - 50%

Is the glass half full or half empty?

Russian roulette with cancer.

Freaked the fuck out of me, I don't even want to think about the other half...

shook me to the core -as if my body and mind already needed shaking...


fucken fuck...

when the comfort isn't there...

I had a horrible day at work.

Found out that I'm saddled with this debt and it's a catch 22, and am terrified that I'm going to end up a bag lady at 55, without any money, or family.

This is not a stretch of the imagination.

This is reality.

And the thought that I might just have to leave my dream of being a photographer behind as an unfulfilled one is real as well.

And tonight, something is dying inside - my hope, my beleif in little miracles, and trust in myself.

I called my mom (because mom's are supposed to be there to help in times like this, but I got a kick in the face - and still bruised from another delightful doomsday seeker at work:

"you know, things in life never change. You just have to accept it. You will be alone and broke, and then you will die while others retire in peace and happiness.

Reminds me when I used to work at the Neuro - my Nazi Boss - M. Arts "Things are only gonna get worse!!" That was all he said, all the time. It was the seed of brain cancer that has now grown into my whole body.

I just needed some mom's tlc.

But I didn't get any.

Thank God for my man. He seems to be the only one who understands me now.

I wrote this to my mother, teary and heavy.

Mom.
I am so upset now, you have no idea.
I'm sorry I just hung up on you, but the pain was just so deep.

I know you can't be superwoman all the time, but I was hoping that you heard it in my voice that I needed some comfort, encouragement when I was really feeling like giving it all up.

And you know and have seen me slipping into this up and down roller-coaster: one day up, next day crashing into the ground - the monster I call manic depression, and decreasing these meds makes me even more vulnerable to sadness and pessimism, an open wound in a wind storm.

even one grain of sand can cause an enormous amount of pain out of proportion to the cause of that pain.



Dixie Daredevil says:
It is a wonderful photo ...everyone has said many of the things I am feeling. I miss you, Kat. As you are feeling drawn to Flickr again, I am feeling less inclined to be here these days. I hope we have some overlapping time. You're wonderful...

jenny -- says:
there is something so touching about your photography and your words... I'm looking forward to seeing you here again! :*

And these are comments from people who have seen my images on flickr - that photo sharing place.

These are complete strangers.

I needed to hear that from them, but tonight, I really needed to hear that from you...

I don't know what to say.
I'm going to take a sleeping pill and hope that my horrible day won't wear off into nightmares...

Fuck La Provence!

As much as I love living here, I am realizing that it's killing me to exist in this part of Canada.


A $30, 000 student loan won't go away - even if I die! Figure that out.

Quebec is ruthless in clamping down on student loans.

I've had serious health problems over the years, and one unfortunate circumstance after another in the past 10.

I'm lucky to be able to eat, let alone live under a roof that is not cardboard.


if the fucken gvmt were at least sympathetic - reduce my loan even by 1/2!
I would try to pay that.
I don't want them to think I'm a freeloader,

But when I saw this, I nearly cried and screamed.
I'm now debating wether I should pack my bags and head out west.


Fucken Quebec Government.

not wonder we have the highest suicide rate in Canada!!!!!!!!!


B.C. Loan Forgiveness Program

Overview

The B.C. loan forgiveness program recognizes the increasing need for skilled professionals in underserved communities in the province.

This program has been designed to provide British Columbia Student Loan (BCSL) forgiveness to graduates from accredited post-secondary educational institutions in various professions who agree to work in publicly funded facilities in underserved areas of British Columbia.
Graduates from accredited schools in nursing (including licensed practical nurses and nurse practitioners) and from medical, midwifery and pharmacy schools who began their final year of study on or after Aug. 1, 2000, will have all outstanding BCSL debt forgiven at a rate of 33 1/3 per cent per year.

Students graduating on or after Dec. 1, 2004, from speech language pathology, occupational therapy, audiology and physiotherapy, who will be working with children in underserved communities, will have all outstanding BCSL debt forgiven at a rate of 33 1/3 per cent per year.

Eligibility Criteria
To be eligible for the B.C. loan forgiveness program, you must:
Be employed (full time, part time, and/or casual/on call) at a publicly funded facility in a designated underserved community within B.C.
Have an outstanding BCSL in good standing
Have graduated from an accredited post-secondary institution
Have started your final year of study on or after Aug. 1, 2000 (for nurses, nurse practitioners, doctors, midwives and pharmacists)
Have graduated on or after Dec. 1, 2004 (for speech language pathologists, occupational therapists, audiologists and physiotherapists)
Not be in full-time studies
Note: If your file is under audit, your application will be held until the audit is complete.

How to Apply
B.C. loan forgiveness applications are available through the Student Services Branch or in PDF format below. You must complete your application and forward it to your BCSL lender for completion of the lender's section. The lender will then return the application to you.
Along with the initial application, an original letter from the publicly funded facility or health authority confirming your employment must be submitted.

