colonel_osborne

On Saturday I went to visit a new doctor. She is unique in the fact that she used to be a he, and only deals with trangender issues. She is probably the coolest doctor I have ever been to, and she actually listened to me and didn't think I was imagining my cramps and other issues I was having. We talked for a bit, I told her my concerns and she gave her opinions and suggestions and ideas and without telling me what to do, gently nudged me in a direction that I think is really the best thing for my all-around health. I am going to stop taking hormones, which is a major big deal for a transman. But, when you think about it, it won't change ME. I will still be Billy, only without the high blood pressure, cramps and horrible depression. Oh by the way, if you know any transman who is taking T and is bipolar, let them know that it interferes with the way that Depakote works...yeah...a little something I was not made aware of by my previous doctor.

SO...big step? Yes. Will it help? I certainly hope so. Will I be able to live without T? I certainly hope so. Will Billy's dreaded monthly curse return with a vengeance or has it stopped completely? Stay tuned and find out!

I am so fed up. Fed up with so many things I can't even begin to list them here. The thing that is at the forefront of my depressive state today is a conversation I had with my doctor today. I was trying to explain to him about the cramping I have been having. Not a good thing for a transman. He should know that, but then again he works at a meth clinic. He has always had his suspicions that my cramps were figments of my imagination. What a fucking GUY thing huh? Well I KNOW cramps, did that for YEARS pal. These are not my imagination. And even if I could imagine something like that, wouldn't I imagine something much more pleasant than the feeling of a hot knife stabbing and twisting my insides? Yeah, think about that. He spent the entire time telling me that I should just feel happy because I was doing good, and don't go and research anything because heck, you're just imagining it all. Stop listening to other transmen because they may have some information? Stop researching something that is affecting my quality of life? He actually asked me if testosterone was an important part of my life. WELL NO FUCKING SHIT!!!! You can produce it on your own asshole, I CAN'T! I NEED these shots. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!! I am so FED UP! Then my therapist has her fucking mantra of "why do you feel like that? it's not a big deal just go with it and try to see the gray area..." I will show her the fucking gray area. Isn't this why people go postal? Because they feel like no one is listening or getting them? I can certainly get people's attention with a fucking .357 but then what? Of course I am not serious, but it sure sounds good right now. Then I could ask my doc while I have the gun barrel in his mouth..."Is breathing an important part of your life??" Yeah I thought so. 

You Sir, have basically taken a shit on your fans. A big steamy dump right on the people who have supported you for years. People who have stood in line to see you, stood for 14 fucking HOURS to see you, only to have you walk by them to talk to the PRESS. FUCK YOU. How do you repay us for helping your career? You make cartoons because they are an easy way to make money. What, you didn't make enough on the two Pirates films? You try to justify your crappy choices by saying, "Actors are always worried about whether or not they will have work or be able to make ends meet..." I think you have PASSED that point long ago. You can pick and choose your roles now, you COULD make movies with a meaning, movies that would really say something. What do you choose? You choose the money and basically tell your fans to suck it. Well you will not get one bit of support from me ever again. Of course you can do what you want...you are not a slave to your fans. But if I recall, we are the ones who put those $6000 suits on your back. Your management is rediculous. Why are they not trying to hook you up with Tarantino or Scorsese or Coppola or Speilberg for fuck sake. Instead they have you doing bullshit voice overs for Bruckheimer (he IS Satan...I am convinced). Thank God they pulled their heads out of their asses long enough to get you to work with Poliakoff again...the only smart move in years.

But maybe you just can't produce anything more than the typical wussy milquetoast loser character that seems to be your forte in life. Maybe you have peaked and it's all commercials and dressing up like a chicken and selling free samples at the mall now. I know I won't pay to see you in some shitty cartoon, and if you even DARE to make ONE MORE 3D MOVIE then it will be more than obvious that you are a total and complete SELL OUT.

