just suck it

thank god that shit is over. my grandpa died on x-mas day, which is also the anniversary of my grandmother's death. fun times.

fuck you, you fucking fuck

i am so sick to death of giving a shit about the wrong things.


so here's a picture of my tits.

i smell like a candy cane

i just had an amazing bath. i got really nice and stoned, put on some neko case, and had a luxurious soak in bubbly water that was almost too hot to handle. fuck yeah. and then i rubbed peppermint foot lotion all over my body. i'm all crazy feeling now. it's great.

i babysat my niece and nephew this past weekend. it was kind of fun, until my nephew busted out some hardcore shit on his rollerblades, then it got transcendent. we were in the basement and he was tooling around in his rollerblades, shooting pucks and practicing his hockey moves. we were listening to music on the computer, just run of the mill stuff my brother and his wife collected. then madonna's "hung up" came on, and ben threw down his hockey stick and pushed the goal nets out of the way. he grabbed a baton and improvised a fucking killer rollerblade dancing, baton twirling extravaganza. he's only 6, so he has this great unselfconsciousness when he really gets into things. kristen and i danced around and jumped on the couch. it was awesome. unfortunately, kristen got sick and i spent all night helping her puke and watching late night tv. she was a trooper though, especially through saturday night live, which was so unfunny, we watched a rerun of in living color.

just as boring as you

i'm sick again. that's what i get for healthy living. and i get to spend the weekend with my family. boy oh boy, things are looking up. i hope my niece and nephew "behave" for me when i babysit them tomorrow night. my already tenuous patience for children will be compromised by a sinus cold. i'm going to bake a shitload of cookies with my mom tomorrow, and hopefully she "behaves" too.

i keep getting these phone calls, like at least 2 or 3 times a day from a long distance number that is totally unfamiliar to me. they never leave a message, and i'm dying to know who it is, but i refuse to answer any numbers i don't recognize. it's almost pathological, and i guess i could very easily clear up the mystery by just answering the phone. it's probably a telemarketer. maybe i can look up the number online. hmmm.

yeah. i really can't much more boring than this, so i'll just cut it short for today.

high times

i'm managing to avoid the insanity of x-mas so far. i'm not buying anybody anything, everybody is getting cookies that i'm going to bake with my mom next weekend. i do like the x-mas light displays, though. i find them comforting and pretty. i wish people did that kind of thing all year round. my friend heather is coming for a visit from toronto and i plan to spend a lot of time with her partying our faces off. i know we can find some trouble to get into. last year i spent x-mas eve in a hotel room with my boyfriend doing coke and watching porn. it sounds totally trashy and possibly sad depending on who you are, but i like a bit of trash and it was totally hot. this year i will likely spend x-mas eve with my family. not as much fun for sure, but we all have to make sacrifices sometimes. maybe i'll take some drugs anyway. no one has to know, and it's fun to be secretly high.

shut up, hole

my dad and i took my mom shopping for clothes today. my mom is both hilarious and infuriating. she has cancer, and during the course of her treatment complications arose which affected her mind. her memory and perception of reality have been, shall we say, compromised. anyway, she is easily tired and frightened, especially when there are lots of people around. we were trying to get her to try on some clothes and she started getting really bitchy, saying things like, "well, you don't have to kiss her ass. she's a shopgirl and she's supposed to kiss your ass." it's embarassing and hysterically funny. the best was when she called my cousin a "pricky weasel." my dad bought me toilet paper and dental floss as a thank you. bonus. i made sure to get extra soft royale tp, not that scratchy, one-ply welfare butt torture that looks like a good deal, but makes you cry yourself to sleep. or something.

so, the transition to regina has hit a low. i'm a bit depressed now that the novelty of being here has worn off. feeling at bit stuck and scared of various things that haven't bothered me for awhile. but, i think i'm on the way to getting it under control for the most part. i just got back from the gym, and i'm actually going out to socialize with people tonight. yay for me.