Note:
If you have a practitioner number, you must submit a letter from your health authority confirming that you serve in the community.
Professionals under contract to the Province must ensure their employment letter also includes the contract number and ministry involved.
Midwives must also submit a letter from the Association of Midwives confirming their registration.

An official sealed transcript showing that graduation requirements have been fulfilled must be included with your first application for loan forgiveness.
At the end of each 12 months of employment, within thirty days of your anniversary date, you must submit a letter from your employer confirming that 12 months of employment have been completed. A reminder letter will be sent out from the Student Services Branch before your anniversary date.

You must submit an application for loan forgiveness to the Student Services Branch at the beginning of each year of employment. Second- and third-year applications must be received by the Student Services Branch within 30 days of your anniversary date.

You just don't get it, do you...

Hmm.
I am amazed sometimes as to how people can have such a narrow minded view about things.

Sure, everybody is entitled to their own opinion, but don't berate others who have a different view than you do, especially when it's something that you have both shared.

This got me a little miffed, and that's why i'm posting it....

This was taken from a flickr group that deals with depression and bi-polar:


hellophotokitty says:
Hello everybody.
I've been away for a while cause I've been trying to process and calm the crazy side effects that I'm getting now that I'm coming down (and eventually off) effexxor.

I told my doc that I wanted to take baby steps - 30 mg less each other week.
'well, you know that it will take longer for you to come off of it..."

DUH!

I told him that i didn't care, as long as I would'nt end up in the hospital from the horrible withdrawl symptoms.

I've had a few manic episodes tho - and not the 'good creative kind"

The doc says that my system may be de-stabilized but I beg to differ. I remember reading that some meds may even make you hyper manic..

Thanks to CBT, I managed to nip them in the bud - see the paranoia sneaking around the corner, quell the racing thoughts that piggy back on eachother, but sometimes, the mania hits like a bolt of lightning - and I stand stunned and overwhelmed.

I was so pleased with myself last week as I found the perfect metaphor to describe the feeling in my head when I'm on the ladder to mania:

Imagine the sound of a thousand zippers going up and down at the same time - that is what I hear in my head...


What about you? Have you had any increase in side effects from decreasing medication?


Scrybl says:
Efexor is notorious for having a withdrawal syndrome. You have to come off it very very slowly and with the help of other medication. It's a good antidepressant, but a bitch to come off of. My psychiatrist said that you need other meds to help you come off it. All the best of luck to you.




Grey Skies, Sad Eyes says:
when i went off effexor it was horrible, i was throwing up, shaking, and i was just completly out there, for like a week. but i did stop cold turkey, i ran away from home with out my pills so i couldnt really help but stop........ but i have come off a lot of meds and things often will get worse for a while just because your body has to reajust.... but dont give up hope it took me three years but now im med free and feeling better then ever....




jouste says:
i don't get it!
this thing about being off meds is REALLLLLY weird to me.
if i go off my meds there is a way higher than average chance i will either be dead or in prison.
the last time i went off meds i was in a manic state of paranoid hallcuinations for six days, called the police six times, and was OUT OF MY HEAD!
i thought i was doing just fine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
so, excuse me if i have no pity or sympathy with people who screw around with meds.
you either need them or you don't but if you go off of them you owe it to the people around you and society in general to not be too ill in the first place.
otherwise stay on them and deal with it.




madmike73 says:
Last year they tried to ween me off of Efexor. The thinking was I was already taking an anti-depressant, Remeron, along with lithium and adavan so i could probably eliminate Efexor. Every second week i would drop 37.5 of the Efexor. When I finally got down to the last 37.5 is when I started getting the wierd withdrawals. It would feel like an electrical pulse starting at the base of my spine and running up into my brain and vibrating. My mind started to race, and I started pacing the floors. My mind always races though, but at least with the meds it's blunted a bit.

About the hypermanic....I was put on Paxil, and it actually agitated me. I literally couldn't sit down. I would go to work for 10 hours, walk to a gym, 4miles round trip, stay up all night watching tv, and eventually get about two hours sleep. That went on for a year till i crashed. MY Aunt is bipolar and had a similar experience with Paxil.

You're under a doctors care, and it seems like you know yourself pretty well. You'll know what you need or don't.

Good luck, hope you're feeling ok.




jodiemim says:
Effexor withdrawl was a bitch for me too, but I did it and you will too. I had the weird brain thingies and the flu symptoms and the racing thoughts. it went away eventually, don't worry.

Weirdly enough, Paxil did crazy crap to me too. I was practically hallucinating (and that's not something I typically do) and I was totally panicked. Apparently it has really bad effects on some people!
Posted 14 hours ago. ( permalink )


covinichrome says:
Oh lord, I thought I had it hard coming off paroxetine, but reading this I see I got off very lightly. I wish you well.