I gave Geoffrey Rush a whole ration of shit for saying something that I SPECULATED was about you during the filming of POTC, and I refused to watch any of his movies for a long time. But you know what Bill? HE WAS RIGHT. You need to get over yourself. And hey guess what? Who is winning Tony Awards lately? Not you pal. Got an Emmy Bill? No? Geoffrey Rush does. Got an Oscar Bill? I know who has one, and you can go look at it on Geoffrey Rush's mantle. It's probably hard to see among all of his other awards, but you will find it. Because that is what ACTORS do. They make movies that get awards. Yes, he did a cartoon...but he didn't KEEP DOING THEM FOR THE MONEY!!!! He takes chances, makes movies that may not be in the mainstream, but he fucking ACTS HIS ASS OFF BABY.

Yeah you heard me, you wanker. What happened to you man? You used to be really cool and now you are so full of yourself while trying to seem like you're just a guy out there working. You have surrounded yourself with enablers and sycophants who keep you "safe" from the press or anyone who might "speculate" on your life. Hey honey...you're in the PUBLIC EYE! That is what happens, you big fucking cry baby. Why don't you get over yourself and grow a pair and deal with it like other celebrities. You CHOSE this life, you made it your profession. You don't hear doctors or lawyers crying because they have to see patients or clients. I bet they don't have someone tell their patients, "This is a list of illnesses I won't talk about, and please don't ask me to fill a prescription because I just don't do that." Ugh, your interviews are sickening and pointless and absolute fucking garbage. We have heard the same bullshit WORD FOR WORD for the past, oh, 5 years? You're such a one trick pony anymore. It's disgusting. People will specualte when you give them NOTHING. Why don't you try to be original and actually give something to your fans instead of regurgitating the same insipid crap everytime someone interviews you?

And don't even get me started on your choice of film roles lately. For fuck sake, you are a talented actor. Honestly...CARTOONS? Yeah it was cool when you did "The Magic Roundabout"...that was pretty innovative and cutting edge. Now it's just bullshit. Astroboy? Fucking animated guinea pigs? Are you Jerry Bruckheimer's whore now? Will you do anything he wants as long as there are enough zeroes in the paycheck? At least if you're going to be a man-whore have the decency to finally come out of the goddamn closet.

It makes me vomit to think that there will be a whole new group of "Fans" for you to ply with your BS when the next Harry Potter movie comes out. But believe me, they will figure you out just like I did. You can't keep up the facade forever. You're old and going the way of the dinosaur unless you come to your senses and start making MOVIES again, and stop treating your fans like morons.

Here's a song for you Bill. Enjoy. "Are you motherfuckers ready for the new shit?" I know I am. Let's see if you can deliver Mr. Nighy.

www.youtube.com/watch
Marilyn Manson "This is the New Shit"

Last night I took my kids out for some half-assed mexican food at a local half-assed mexican restaurant. Not a bad idea, and we even got a decent place to sit. At least I thought so at first. Until I met "DANTE". I got to know Dante pretty well by the end of the meal...he was the little snot faced two year old at the next table who naturally could not sit still. What 2 year old can? None that I have ever met. The first point I would like to make is that NO ONE should ever name their kid Dante unless their last name is "Alighieri" and then you can forget it because there was already one and he was WAY more famous than your kid will ever be.

So the night consisted of me listening to what I can assume was the father of this Dante, who was more insufferable than his son. He made it a point to speak VERY LOUDLY and try to sound like such a concerned parent. Pardon me while I puke. All the while he is slipping in shameless self promotion and yakking about how he works at the El Capitan and how he can do this and get that for free. WHOOP DEE FUCKING DO. They were there with the grandparents of the evil one Dante and kept flashing a mother'ucking camera all over the place. Good thing I didn't have epilepsy huh. So when the camera wasn't going off, this is what I heard: "DANTE DON'T TOUCH THAT NO DANTE YOU CAN'T GO IN THERE NO DANTE SIT DOWN AND BE GOOD NO DANTE IF YOU GET UP YOU CAN'T HAVE FOOD NO DANTE DANTE DANTE DANTE DANTE...." And when the food finally arrived for them I thought "Thank Christ, maybe they will choke..." but no it just gave Mr. Asswipe a chance to audition for Father of The Year again with an endless chant of "DON'T TOUCH THAT DANTE NO IT'S HOT IT'S HOT HOT DANTE IT'S HOT DON'T TOUCH DANTE". I thought 'let him touch it and I bet you will never have to tell him NOT to EVER again'. I actually wondered if it was possible to kill someone with a spoon at that point.