here come the pizza

you know what i like to think? whenever i see an rbc financial commercial on tv, you know, the ones that are "narrated" by donald sutherland, i think about this one time, at the beginning of my employment at the cibc call centre when i got a call from donald sutherland. his name, his voice, totally unmistakable. the call did not go well. nothing horrible or anything. in fact i can't really remember any details, except that mr. sutherland seemed very confused and kind of weirded out. this was probably because i was new, and truthfully, not very suited for that type of work. anyway, i like to think that because of that experience, donald sutherland stopped banking with cibc and moved over to rbc, for whom he now also does voice-over endorsements. who knows.

jesus gives me chocolate

i nearly had a nervous breakdown last night (again.) yesterday was the first day of my cleanse, which basically means i'm only eating a limited selection of fruits, vegetables, protein and whole grains. no dairy, no salt, no sugar, no bread or pasta. ummmm, so basically i can't eat anything that i normally do. and holy fuck, after 5 pm, i basically started chain smoking and calling various people to complain about the astounding discomfort i was experiencing. i had to restrain myself from eating a package of cough drops left over from when i was sick. i was shaking. i was not able to concentrate on anything other than how goddamn hungry i felt, and how robin's donuts is just a few easy steps away from my front door. and then i remembered the chocolates in my freezer.

well, fuck. from 7pm until 10pm, all i thought about was how shitty i would feel if i ate them, how weak and pathetic i would feel if i couldn't eat sugar or fat for one measly day. it was serious internal conflict, serious jonesing. at 10:01pm i ate every single chocolate left in the box, and then i passed out.

on the upside, i had very pleasant dreams about being at parties with lots of cute, scruffy boys who all wanted to talk to me. i woke up without the waves of self loathing i had expected. i continued my cleansing regimen and joined the gym at the ywca and had an all round productive day. but now night has fallen once again, and i am fucking dying of sugar, fat, starch, etc. cravings. i am hungry. 10 glasses of water a day do not help fill you up, no matter what they say. god. and being a habitual pot smoker does not help.

technically, i'm not supposed to be smoking anything during this cleanse, but for christsake, i need something to keep me from licking jam residue from the inside of the fridge. or killing someone. so, i think tonight i'm going to smoke a bowl and try and deal with it until i can't, then i'm going to take a few sleeping pills (don't worry, they're "natural source") and sleep the pain away.

he was cooler then

i was attacked by art the other night. i was in some sort of weird feverish sickly half sleep and a large piece of art that my friend shaeya made detached from the wall above my bed and tried to smother me. i jumped up, seriously alarmed and confused by the sudden papery darkness and noise, and i must have knocked another canvas off the wall, because a large portrait painted by jason was hurting me in some vague way. i managed to defend myself with some indiscriminate flailing. is art trying to tell me something? like, stop being apathetic or you're going to get killed by art? or maybe art hates me because i'm beautiful. it could go either way, i guess.

as for my sickness, it's hanging on like a coked out tranny at an afterhours party. i guess it doesn't help that i insist on smoking cigarettes and pot for "medicinal purposes." well, i'm turning a new leaf on monday. i'm going to go on a cleanse and hopefully get rid of excess toxins and bowel sediment. should be a good time. i'm also going to suck it up and join a gym (again.) i figure it's time to spend my non-hard earned money on "good" things and not "bad" things like chips and ice cream. we'll see how that goes.
by the way, does anyone know where i can get a decent job that pays a lot of money and allows me to utilize my creative talents in a non-stressful environment? yeah, i didn't think so.

maybe it's time for a shower. my mouth hurts from sea salt and vinegar chips and it's not even noon. food addiction is a bitter mistress. maybe art was trying to warn me to change my ways before it's too late. but the thing is, i'm one of those people who likes to think it's never too late, so i just keep on keeping on, you know? it's a vicious, entertaining cycle. i spend a lot of time trying to break it, with varying results. also highly entertaining. ho hum. maybe something spectacular will happen today. it makes me feel better that "spectaculariness" is just as possible as boredom.

the sickness

i got back from whitehorse yesterday. there's a blizzard happening right now in regina that everyone seems to be freaking out about, but after -40 c (without windchill) i feel pretty indifferent to the weather here.

whitehorse is for: drinking, sex, parties, coke and porn.

regina is for: smoking pot, sitting in front of the computer, staying away from people

environment really does make a difference.