I tried to come off pararoxetine cold turkey in the mid-90s when withdrawal symptoms were only starting to be reported in the literature. (I remember massive anxiety and insomnia.) After showing such a report to my psychiatrist I was weaned off paroxetine with a tapering dose of fluoxetine over two weeks. It was perhaps the weirdest time I've ever experienced. I felt my life was a movie, with myself and all around me as characters; it was reminiscent of a low-grade mushroom trip without euphoria, during which I was expected to function as normal.

The great thing was that once the trauma was over I felt real emotion for the first time in two years.

For the past few years I've been on moclobemide, which fortunately has almost no noticeable side effects, and no withdrawal symptoms at all. But it isn't an effective antidepressant for everyone.
Posted 8 hours ago. ( permalink )


My response (with a delicate finger point to Jouste)

hellophotokitty says:
Thank you everybody for sharing such intimate stories - it's often quite harrowing to recount even the most incidental of moments...

Scrybl - My new doc is listening to me because I told him that I've been on this medication for longer than he's been a doctor - that shook him up. But without further bruising his ego, I said that I had come to a point where I knew my body so well, and had experienced many different stages of withdrawal and increase in several medications that I could write my own information sheet about each medication. I have switched to the non SR (they didn't come in denominations lower than 75mg) to the regular effexor - and am going down slower, but have to keep the dosages timed (am, afternoon and pm) as to keep the level stable in my system...

Grey Skies, Sad Eyes - ouch! Cold turkey is always a huge shock to your system, even caffeine, sugars etc. I tried coffee - cold turkey, and that turned me into a shaking, quaking rambling, vomiting mess for two weeks. Any drug yanked out of your system quickly is bound to create havoc - the body has its own way of telling you "WOA NELLY!!" I'm glad you’re on the mend.
:-)

jouste :
"so, excuse me if i have no pity or sympathy with people who screw around with meds"

Hmm.
Everybody is entitled to their own opinions about these matters, but if might say so, I think you're being a little harsh about this. I'm not 'screwing around with' my meds. I've been on effexxor for almost 10 years, and over the last 4, it's just stopped working. My depressions got worse no matter how much I increased the dose. Why stay on a medication if it's not working? Withdrawal symptoms are part and parcel of the whole medication world, and it's something we must accept when we decide to take any kind of anti-depressant.

I'm sorry to hear that your experience was so horrible, and that you fell so rapidly and intensely. If you can find a medication that works for you, I'd say stick with it as long as you can. Why quit something that keeps you sane and alive? But when the medication is causing you more harm, grief and depression, it's time for a change, or at least, a modification in the hopes that you'll find something better...

madmike73 - ahh - those wonderful brain shocks. I've heard so many stories about this, and have experienced them myself - not pretty, and it worries me that even at the final small dose, you had those crazy side effects, but like you, I'm going REALLY slow, and if I even feel so much as an odd twitch, I re-adjust the dose (as in terms of decrease - keeping myself on a dose of 150 instead of dropping 50 mg in one shot). Paxil? I think there was a lot of controversy when people started committing suicide on it. I've heard horror stories, and have stayed away because of it. As I said to Jouste - we are all aware of the risks and side effects that come with these medications, it's not like we are going into this blindly, but there are some risks and variables as everybody's system is different. I hope you're doing better now.

jodiemim - thank you for your words of support. Coming from someone who's an effexxor withdrawal effects survivor, it gives me hope that I'll be able to kick this nasty brain shaking rollercoaster ride soon enough!

covinichrome - mid 90's - the days when excitement over new SSRI's and other cerebral happy seasonings were all the rage, mixing and matching drug classes was vogue. Little did many doctors know that some mixtures were toxic and harmful. I guess lab rats just didn't cut it when it came to exhibiting racing thoughts, panic attacks, and the surreal Avant Garde cinematic - waiting for the credits to role headspace that many of us found ourselves in, despite repeated attempts to sleep it off, or ignore it. I'm happy that you've found your 'right med' and right dose after all these years. That makes all the difference.

I will keep you all posted on my progress... :-)



I'm waiting for his comeback to my post...

this should be interesting...

dogsmell

I love animals, and love cats and dogs, but there are several reasons why I only have two cats:

a) lack of wide open spaces or a back yard
b) i'm not home during the day/afternoon
c) I don't have the money to pay for all that dog food if I had a big dog
d) i hate waking up in the middle of the night to pee, let alone get up for a dog who has to pee in the middle of the night!
e) hate that "dogsmell" that can get into everything you own and touch!


Some dogs smell more than others. This is still a mystery to me.
No matter the size, each one is different.
If there are any vets or dog lovers out there, can you please enlighten me why and how this happens?

I love my friend, and love her dogs, but damm. I can't stand the smell!

I slept in a closed room with the puppy last night and I was overwhelmed with it. I was so close to just slathering the pooch with some Febreze, but there was none to be found.

Sometimes it's a good idea to carry some around.
Case in point.