Dear God why do parents insist on bringing their young kids to restaurants? Why do you think people used to leave kids at home with a BABYSITTER? Because NO ONE wants to hear your kid screaming and crying when they are trying to enjoy dinner. And it's not the kid's fault, they can't help it. It's the parents who think they are being so fucking awesome by teaching them to behave properly in public. NO. You do that AT HOME first!! Never unleash that kind of shit on the public...it's not fair. And you parents who bring your young children and babies to the movies...oh there is a hot place in hell for YOU my friends. You SUCK! Let me tell you, if I see Dante running up and down the aisle's at MY theater, he's gonna end up doing a Father Karras all the way to the bottom. Brain damage? Sorry, should have thought about it before you let your kid RUN in a dark theater!! This has happened, I kid you not. It was an absolutely amazing display of what I call the "Entitlement Disease" that seems to run rampant in this city. Just because you CAN do something, doesn't mean you SHOULD. They used to have "crying rooms" in theaters back in the good old days, when people actually had manners and consideration for fellow movie-goers. Mother's would take their crying or misbehaving children to a sound proof room where they could watch the movie and not disturb others. What a concept. Now we get Dante. DANTE DON'T TOUCH THAT DANTE DANTE SIT DOWN.

FUCK YOU DANTE.

Why do people insist on shoveling bullshit my way? I got a call this morning from the party disser still trying to make up excuses about not inviting me. And please don't tell me that I misunderstood or it was just a coincidence that this get together happened after you TELL ME ABOUT IT. Finally it comes out: I wasn't invited because I had "threatened" to beat someone up. Ok yes I had said that in passing, but for fuck sake if I was serious about it I know where this guy lives and works and where he hangs out every Wednesday night. If there was any ass kicking going to be done, it would have happened MONTHS ago. And WHY would I start some shit at a party? PUH -LEASE. So after getting me completely pissed off once again, I finally said ENOUGH. No more contact. I want nothing to do with this group of people anymore. I don't need this kind of crap in my life, especially when my mental state is not very stable. And you know what? I'm better off for it. I feel like a weight has been lifted and I can finally move on and leave that shit in the past where it belongs.

So I'm heading to the doc today to probably get back on medication for depression. I am not happy about it, but when I decide to take meds on my own then  you know it's bad. We'll see if going to the clinic actually does me more harm than good, lol. The people there are not the brightest nor the friendliest, and they treat every one with a certain amount of disrespect. I normally last about 10 minutes before I want to go on a bloody rampage. Hopefully today will be better because I am in no mood for any type of fuckery today. I was rudely woken up at 5:30 am by the neighbors yapping dog (who is at the top of my shit list btw...your days are numbered WALDO you fuck) and then at 6:30 the charming leaf blower concerto started. Ah, life in the big city. It really sucks.

Later today I go to see my therapist, who is basically ok but lacks focus which I NEED, because I sure as hell don't have any. Then I don't know what the hell I will do for the rest of the day. Probably wait for the side effects to kick in from the meds I will no doubt be taking.

I have to thank my pal Melissa once again for her hilarious texts last night! OMG you SAVED me from myself, seriously! It was much needed and much appreciated. I still have your emails from your trip to Florida, and they are still as funny as ever! I swear you should write comedy...come to Hollywood! They NEED you, desperately! Or at least have your own talk radio show. Hey...we could do a late night show together because I sure as hell ain't doing a morning one! Me in the morning is so NOT funny. Anyway...you make a difference in my life, just so you know! 