i've got some great pictures from my trip, but i'm too sick to care about posting them right now. but i have to say that it probably was kind of weird to go back after less than 2 months, but it was interesting to compare my lifestyle between regina and whitehorse. will discuss later. i must get trashed on "hot toddies" and nyquil now.

it's a gas

so i've got this interview today for a position as a "health and nutrition specialist" at a retail herbal weight loss centre. i think a pie and cake addict with a mean smoking habit would be a great guiding light for the obese. but, i really think i'm punishing myself for gaining 20 pounds in the last two months. i guess i need to start doing coke again. . .

i'm leaving for whitehorse tomorrow night/wednesday morning. i can hardly wait, so of course, i keep thinking something is going to go wrong. like, the bus to calgary will break down and i'll miss my flight. or better yet, i'll have seriously and stupidly miscalculated my travel plans somehow and miss my connections. or all my money will mysteriously disappear. well, that's already kind of happened, and it's really no great mystery.

sweet sweet love

aww. all those unborn victims. thank god they have the supernatural freaky eyes of mary to watch over them in fetus heaven. it's great to be back in saskatchewan.

i remember this one time, i was in my car on the corner of 13th and broad, and i almost drove into a young mother and her tiny sweet baby because i was too distracted by a man with a gigantic photo of an aborted fetus. he was standing on the corner of the parking lot of 7-11, which was apparently the fashionable hang out for proselytizing pro-lifers in regina at the time. i thought it was ingenious to draw attention to the sacred preciousness of life by causing traffic accidents with a giant fetus. he was also yelling his message at passing vehicles. unfortunately, his message was lost to the driving public because his giant aborted fetus kept blowing around at dangerous, extreme paper cut angles, seriously endangering the extremities of pedestrian victims. that's pedestrian victims of a giant fetus, remember. what about them?

i see you

so i'm sitting at the dining room table, eating my apple cinnamon pancakes, reading the paper, minding my own business, when i hear this horrible banging noise in my bathroom. the carpenter next door hammered his way into my apartment via the "medicine" cabinet over the sink. i say "medicine" because my medicine cabinet consists mainly of anti-aging creams and feminine hygiene products. i keep the good stuff in the kitchen where it is safe from bathroom intruders. so now i can chat with the next door neighbour while i'm on the can or taking shower. if i say something that i feel needs visual emphasis, i just open the medicine cabinet door, and like magic, there i am in the neighbour's bathroom. and vice versa. ingenious.

thank god i'll be in whitehorse next week.

book door

i think everyone should have the opportunity to be unemployed for an extended period of time. it's done wonders for me. for example, today i woke up at 9:30, ground some fresh coffee beans, made coffee, had half a grapefruit, ate some raisin bran, and got so fucking stoned i can't even believe i'm typing right now. it's great. now i'm making wild rice for lunch. i'm going to put carrots and almonds in it. and a little bit of cinnamon.

i cam e up with a great idea dor a book last night. it's called the bitches of coronation street. or the coronation street bitches. i can't decide which one i like better, but right now i'm leaning toward the former. because there are some mean bitches on coronation street. mouthy little trollops, the lot of them. and i think these ladies deserve a good study. the first chapter could be titled "who's a bigger fucking turd than tracy?" it could be a comparitive study of all round shittiness. and so on. i think it's a good idea.

i can't stop laughing right now. i think i'm so funny.

i like to eat creeps

i also heard my downstairs neighbour talking on the phone while taking a crap. i was delicately peeing and flipping through a magazine when i heard this offensive activity going on below me. it was like we were in the same room. gross. it also means that he can likely hear my bathroom activities. i'll have to be more discrete when i'm slapping my meat flaps in the tub. ha ha ha. gross.

pie hole

i was visiting my mom at the hospital a few weeks ago, and her doctor stopped by for a routine physical exam. i met him about 5 or 6 years ago when my parents set up an appointment for me. it wasn't a regular doctor's appointment-- he "counseled" me on the dangers of drug addicts. my boyfriend at the time had just stolen every penny i had. he emptied both my bank accounts after he stole my atm cards. i was devastated, and my parents wanted to help. anyway, i haven't seen him since. so he didn't recognize me right away, and then he said, "wow. you look so much better than when i last saw you. did your parents pay for plastic surgery?" really tactful, assface. it was a pretty funny thing to say, though. i just said i was aging well and gave him a smirky "fuck off old man" look. it's funny when people don't censor themselves at all.