The older pup was a more friendly this morning.
I have no clue what the hell happened last night, and was a wee bit miffed that I didn't even get a call to let me know that my panicked txt messages were received, at least acknowledged, because fungaool, I was a basket case and was ready to haul out of there....


So we shall wait for the update.


Woof.

Bad dog...

I am really mad.

I am really pissed off at my friend's dog


A dog who I knew when he was just a puppy.

And he snapped at me - twice!

I'm fed up.

I am here at her place, because she is out of town for the next two days.

I can't do anything with the dog. He's become so tempermental in his old age...


He's only 2.

Which is about 30 in human years right?


Mid life crisis perhaps?


Well, no dog walkie 2mrw.

I need my hand to type and file at work!!

Damm dog...

Ancient Chinese wisdom - Paris Hilton Style

This was just too funny. This is an example of something that would only happen to me; but I embrace it because I am a weirdo, freak, bizzaro energy magnet.

Hence the title of this blog

While everybody else was cracking open their cookies, sharing their snippets of ancient chinese wisdom, I looked down and there it was.

The fortune cookie that was meant for Paris Hilton...

The world turned on it's head

This is just silly.

What will people think of next?

Yes, I understand that space could be an issue for some people, but pluuuzze! Get a fricken smaller tree why don't you?!



Talk about getting into the xmas spirit.




in my next post, I will share the kind of ancient chinese wisdom everybody expects to get from a fortune cookie - but if I were Carrie Bradshaw!!

Travesty!

This is a video I did cinematography for.
It's quite hysterical.
Peter (the one going insane) played "Gino" in SALC last year (wow - already a year has gone by!) and here he's brilliant and insane. It was a ruined take (somebody knocking at the door), but it's considered a classic in my book!

Enjoy!

Another Saturday night...

God bless Hoegaarden. Because of it:
a) I am going to sleep like a baby tonight.
b) am able to type so fluidly (and thank god for the spell check option on this blog thingamajig...)
c) am able to laugh off the absurdities of what has been happening over the past few days.


E's father was diagnosed with prostate cancer a few weeks ago. He had the operation last night. All went well, but I find his family a bit odd: his wife did not go to the hospital and neither did his daughter. When my mom went in for her surgery, she had half of a football team behind her.

what's up with that?


I am losing my hair - serious hair loss. I am getting a bald spot on the back of my head. Hair thinning out all over. My body hair has stopped growing. That would be a good thing on its own (God knows I've spent a small fortune on waxing and electrolysis), but the location is all wrong. I don't know what is happening, and am terrified to hazard a guess.

I've been surfing the net. The problem lies in the fact that the amount of information available on www can be overwhelming. From Alopecia to Polycycstic ovarian syndrome, every symptom sounds like mine.
but is it?

I don't have the merit badge or alphabet soup tagged onto the end of my family name, therefore a diagnosis would only be conjecture. I fear the worst.

Surrounded by cancer, my body quakes at the presupposition of a diagnosis
or misdiagnosis...

I don't know what to do.

I treated myself to a Swedish massage today, but to my disappointment, I didn't get what I paid for, and that bugged the shit out of me.

So I sit here, a quarter past the witching hour, muscles taut, head throbbing, hair thinning, ovaries protesting, wondering when all of this mayhem will finally settle.


Oh, what to do.
Oh God help me find some answers...

"Dont blame us for her mood"

I came across this image while doing a search for PMS on Flickr.
I must say - it's images like this one that make me infuriated!
I would love nothing more than to take the ad exec who thought up this sick add, and lock him in my body during the worst 8 days of my life which happen once a month, every month, for the past 28 years of my life...

PMS has been something I have been struggling with for years, actually as long as I can remember. I was simultaneously diagnosed with PMDD (premenstrual dysphoric disorder), hypothyroidism and manic-depression after my first major breakdown at 20. I had been suffering in silence for years, not knowing what was happening to my body. To top it all off, my period was never regular, which would mean, I would PMS twice, sometimes three times a month.

Shortly after taking Prozac, my symptoms began to fade; periods became regular and those 8-15 days of hell each month shrunk down to 1-3 at most. Even those were not as bad as previous years.

Years later, the pms came back. Prozac began to lose its effect on me. I spiraled into another depression.

4 years after that, I joined a study on Effexxor and the efficacy of this drug and PMS. After establishing the right dosage, I was better again. This lasted for about 8 years. Then all hell broke loose.

Started all over again about 4 years ago. Started taking Welburtin, added some Topomax, then Neurontin, and now Lamictal. Nothing seems to work anymore, and the PMS is back again, more severe than ever. I dread the week before I bleed. There are times when I wish I could just have a hysterectomy and be done with it.

I become a monster when I pms. Not only am I volatile in mood, my whole body goes out of whack: my sense of smell becomes heightened, constant head splitting migraines, body aches so severe, I can't even stand or walk, cravings that would put a pregnant woman to shame, bloating, constipation.