And now I must rant about a text I got yesterday from the person who dissed me and didn't invite me to their party. Yeah, you remember...the one who asked me if I wanted to go and then proceeded to NOT invite me? That one. He left a message telling me he owed me an apology for that, and then he had the NERVE to act like he had no idea why I was upset. So now, he says it's all a misunderstanding and his story gets lamer and more unconvincing with each word he speaks. Basically he is trying to come up with a good enough LIE to A: make himself feel better and B: to make me think it's somehow my problem for being upset about it. Well FUCK THAT. If people can't handle the fact that they acted like pricks, that is NOT my problem. What I have a problem with is people acting like pricks and then trying to justify it by lying or turning it around on the other person. THAT IS SO NOT OK IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM. You blew it, just admit it and then let's move on. But until you admit it, we will not be talking to one another. I do not forgive so easily anymore, nor do I allow people to walk on me anymore. And it seems that some people can't deal with that. Too fucking bad because I am so done with that bullshit ( I almost wrote BILL SHIT, LOL! Same thing I guess!).

And now, I am gonna go eat some Honey Nut Cheerios with vanilla soy milk. Ok it's soy JUICE (thanks a lot for THAT Lewis Black!)

Just saw a picture of the supposed dead body of David Carradine. Yes, morbid curiosity compelled me. If that is indeed him, then he was in pretty good shape for a man of 72, but with his martial arts background I guess it's possible. Oddly enough I saw the picture just a few minutes after I watched a clip of him in a cheesy 80's movie called "Sonny Boy". The odd thing is this: in that clip he seems dressed quite similarly to the alleged death photo. Dark wig, women's clothes, and there is a shot of him in that clip where it shows his legs and the way he is standing really was almost the pose that his body was in in the "death" photo. The legs look like his is all I am saying...and the wig. Who knows. All I know is I am sad it had to take his death for me to get interested in his work again. And now that we know a bit more about his personal life, I think it would have been FASCINATING to meet him in person and chat over lunch. People that are into those things, well, they tend to understand one another very well and not judge each other too harshly. Because let's face it...super freaks need to stick together.


Other than that, I am still on the lower end of low. The shit my so called "friends" pulled the other day didn't help either. Don't tell someone about a party and ask them if they would like to go AND THEN NOT INVITE THEM! That is just not very cricket, especially when I hear about it from someone who stood me up the week before. I have no idea when I caught leprosy, and I don't know why I have been ostracised by my peers. Perhaps because I feel that I don't need to kiss anyone's ass and I tell them to stop being pusscakes and grow a pair? If that's the case, I really don't want to be hanging out with a bunch of ladies who call themselves men. Yeah, ouch. Go put a band-aid on that and think about what you've done.

Wow, it's been a while! I wish I could blame it on my jet-setting life style, but sadly no.

Went in to the clinic for my bi-monthly shot and had a really great conversation with my doc. He's pretty smart sometimes, lol. I confided in him that I felt like an alien in my own body lately. So many things have changed about me, things that I thought would never change. EVER. Example: I have never been attracted to women at all. Maybe I would notice a really beautiful woman, but that was just appreciating the beauty of the human form. Now it's different, and it freaks me the fuck out. I mean, I suppose I could live with being bisexual, but it just came out of left field and I am just not prepared for it.