mysterious shoe

so i'm thinking about taking a little trip back to whitehorse for a visit in the near future. maybe not the most practical idea, but i once bought a $1500 cruise i never took, so, you know, at least i'd be getting something for my money this time. like a chance to spend some hot bedroom time with the sexiest man ever. and see my other friends, who miss me terribly. they do. i'm not just saying that. and i miss them too. and i'm not working, so i've got time. but then, i get all wigged out a bit because i think i should be working, and i should be saving my money and i should be a perfect human being, and , and, and


so should i go? i will have some financial assistance, but i'm still having a hard time justifying the expense. hmmmm. . .

grimtown

oohh, i hate that tracy. i can't believe she left her little amy to go live with charlie the psycho. she's the shittiest person on coronation street. she's even worse than the husband- murdering vicar.



i'm "drawing a bath" right now. i love the big old clawfoot tub in my apartment, but it kind of makes me nervous. i keep thinking the tub is going to crash through the floor into the apartment below me. there's probably a lot of rotten wood and unstable other things between me and the guy downstairs, especially since i already flooded his bathroom with my wanton showering habits. but, damn it, i deserve a bath. even if it demolishes the building. i had a hard day! well, not really. but i did have a productive day and that means i get to eat ice cream and masturbate in the tub. those is the rules around this house, bitches.



after my bath, i'm going to get really stoned and watch eraserhead. i haven't seen that in years. after that, i'm going to read a book and wait for my man to call. it's so great being a girl! it's also great being unemployed.

can you smell me?

yesterday, when i was having a shower, i heard a man's voice in my apartment. for a second i thought it was the radio, but it turns out there actually was a real, live man trying to get my attention. it was the building owner. he was having a bit of a freak out because apparently all the water i was using in the shower was going directly into the bathroom below me. the ceiling tiles caved in and everything. so now i have to wait for the plumber before i can shower again. i'm all stinky and greasy, so i'm using this as an excuse to not leave my apartment or do any work on my course because i "can't concentrate" when i smell. so i'm going to smoke a bowl and do some paint-by-numbers instead of being a responsible adult.

the power of theatre

i just saw the laramie project at the university. it was good-- i even cried a bit. but i had the worst gas, and i had to keep my fart in because there were people i didn't know sitting around me. as a result, the gas was trapped in my tummy area where it had lots of room to move around and make other weird noises. i generally like to let my gas go free, but it didn't seem like the right time to laugh really loud, which is usually what i do when i fart. i just should have done it though, because the people sitting in front of me would shift and look around and whisper to each other whenever my stomach made gross rolling, farting sounds anyway. i wanted to lean forward and say, "at least it doesn't smell like ass, ok?" but i didn't, because what if they weren't noticing my noises, but commenting on dramatic points in the play or something?

dink shocky revolution

"dink shocky" is both a device and activity featured in the upcoming film production the brunching. the creative team at international house of killings has been hard at work on script development and will continue with production "brainstorming" sessions in the coming weeks.

international house of killings is a small and independent creative collective and is soliciting financial, pharmaceutical and technical support for their labour of love. the brunching is a complex production and requires countless hours of pre-pre-production development in order to ensure the visionary creative vision of international house of killings is fulfilled.

invest in artistic empowerment and support independent film.

international house of killings requires more money, drugs, ideas and healthful snacks to continue development of the brunching. international house of killings is accepting prototype blueprint "concepts" for "dink shocky," as well as financial and phamaceutical investment plans from interested parties.

send inquiries and proposals to international house of killings at shoshauna@hotmail.com.

