So I’m supposed to get referred to another psychiatrist to deal with my trans issues. Apparently my shrink is better suited to the bipolar aspects of me. On that front apparently I am recovering really well, my sleeping is supposed to be pretty normal and I am getting used to my medication. I’m going to A Bipolar Education Group and I’m also supposed to be finding out about starting a psychiatric rehab day program, which would give me something to do in the days. I’ve been pretty wiped out frm my manic episode, as one can imagine. I lost 30 pounds in the space of a month or something, which is kind of good but kind of not. I get 130 bucks a month spending money while I live in this mental health approved home, and that can’t pay for new clothes. I smoke again, which is also bad because it wipes out some of my money for other fun things I could be doing instead. Luckily this is all a temporary situation. LUCKILY since for the rest of the month I’m bunking with an elderly schizophrenic woman I’ve secretly dubbed Poo-Television Lady, since she can’t seem to grasp the concept of where to find the toilet paper and believes everything on the television is really happening. Especially troublesome since one of the other bipolar women in the house is addicted to Turner Classic Movies.
Ted Turner also has bipolar. I’m telling you, WE RUN THE FREAKN WORLD! now you know why everything seems insane!
Anyway, my mum found some of my old shorts and the one that fits my new bulge the best is ironically a total girl’s pair of shorts. They look butch but the label says girl something on it. Or SOMETHING GIRL> hey, that could be a new label!
And on the catwalk, capri’s by Something Girl, pret a porter.
I do my little turn on the catwalk.
I should go, I have to get back to internetless land and weather sharing yet another night in the room with Poo-Television Lady.
I’m used to poop because of my sister, but that still doesn’t make it fun. No scatplayer here!
Oh yeah, anyway the nurse and the pdoc both think I’m doing well for how extremely manic I was. I think I’m doing well too.
One of the funnier things I said when I was crazy was that my Ex, Velveeta, was going to show a video of my asshole contracting and expanding at the Whitney, and that it was called Story of the Eye and it was about George W. Bush. I was an asshole really, but I still think that was the funniest manic myth I spun.
There really is a video of my asshole in the possession of One Velveeta Krisp. We shot it at ECIAD in 2001. She denies it’s mine, apparently it’s just meant to be The Anonymous Asshole.