As my doc pointed out,  no one wrote an instruction manual on being transgender...I am writing my own book. That really made things a bit better for me. It is very disconcerting having your identity change month by month and having your rug pulled out from under you. Yes, I chose this and it's mine to deal with, but I am allowed to be freaked by the whole thing. It doesn't mean that I made the wrong choice. I definitely made the right choice for me. And who knows what kind of man I will become? I have only a vague idea at this point. It's a trip that I don't have much control over as long as I continue to get testosterone injections. If I could pick and choose transition characteristics and results, I definitely would not have checked the box that said: "Back Hair" or "Receeding Hair Line" or "Nose Hair" (I am finding out that hair seems to be a big thing in the male world...for good and bad), but we can't control those results. Neither can we control what our eventual sexual orientation might be. I am finding that, as a MAN, I seem to be attracted to women as well as men now. When I was living as a woman, I never really had those feelings. Now my body is governed by testosterone, and believe me that hormone will not be denied when it talks. I understand why men act the way they do...and ladies it's because they are men. They can't help it. They can try and control their actions and feelings and emotions, and some do very well, but at the core of every man I believe is a very primal animal that reacts instictively. Women do as well, but estrogen is not nearly as...how can I say this without sounding like a total butt munch...overpowering as testosterone. And I should know...I  have experienced both. I say that not with an air of superiority or ego, but with genuine knowledge from having been through the mood swings of PMS, having three children and having cramps every month and bloating and all the bullshit that is hormonally driven. Granted I don't have Aunt Flo visit every month, but the urges and instincts that have replaced that are more intense. I won't go into great detail about sex drives and the differences between men and women, but let me just say that the sex drive is at the forefront of the male psyche. It does take over normal, rational thought and turns us into complete idiots. To use a word that is so completely abused in this world...it's awesome. But not in the Jeff Spicoli "awesome dude" use of the word. It's actually AWEsome. And don't make me have to explain who Jeff Spicoli is. Look him up on youtube, and yes I am giving away my age somewhat when I say I saw that movie when it was released. In a drive in no less.

Most of the stereotypical male attributes that most men would say don't exist...DO. It's what we do with those feelings and instincts that make the difference between a man and a gentleman. There is a certain responsibility that goes along with being male. Not to demean what it is to be a woman, those are equally important, but hold different expectations. When I was living as woman I could walk behind another woman in a dark parking structure and there was a sense of comraderie. Now there is a sense of tension and apprehension, not on my part, but on the woman's part. And with good reason I suppose. Men who don't realise the responsibility that they have are total bastards. We are the protectors, we are the hunters and the providers. But we are also the killers, the rapists and the tyrants. It's up to us what we become.

When I take my son to therapy, we usually stop at the park and feed the squirrels. It's so cool to have a small animal like that trust you enough to come up and take nuts from your hand. But today was especially cool. We got there and did our usual routine...squat down close to the ground and make "the squirrel call", which is basically a fast tongue clicking sound that makes them come a'runnin! Today there was only one lone rodent, and he came from waaaay across the park and right up to us. Then out of nowhere two small black birds with eerie yellow eyes flew down next to us and just stood there...staring at us. We offered them some nuts but they gave us a "how the hell do you expect us to get that in our beaks?" look. So they just hung out with us while we fed the squirrel. It was amazing and creepy at the same time. These birds were not afraid at all. In fact, one was sitting right next to me by my shoe! Just chillin. It's these little things that make life so cool.

Well here it comes again. It happens every year about this time. The call of the sea, like water-logged clock work. It starts with a slight craving for anything rum flavored, the cocking of my head as I hear the ghostly cries of seagulls that don't exist. Then I have to hoist me colors and display my skull & crossbones flag in my house, followed by a viewing of all of the POTC movies culminating in a frenzied trip to Sycamore Cove, drawn like a salmon I MUST make the pilgrimage to my spawning grounds...my ancestral home so to speak, my happy place. The Ocean. All of the happy memories of my childhood center around the ocean. When I was growing up the only place I felt happy and safe was at the beach, almost like I was being protected by some unseen entity. It was the ocean itself though. Nothing could bother me as long as I had that gigantic body of water on my side. The ocean has never hurt me...we have an understanding. I respect her, and she comforts me. I don't think anyone will ever quite understand this feeling, unless you have salt water in your blood. People who have sea faring people in their family tree understand. They feel it, they know the draw and pull of the sea, they know it cannot be denied. You have to answer her when she calls lest ye be driven mad by the constant craving. She's calling me home, and I have to go.