burning hole

i found a new way to torture myself and i'm so excited about it. for the past 3 days my kitchen has been out of commission due to renovations, so I've been going over to the robin's donuts at the bus depot down the block to get my morning coffee and bun. and the morning counter girl hates her job so much she radiates burning, unbridled contempt. she is a black hole of resentment and bad customer service. the first time i experienced her joy, i told myself i wouldn't go back because her suckiness would poison my day too much. but then, i went the next day. i couldn't help it. i just rolled out of bed and couldn't stand the thought of walking more than 30 feet to get sustenance, so the bus depot was the only option. and now i'm hooked on her shit. she's like 4 feet tall, and i love that she hates me for no reason other than i want to buy goods from her. she hates everyone. i love to watch her abuse the other customers. hers is a safe, non-denominational kind of hate. because i don't think i'd love this half as much if she only treated me like shit.

it's the little pleasures that get me through the day.

speaking of which, i love my niece and nephew so much. they are the only people i know that treat me with the respect i deserve when i act like a psychotic retard. finally, people i can really be myself with. normally, children generate a feeling of profound indifference in me, but those little shit storms are totally "the bomb."

i'm feeling self conscious today. maybe i should just start drinking right now. i can't get high because my landlord, the plumber, and the carpenter are all hanging out in my kitchen. it's nice to have a new kitchen, but these guys are ruining my life.

vagina

here i am. posting again, i think. i need some sort of outlet for my angst and shame even though i keep resisting it.



so i moved to regina from whitehorse. in previous posts, i was freakish about not identifying where i lived, but that was only because whitehorse is so small that anyone who lived there and read my blog might be able to figure out who i am. that's where the shame aspect features. however, now i realize it really doesn't matter, and no one pays that much attention anyway.

i'm in regina because it's easier to be unemployed here than up north. it's so fucking cheap here! also, my mom is sick, so i thought it would be an opportune time to revisit my "hometown" for an extended period. so far, it's ok. although my lust for life seems to have dwindled to nights in front of the tv eating chocolate and smoking shitty weed. ahhh, whitehorse. it seems that only you have the crazies i need in order to add the right spice to my life. oh well. i like a challenge, so i'm going to make more of an effort to get into trouble around here. perhaps breadmaker can help me. . .

here comes the angst: fuck you. (just kidding) i'm actually only consciously angry about being separated from m. in whitehorse. i love him, and have an irritating habit of allowing my moods to be dictated by the frequency and "quality" of our communication since i've been gone. (maybe that's not really "anger" as such. but more like "frustration" and "neurotic emotional behaviour," but that definitely counts as angst-worthy for me.) ah, and i guess i'm angry that my mom is no longer able to live independently. she's only 61, and probably has at least another 10 years to live. but, she has to live with altered and limited mental abilities. this is really difficult for my dad. they've been married for 37 years, and now his wife is suddenly a completely different person.

i'm sure there's tons of other shit that deeply enrages me, but we'll keep it suppressed for awhile. at least until i feel a bit more comfortable in this new living situation.

i also feel i should mention that i suffered a bit of a mental breakdown in the spring and have been off work since then. it was great in whitehorse because i was living rent free all summer. now that i've "recovered" from crazyland, i have to find a way to re-enter the workforce. boring. or maybe it doesn't have to be. we'll see. any suggestions? my family is very uncomfortable with my unemployed status. don't they see how much happier i am? but i should find work, if only to get away from this shitball computer. i'm turning into one of those computer dependent people who only feel "connected" if they are "online."

hubris pear

i love the feeling of well-being and calm i get from a tumbler of scotch. i tried to recreate that feeling monday morning with a shot of vodka in my coffee. unfortunately, it didn't work and by mid-afternoon i had a splitting headache. sometimes finding appropriate coping techniques is a challenge.

on sunday i went to alaska for the day with a friend. she decided not to claim her purchases at the canadian border on the way home and got caught. we had to wait around while the customs agents searched her car for other illegal goodies. it was a pretty tense half hour for both of us. the car actually belongs to her boyfriend who is in quebec, and i was certain there was a stash of drugs somewhere in the car that both of them forgot about in their exstensive travels across the country. but, it turned out ok, and we actually got to see a black bear on the highway right in front of us just after our adventures in border crossing. so the lesson we learned there is: doing bad things means interesting things will happen to you. or something like that.