But I've left out the mental disturbances...

This cornucopia of meds have already (and are) weaking havoc on my system, but PPMD throws everything into overdrive - everything to the power of 1000. I turn into a demonic shadow of my former self.

And this is with the medications that keep me from losing control...
It really rubs me the wrong way when others make fun of women who have pms. It also bothers me when other 'womanly ills" such as Post Partum Depression get more press and attention than something EVERY woman might suffer. Not every woman has a baby, but we all get our period...

Pre-menstural syndrome is still taboo. And being bi-polar in addition to that makes me feel even more like a monster than I can already be without it.


(I guess I am pmsing. The warning signs are so evident, and I try to make light of the situation, but when I'm already feeling like disappearing from the world, when taking my next breath seems like a chore, dealing with shedding part of what makes me a woman is just a lucid nightmare waiting to unfold.)

Flying by on damp fall air

The remnants of summer are flying by my window as I type this.
The beautiful greenery that I once swayed nearby is now yellowed and dying. Loose skin flapping in the damp wind. Waving goodbye to summer - to the sunshine the life and warmth; the the sparse hours of humid air, delicate winds slipping through sweat and cotton.

I am in an airplane.

At the terminal, groups of trees divide into single leaves of color and various states of decomposition. Inside my body, limbic systems make a final check and then idle. Eyelids pulled down by age and sleep distort images already filtered through impenetrable pressurized glass. The haze of outside weather and liters of internal fluid - symbiotic, moving in tandem, preparing for the change of seasons.


12:35pm
Sunday October 15th, 2006

p a s s e n g e r

p a s s e n g e r
Originally uploaded by ! __flashback.

Here in my car
I feel safest of all
I can lock all my doors
It's the only way to live in cars.

Here in my car
I can only receive
I can listen to you
It keeps me stable for days in cars.

Here in my car
Where the image breaks down
Will you visit me please
If I open my door in cars

Here in my car
You know I've started to think
About leaving tonight
Although nothing seems right in cars.


This has become my hiding place.
I can hide here for days...

Under the desk duty

I'm so tired latley - feeling a need to stop, sleep and hide all the time. Working 9 to 5 is killing me. I took a nap underneath my desk today. I had to laugh - remembering George with his little nook under his desk.

And now on a lighter note..

Jerry: (on phone) hello.

GEORGE: Jerry, I'm trapped under my desk. Steinbrenner is in the room. You got to help me.

JERRY: Who is this?

GEORGE: Jerry, . . .

Kid: Hi,

GEORGE: Sh, sh, goodbye, sh, get away.

Kid: Hi, I'm Brady.

GEORGE: ?? get away??

JERRY: Why don't you just have him paged?

GEORGE: Can't you think of something. Call in a bomb threat.

JERRY: A bomb threat? Why would I call in a bomb threat?

GEORGE: Just CALL!

JERRY: I should have some reason.

STEINBRENNER: Hey you kids know tunes; see if this song rings a bell, "Heartbreaker , . . . "

Woman: Mr. Steinbrenner we just received a call. There's a bomb in the building.

STEINBRENNER: A bomb in the building, oh, m'god. Quick, everyone under the desk

STEINBRENNER: Boy can you think of what went through my mind when I saw there wasn't going to be enough room under that desk for me and my babies.

GEORGE: I'm sorry sir.

STEINBRENNER: You know what I think? I think you knew about that bomb ahead of time.

GEORGE: What?

STEINBRENNER: ???? about that bomb. You climbed under that desk because you have ESP. George, what's on my mind? . . . Meatballs! Huh? Unbelievable. Anyway this terrorist had a specific demand. Not more cheap adjustable hats on hat day. He wants fitted hats just like the players wear.


God bless the creators and actors of Sienfeld...

cancer of the mind - a letter to a friend

This was a letter I wrote to a friend. Too tired to comment...



Withdrawl symptoms are hard. I'm trying to go down gradually - 35 mg per two weeks, but I can feel it already - the nausea, the headaches, the achey flu like symptoms, but the worst is the fading hope, the dark cloud that keeps on getting bigger and bigger.

I equate it to a mental cancer - this depression eats away at my view on life, tainting it, making it ill, corroded, ugly and deadly. Each day is a struggle to keep afloat. Fucken medication.

I'm trying accupuncture - I have nothing left to lose at this point. I'm trying to go every week. The menu of meds I take every morning make me feel like a walking department store of pills and I wonder if I ever went off of them, would my body ever be able to function properly.

I look at my mother and she's one of the reasons I'm still alive. Without her to be my inspiration, I don't know where I'd be now. If she can go through cancer and chemo, I can go through this. The thing is, like I said before, this is a cancer of the mind which affects the body which effects the morale, which effects my existance. It's more complicated than I thought it would be.