www.youtube.com/watch

So today we are without water and gas since 7am. Not that I haven't had to deal with this situation before. I have been camping ONCE, and I did manage to survive the Northridge earthquake in 1994 when I had to live in a pop up trailer in the parking lot of my apartment complex for about two weeks. Granted we did have water of sorts...the toilets did flush, but we had no hot water. No electricity either for about 3 days. So yeah, it's not that bad considering. Actually it reminds me a bit of the aftermath of the earthquake when we had constant construction going on for about two months. And we had it easy compared to others who had NO home to go back to, or those who didn't make it. But I am a spoiled creature of habit and I rather like being able to go into my loo and use it when I have the need instead of having to go to McDonald's and brave the public toilets. Ew. 

Well, in the end it is proving to be worth it I think. Even though my landlord handed me a rent increase today, we are getting a new stove so I will actually be able to COOK something in the oven for the first time in like 7 years!! No shit. At least that long, I kid you not. I have been using a crock pot or toaster oven or microwave or making soups and stews on top of the one burner that worked on the stove. I feel lucky I didn't have to gather wood and make a fire in the backyard and roast a pig. No, I leave that to my neighbors with the fucking fire pit of doom.

On a lighter, more full tummy note...I had pizza today at one of my favorite places. It's called "Barone's" and it used to be on Ventura Boulevard in a really cool old building that had been around since...oh I wanna say the 40's. Lou Costello of Abbott and Costello fame used to bring his family there to eat. My best friend Julie and I had many fun times there until.... *cue dramatic music*.... they MOVED!!! The "new" Barone's looks a lot like the older one, without the cool vibes though. It's just not the same, although the pizza is still as good as ever. The restaurant that was there before was called "The Matterhorn" and they served German and Swiss foods, and I think I actually had been there once during my childhood. You can still see the hofbrauhaus type of architecture there, which made me crave sausages and cabbage for a split second. Anyway, there is only one place in the valley now that I think you can even get German foods, and it's not even a restaurant, it's a deli. But better that than none at all.

Think I will watch "Valkyrie" now and have some cold pizza and beer. It is the anniversary of D Day after all.

Morons like this make me want to hide from the world. Sure people are entitled to their opinion, even if it's wrong and uninformed and based on hatred and ignorance. I am glad to see that there was such an immediate reaction to their outrageous comments. And I hope to God these morons don't have children, because if they do, Children's Protective Services should come in and make sure they are not being hit with shoes or worse.

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There is something to be said for outhouses. Indoor plumbing is both a blessing and a curse, especially when it has to be replaced and holes are cut into your walls, and there is a coating of drywall dust all over the floors and the smell of soldering and God only knows what. Not to mention my cat is flipping out over the noise, and there are flies in my house (omfg I HATE flies in my house!!!! Have you SEEN the previews for "Drag Me To Hell"??? Shit I don't need that in my life!).

I don't want to see what is inside my walls, and I don't want to know they are open, especially at night when I have to get up to use the bathroom and I have no idea what may have crept it's way into my home. I may as well use an outhouse! If I go by the time table that the "plumbers" gave me, I have another week and a half of this nonsense, and they haven't even begun digging the sewer trench. *Sigh* So once they destroy my walls, they will have to patch it up and paint and omg i am going to have a panic attack I swear.

You made me come back. Your begging and crying worked ok? Fine! You are such a tart.

Yes, I voted for Obama. As in every election I choose who I think will be the lesser of two evils, because no matter how much this country wants to think that Barack is our messiah, he had to kiss some ass and perhaps suck a few dicks to get where he is today. EVERY politician has to bend over and get reamed at least once or twice, so he's no squeaky-clean choir boy I'm sure. But considering the options we had, I thought it was at least best to go with the guy who wouldn't drag us into a nuclear war with North Korea. We will get there soon enough with the way Pajama Boy is losing his marbles.