my crotch itches like you wouldn't believe. i got a bikini wax less than 2 weeks ago and it's already growing back. i must have mutant pubic hair. it's like those really hardy weeds that you can't pull out of the ground because the roots stretch for miles or something. and it doesn't even look good anymore. all that pain and money wasted just to have 3 days with a pussy that looks like an aging porn star's. is it really worth it?

hands of lamb

i just smashed both my knees when i was running up the stairs to get the phone. i slipped on the steps and then when i was propelling myself forward off my knees i slipped again and fell really hard on the kitchen floor, which is considerably less soft than the carpeted stairs. thankfully, i was laughing hysterically the whole time because the thought that it looked like my legs didn't work properly anymore seemed very funny.

i went to a little "welcome home/birthday/congratulations on graduating from your program" party for a couple of friends last night at the hotel where i was employed until very recently. i hate these kinds of events-- i never know who is going to be there, and inevitably i end up making inane conversation and pretending to be really excited to see certain people and act like i wouldn't rather be at the bar down the street. but, since i felt it would be bad form to not to at least make an appearance, i went. overpriced drinks, bad food and the above-mentioned social awkwardness compelled me to step outside for a cigarette. i saw the bar down the street and knew there were free drinks waiting for me (my friend works there), so off i went. saying good-bye is an over-rated social obligation most of the time anyway.

several free drinks were had and i got to see an amazing blues show, so the night was salvaged somewhat. but i'm still having trouble getting back into the social scene with genuine enthusiasm. that's ok. maybe i should create my own social scene that features more trannies, art wankers and party-minded intellectuals than my current circle. i know they're around here somewhere.

but when

much has happened in the last few months. i moved in with my boyfriend and then moved out last week. i also quit my job last week and will be starting my new job this week. i have been experiencing high levels of anxiety and depression. what else? that's about it. i've decided to start posting again in the hopes it will help inspire me to write more in general. so. . .

uh. not today.

satan's toothpaste

i do this weird thing when i get stressed out or depressed. i obsess over my hair. more specifically, how i don't believe i have enough hair and everyone can see this and feels sorry for me because i have a moderately pretty face and it's a shame my hair is so horrid so they don't say anything to me about it. except hairdressers. they really like to tell me how dry and thin my hair is. it freaks me right the fuck out. i imagine that i'm a few strands away from looking like kim mitchell. for people who are not familiar with kim mitchell, he is an 80's canadian "rocker" with long stringy hair except on the top of his head. he wears a baseball cap all the time. or he used to. i have no idea what kim's doing these days. anyway, i walk around feeling like an ugly freak. no matter what my friends say, i cannot accept the fact that i simply have really fine hair and i actually look completely normal. i hate being such a neurotic weirdo sometimes. maybe my hair would be healthier if i could chill the fuck out.

i also have a urinary tract infection. i had to give a urine sample today at the walk in clinic. there's such a shortage of doctors here that i haven't been able to find a regular physician in three years. i had one for a summer (whom i hated because she said i was a drug addict after i told her how much pot i smoked. doesn't she know addicts don't like to be told to do less drugs? we also don't like harsh judgements from our health care providers.) anyway, she left town without forwarding any of her patient files to other doctors or informing her patients that she was leaving, for that matter. whatever. back to the urine sample. i had to pee in a dixie cup while looking at myself in a mirror. i was hunched over, peeing on my hand and all i could think of was how much better i would look doing that if i had more hair and how cruel it is to have mirrors like that in a walk in clinic bathroom. oh yeah, i also got my period today, so this experience was extra fun. what else happened today? hmm. well, i woke up at 2am and couldn't get back to sleep because the waves of fear just wouldn't let me. i'm having job anxiety right now because i have a new boss whose function is to make my shop and others like it way more money than we're making right now. he expects me actually work, which i am not accustomed to. really, no one has cared at all what i've been doing for the past 18 months and suddenly i'm being pushed into being some sort of "business person." i'm scared that i won't be able to perform. so there's that. and, i got served with a summons to court today for an incident that happened at the shop over the summer. one of the summer staff sold cigarettes to a minor, got caught and failed to tell me about it. i was hoping it was forgotten, but apparently health canada never forgets. all in all, a very shitty day.

i suddenly don't want to think about any of this anymore. i wish m. was here right now.