Have I mentioned that almost every night, I dream of plane crashes and air raids? Metal birds in the sky colliding - exploding, falling
people terrified, helpless
screaming, horrified

fighter planes with their engines on fire
chasing renegade bombs before they hit the ground


I dreamt that I was looking outside my bedroom window and a huge jumbo jet engine roared by, nearly missing the house. The turbine was so close, I could almost touch it.

The smell of hot jet fuel almost melted my lungs.


what's next?
I cried over and over again.


when will this nightmare end?

Dreamt that a friend had become a crack whore - left her darling husband, 3 beautiful boys and took to the streets.

One night at a party, she was brutally beaten and died from her injuries. People stood around and watched. She screamed for help. Nobody cared. Everybody got too scared to become involved.

I heard about what had happened seconds after it began. Terrified, not looking behind me, I ran into the house.
terrified and feeling guilty
for feeling terrified

I acted surprised when the news broke that she died; but secretly wondered if my effort could have made a difference or would my body become a battered mess, brought down into the moment from the momentum of growing anger.

I was alive and she was dead.
survivor's guilt

Dreamer's despair

I try to keep awake as long as my body can endure
I don't wasn't to sleep and wake up terrified again...

Letter to a friend - Tuesday night - 10:20pm

Girl,
You're the only one I can talk to, so please forgive me if I begin to be my dark self.

It's getting more difficult, every day.
going off the meds is something I'm getting 2nd thoughts about.
Each day gets a little less sunny, a little less full, a little darker, heavier.

My laugh lines around my mouth are getting deeper. I find that to be a completly cruel joke as I'm doing anything but smiling or laughing lately.

A smile upside-down.


My stomach is expanding - combination of bloating and blockage.
I look like I am 4 months pregnant - another irony.
Empty womb - empty space. I lack any kind of glow.
I am beginning to hate my body.
No, loathe is a better word.

Loathe all that is inside of me, all that I've lost over the years, and all the extra weight, skin, years that wait for me to stop running and finally stand still.

Empty
empty

I can't even carry myself

empty

empty

I got news from the dude in NYC - he got his big break. CEO of a new company. He's starting at 85 000. He's going to pick up his company car on Friday. A Mercedes. He's leaving to go to Peru Tuesday for two weeks, then off to Vegas and California - 2 weeks each in November
For business.

He was at the 2007 show last week. Another high profile event the week before.

I could not be happier for him.
He really honest to God deserves it.
I told him to remember me when he's rich and famous...

We both laughed
but I died a little inside.

I am so close to giving it all up - all the dreams and visions of a wonderful life. I've waited, and waiting now is too painful. I feel as if I must resign to a mundane quiet boring existence in order to keep myself alive. I can't reach for the stars anymore. I feel as if I have to let go of all those dreams because reality is here - slapping me in the face, kicking me in the head.

And it hurts so much. The man says he understands, but I know his dreams died a long time ago. I have an extra 20 years of hope I have to work off. It's not easy to let go of those things - the older you get, the stronger they become your lifeline - reason to live.
For you, it was to have a family, finish your film.

For me?
My dreams have become a trivial antidote to a sad and crumbling existence. And what I'm holding on to, as my body begins to withdraw and brain spirals into a free fall, I wonder how long I can last.

Those scars from my breakdown are becoming irritated again - as if to remind me, perhaps you'll be more successful this time, that slipping away won't be as painful, but will seem more like a kinder gentler option.

I am starting to crumble, and I have never felt so alone in decades. And it's freaking the fuck out of me.

I don't know what to do,
or
if I should do anything anymore...

letter to a friend - Saturday night - October 7th, 2006

Ciao bella.
How are you doing?How is baby and pappy?
Did you get the cd? Likey da pictures? You must be swamped with people wanting to see baby, your parents coming from out of town, man's best friend conducting a pagan ceremony by the glow of the full moon.

I hope you are keeping rested.

I'm struggling.
Lots of struggling.

Working 9 to 5 in a really "officized" acedemic job is taking its toll on me. It's wearing away at my spirit and creativity.

I mourn the loss of my joy for photography and life in general.


My health is worsening. I've been blocked up for so long now. Tried everything. Going through withdrawal of the effexor, while going on two new meds for my IBS (stomach/bowel problems).

I hate this: one med traded in for another.

Fuck.

But I keep it inside, trying to stay afloat, looking at my mother and marvelling at her beauty, how strong she has become, and wonder if I would be as courageous as she if the tables were turned.

Going with E's parents 2mrw, then my mom's on Monday.
I sleep lots in between.

Every motion of a shutting eyelid brings dreams of plane crashes and dead people everywhere.

Terrifying dreams.

I watch myself watching jumbo jet engines passing within a hair of my bedroom window, and ask myself:

'what will be next?"

Be Aware this week

Read this and become aware. Every word counts.

Not a very good Monday...

I got back from the doctor not long ago.