Ok, to the point of my posting. Obama's choice for Supreme Court Justice. Let me throw a scenario at you and see what you think. Say he had chosen a caucasian male, and say that male had been a member of a white supremacist organization in his past, something not even as radical as the National Socialist movement here, or even the K.K.K. Something that was an organization for say, people of Northern European descent...and those people ONLY. Suppose you throw in some references to being proud of your heritage and wanting to preserve the history of your people. Let me ask you, would that fly? HELL NO. Not even if it were the most innocent of groups, meeting once a week to discuss geneaology would it ever get past the ACLU, NAACP, JDL or any other organization bent on making being caucasian in itself a fucking hate crime. So this woman that Obama picked is a member or has been a member of LA RAZA. Do you people even know what the fuck they are all about? There was a big stink here in Los Angeles over a school funded by LA RAZA, it only accepted children who were hispanic and all they taught was how one day they were going to take back California by any means necessary, legal or not. A reporter tried to gain access to the school to report on their activities. You know what happened? He was threatened with death. Let me just say that if any organization in this country that had a strictly white membership had done anything like that, it would no longer exist. You can't even have Irish Pride celebrations anymore without someone saying it's a Neo Nazi Rally. Sodomayer has some skeletons in her closet and I say let's shake them out before we put her in a position of authority. Give her the same scrutiny that you would a caucasian man in the same circumstance. Let's be just as critical of her racist background as we would anyone else, and not give her some sort of leniancy just because she is hispanic and female. 

www.worldnetdaily.com/index.php

Yeah I deactivated my Facebook account, big whoop, wanna fight about it? I don't have time or energy to check it and besides I think it allows people to be less social and more rude. I can do that in person, thank you very much! What has facebook done for me anyway? I think it's a greedy bastard who just takes, takes, takes and gives nothing in return. Like a tribble. Do I need to know what someone is doing every minute of the day? No. If I actually cared I would call that person and TALK to them. OOOOH what a concept!! A device that allows people to speak directly to one another! Technology is amazing isn't it?

Plus, it seems that I have been placed on some sort of Trans black list, which is kind of cool in a way, but leaves me wondering what the fuck I did to piss people off. Oh wait, you mean I was actually HAPPY with myself and not wanting to tout my transness to everyone in the fucking world? Oh sorry for being comfortable with my life. I forgot that we are supposed to suffer endlessly and whine like there is no tomorrow about how put upon and discriminated against we are. You wanna know how many times I have been harassed and/or discriminated against becaue I am trans? NONE! ZERO! NADA! So put away your hankies, you big fucking babies and grow a pair.

Anyone who has been diagnosed with Bipolar disorder knows what I mean. I went from being in a pretty darn good mood earlier today to this point where I am thinking death is a pretty good option. Add to that a sense of total irritability and way too much energy and you have yourself a real shit sandwich. Yeah I have heard about the wonders of medication for this affliction, and have taken so many different drugs for it that I went through a period where I wasn't sure what I was feeling. I was a mess of side-effects and wrong doses and "let's try this one instead of that and see what happens". Yes, we are human guinea pigs. There was a time when I was doing pretty good on a certain combination of anti-depressants and mood stabilizers, but the thing about being bipolar is when you start to feel good, you say fuck it to the meds. At least I do. I have a real aversion to taking medication for that. I will gladly take my blood pressure medication or take Motrin for a headache, but I will be damned if I will take something for my moods. Part of it is my denial of my condition. If I could SEE my brain, and someone could point to something and say, "See, this is what is wrong with your head..." I would believe it. I can see blood pressure readings, I know when I have a headache, and I know that if I get bronchitis antibiotics can help. But I can't SEE my stupid malfunctioning synapses! It has been the undoing of a few of my therapists, who told me they could not treat me because I was refusing to take my medication. I am difficult, I know that...I actually sort of revel in that part of me. But it is a form of self-destruction, which I am also highly skilled at. People who are bipolar don't want to give up the feeling of being manic...at least until it gets to the point of wanting to punch a hole in the wall and throw yourself into the shark tank just to stop the noise in your head. We also know that the terrible black pit of depression is just around the corner when we are manic. We can see it coming, like the apex of a rollercoaster...you know that once you hit the top, the only way is down. FAST. It's a horrible paradox. When I am manic, I am full of creativity, energy and big damn ideas. I clean my house like a fiend, I stay up too late, I buy things impulsively, I meet up with strangers and engage in dangerous behaviours. Why? Because I have to. We who are manic are compelled to MOVE...to act...to create and to destroy, usually ourselves. But some of us have children and families who we take along for the ride. It's not that we WANT anyone coming along with us, they just happen to be innocent victims of our madness. I am sorry for putting my family through so much bullshit. I am sorry for my tantrums, for my unpredictable moodswings, for checking out of reality for extended periods of time, for being irresponsible and not being able to stop it. I want them to understand, but I hope they never really know what it's like.

Today I am running...at least in my mind. Running from the depression that I can feel lurking just on the border of my mania. I know you're there, but you have to catch me first. There is a song by Ween called "Happy Colored Marbles" and if my bipolar disorder had a theme song, I think that would be pretty close.

So, we took a wonderful trip to the E.R. today...my son and I. His stomach was really hurting so I thought "fuck this shit" and I took him in. I wanted some damn answers. We get in relatively quickly, so I had hope that we would not be spending the majority of the day there. WRONG. He gets poked and prodded and we wait in a room that seemed really awesome compared to what it used to be. There are actual televisions by each bed and you can watch almost 10 whole channels and only one is in Spanish! Then all of a sudden I smell something. At first I was not alarmed, hospitals have certain "smells", but this was no ordinary hospital smell. This smelled like ass. Worse than ass. It smelled like a dead baboon's ass that had been rotting in the sun for about a week on a beach somewhere really HOT. I think to myself, ok...well...maybe they will get rid of the smell. So for what seemed like an eternity, I endure this smell. I get to the point where I have to leave the room a few times or puke. Then, for some reason a nurse comes by and says to me, "I don't know how to say this without sounding rude, but your son NEEDS to cover up his feet." It takes a few moments for this to sink in. Then I lose it. I take the obligatory sniff of my son's socks...he had put on clean ones before we left. Yes, they were fine. Then I remember in the bed next to us, some dude who was snoring had kicked his boots off...

I found the nurse and told her, loudly,  that my son's feet did not stink. It was someone else in the room who fucking reeked. Sure enough she comes back in and almost passes out when she checks on the guy, who turns out to be some homelss dude who must have needed a place to sleep it off. Let me tell you I have never seen shit happen so fast. Some male nurse came in and wheeled that guy out into the hall and then out of nowhere it was like a HAZMAT team descended on the room. Air freshener was sprayed in abundance, fans and disinfectant filled the room enmasse. My son's socks indeed. This smelled like a baboons ASS!!! This was biological warfare on my nostrils. I am surprised the fire sprinklers didn't turn on when that stinky  bastard dropped his boots.

She apoligised at least three times. To me, it wasn't enough. She should have found the source of the foul odor before blaming my son for gassing the E.R. I was happy when her shift ended.

All turned out ok in the end. We finally found a name for what my son has, but fuck me if I can spell it. Basically it's a viral infection in his lymph nodes in his stomach. No cure, no meds...just time and hopefully it will heal itself. I am not holding my breath...I did enough of that in the E.R. today.

I just read a facebook post on one of my soon-to-be-deleted friends page. A lesbian wrote that she finds the queer community "incestuous and overly dramatic". OK lesbo, I really hope you were kidding. Actually I find the lesbian community angry, full of self hatred and criticism, loud, obnoxious and tasteless, and full of women who do nothing but bash men even though secretly they want to be a man. So instead of posting your garbage and ignorant comments, do something that you claim you do more than a man. THINK.