He is really not happy about taking me off the effexor to try the prozac again. I spent about 20 minutes with him, trying to explain that what i'm feeling is not 'normal' and life in a shade/haze of greys is not "living"

"well, maybe, have you thought that perhaps, this is the way most people feel most of the time? That this might be their 'normal' ?"

I almost wrung his neck.
- "does your life consist of shades of grey - formless forms, bland and banal moments of existence?"

he paused without saying a word.

made that bastard think

"well, for me doc - this ain't living - not even existing. I'm a body living in a shell of a former me. I'm not even living, just there..."

he wil be taking me off the effexor - by the end of the month I'll be off.
I'm going to have horrible side effects - he warned me, and I know them all too well. It's not going to be pretty.

The shocks that run from the top of my head to the back of my brain - slicing a neuro bolt through my brain, the night sweats, tremors, nausea, hallunications, ringing in the ears, the fear, the paranoia.

According to Wyeth-Ayerst, the manufacturer of effexor and effexor xr, 35% of the Effexor patients experienced withdrawal symptoms ranging from a flu-like syndrome to insomnia, nausea, nervousness, and loss of energy.

Also, from the FDA medical products reporting program, the list of withdrawal symptoms from effexor include:

agitation, anorexia, anxiety, confusion, coordination impaired, diarrhea, dizziness, dry mouth, dysphoric mood, fasciculation, fatigue, headaches, hypomania, insomnia, nausea, nervousness, nightmares, sensory disturbances (including shock-like electrical sensations), somnolence, sweating, tremor, vertigo, and vomiting.

One more common effect not mentioned above is long term vision

I don't know how this is going to play out. I know what happened before med/mood wise - I know exactly what my body will do - but now accelerated. I am pretty worried.
This might be the crash and burn I was worried about.
But I have to do something.
Something is better than nothing - why stay on medication that has stopped working for me?
But then again, at what cost the change?
I am going to see the acupuncture guy - hope that his magic pins and needles will help. But I might have to take time off work -
might...

I know - 'take it when it comes.. deal with it when it happens" but I've been through this so many times before, I can't help but try to be prepared for what I know that 98% of what I forsee will happen will actually happen...

Oh boy.

That's not to mention the Abdominal ct scan that I'll need. Back to my gastroentorologist about my stomach and intestinal problems, the special blood tests/fasting for all those special things my GP is testing for, including cervical cancer...

oh boy.

Not a fun day for a monday...

Morning

Morning
Originally uploaded by The Conspirators.

Yes, many of my mornings should look like this, but my distaste for 90 proof before noon keeps me from falling into this kind of despair...

Still struggling but not sinking.

Still struggling, but not sinking too much...

found out more information about bankruptcy - so many things to think about. I don't have the energy or time to soak my brain in that administrative deluge of numbers and subsections of laws.

I just try to wake up tomorrow and tomorrow.

I saw this in my email box.
It occasionally rings a bell, touches a nerve and brings home some very important truths.

After hearing my grandmother (bless her soul - she's 85 and is losing her memory) tell me that a career in administrative office work was an intelligent choice over pursuing my dream of photography and film, I am having second thoughts about having second thoughts about giving up.

(wim - this is for you too. I send you intercontinental love and support :-))))

desperate letter to a friend

I am in so much trouble.
I got the update for my student loan.
$30 000

not including my other cards - $10 000

I can't get rid of my student loan because I have to wait 10 years after being a full time or part time student 2001 - that means I would have to wait another 4 years - 2011.

I will be 43

and even at that, I am not guaranteed that they will say okay.
I just met with Legal Aid here at my new place of employment.

They told me that they will liquidate my assets.
And if I don't have anything, the will be able to seize my furniture,and clothes.

I am so sick and upset, I am about to throw up.
I have to do a fucken shoot tonight for a friend. I'm not getting paid, but at this point, I need to do it to keep me from slipping deep.

I'm halfway there.

I'm considering going back on lithium - big dose. At least I will be numb, and not have the floor of hell scraping doomsday scenarios that I'm having now.

I've been there before - and God, I know it's coming. My body is shutting down and I am expending all my energies and sanity just to wake me up in the morning.

I have no more drive, and at this point, either way, I'm fucked.
I fear being
debt - going to be in my mid 40's without any savings, tax breaks - nothing.
No child. No husband. No collateral, no money.


I think my only thing to do now is pray like a motherfucker, and write to as many venture capitalists and famous movie stars that have had near misses in their careers because of manic depressive illness.

Maybe someone will see their past life in me - and reach out


I can't shake this girl.
This was the straw that broke the camel's back.

i cant even get money for back child support that my father claimed on his income tax years ago. My mom made an approximate calculation. We were looking at something like 25 000$. But according to the law, if 10 years have passed since the last payment, I can't do anything.

He is on his fucken $200 000 boat and laughing. Him and his fucken greedy wife.

they will never change.

I am so tired - in spirit and mind.
I know you know what I mean, but as we get older, the lows get deeper and sometimes, it's just too much essential life blood spilt to get out.

My other option? Marry an American, move to the US and say "fuck you Canada' .

I'm sorry girl. I hate to dump.

And please, please please, no hard hitting Scandinavian boot camp talk.
I know you're itching to - and will use your strengths and success with overcoming adversity to make a point to me, but honey, it would just fall on bruised and bleeding ears, and a soul that shrinks with every breath....

Here I am - one of the walking wounded.

One of the walking wounded
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty.

Bruised and bloodied - I am unable to stand for long periods of time without falling over.

And so I must rest.
I must rest...

It's not that funny anymore

I am sliding into a deep something - have not figured it out yet, but it ain't a joyous and or rapturous moment. I think I might be hitting a deeper shade of burn-out and despair.

And this one scares the shit out of me.

My mind mobile is hydroplaning on a rainy day - tears from my eyes and the storm in my head are making cognitive navigation very difficult.

My hindsight is myopic and I'm running on fumes but can't refuel cause gas is at a premium these days.

Conservation exasperation
God deliver me from this mess I have created of my life
Give me the strength to go on...

My best friend gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, with her beautiful darling man, and now they are living the beautiful happy family life.

I got a job - full time at least until December - clerical work that numbs the mind - neurons have begun to snap from the extreme cold of boredom

I am exhausted - running, running but never being able to climb up and out of this darkness.
The hill keeps on moving up - the incline increases. Just when I think I have caught my breath, I am forced to move again. My legs are shaking, but the blood is leaking from my toes, and fingertips.

And the latest tally is 30 000$ on my student loan.
I initially owed 17000$ but there was more than 12000$ in interest.
How fucked is that!?

And even if I want to declare bankruptcy, my debt would not be wiped out.

I'm almost 40, have nothing more than 1000$ in a retired savings plan, and a camera.
they can't take blood from a stone?!

They want to, and they will stop at nothing to try.

I am so afraid of what is going to come next.
I'm tired of hearing people tell me well, you know, it's all a lesson learned, and what doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger...

Well, it may not kill me now, but it will catch up to me.
It happened to my mom - and now she has cancer.

I dread that I'm next.

I am losing my memory in the lint filled deep pockets of time. I don't even want to eat but the enigma called a stomach keeps growing and growing - a mind/body/stomach of it's own.
it has become my bastard child

and my mind has become the other who never quite made it out of the womb - a mental defect, retarded - slowed down - suspended animation within an instant of fear.

I'm slipping and I really honestly don't know how long I can hang on this time.

this time...

congratulations!

congratulations!
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty.

I keep on forgetting how amazing babies are - so perfect in every way. Skin so soft, eyes so blue, tiny fingers and hands with teeny tiny nails so delicate.

Here, my best friend and her sweetheard hold their newborn baby - only a day old.

How could I NOT post a photo like this?!?!?

Lacrimosa - her tears - Montreal - a city mourns

lacrimosa - her tears - Montreal - a city mourns
Originally uploaded by hellophotokitty.

My dedication to a city in mourning.

A sad day in the city

Yesterday, 20 people were injured after a lone gunman opened fire, killing one person at a college in downtown Montreal. I was about a 10 minute walk away from the scene. I was sitting outside on a university campus, eating my lunch when a girl walked over to her friend and said: did you hear? There's been a shooting at Dawson!
The other replied: What movie was it?
Shocked, the girl paused and then replied: It was shooting shooting - as in bang bang shooting! Apparently, one of my friends who works nearby said he saw a girl running down the street, hysterical screaming "He's got a gun, and there's blood everywhere!"

I sat there, trying to mind my own business, but perhaps the loud thud as my heart sank to my stomach was not as quiet as I thought.

I had been a student at that particular campus for 3 years as a night student in photography. I would often go during the day to print some of my pictures.

I was thinking of going back to the labs during the day to catch up some images I wanted to hand print.

I could have been there when it happened.

That shook me to the core of my very being...

I remember on December 6th, 1989 standing on the street downtown and hearing the sirens wailing - so many. A symphony of screams and explosions of lights.
I felt like something terrible had happened.
I knew it was something to do with death - many many people.
Blood everywhere.

I felt it in my gut.

When I found out that Marc Lepin had shot 13 women at the Ecole Polytechnique, I cried.

how could this happen?

We still don't know the answers.

And can't answer those questions about yesterday either.

My prayers and condolences go out to the families and victims of this terrible tragedy...

it is a sad day in the city...

Inner Vision

Inner Vision
Originally uploaded by Unbridled Expression (tm).

Sometimes turning inside towards yourself is the best way to find answers. I've been trying to waddle through a backload of mental shit and emotional debris latley. I'm on a cleaning binge. Perhaps I'll get some much needed order in my so-called chaos...