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PIE DADDY!

OMG SO I FORGOT to let you all know I got a new tattoo. It’s this Pie Daddy tattoo on my stomach. This is a shot of it the same day I took the bandage off, when you can kind of see where the square of tape stuck to me. It’s healing well. On Wednesday it will be two weeks since I got it. There’s still some scabby stuff on it. But mostly it’s good, cute, makes me happy!

It’s kind of a joke/sexy tattoo. I dunno ha ha someone will be wanting my Pie Daddy body ha ha. I mean I like making pies for cute femmes, and once in a while I like getting called Daddy, and I like mixing weird things up into new things, which is how this tattoo came to be. It was a spur of the moment decision and then only a couple weeks after getting in touch with the artist, she got me in to get it done.

Getting my stomach tattooed was weird. Some places hurt SO FUCKING BAD and she sprayed me a couple times with vasocaine which is a topical anesthetic. Other places getting tattooed just made me kind of sleepy and zone out. Until she would hit a painful spot again.

BUT overall I am happy with it.

I’d write more but I need to wash some dishes and get ready to get picked up for going out of town for the work week. I’m going to be helping youth make videos.

Life is good other wise. Things are happening. I’m feeling hopeful mostly.

Performance, Workshop, Screening, OMG!

So I’m back from Queer City Cinema in Regina where I performed “Love Is The Only Socially Acceptable Psychosis” for the first time. I tried to put some pics on social media but obviously I had to censor them because fb and instagram hate nipples. ANYWAY here are a couple of photos of my performance:

Also this one:

I think it went well, I didn’t cut myself anyway which is what I secretly worried about. I had a giant knife I got from a witch store and it’s massively pointy and super sharp. And it didn’t cut me, so that was nice. The red candle did start burning me tho so I switched to my other action of putting oil and turmeric on myself. But then that ended and I went back to the candle. And the whole time audio of me reading parts of my diaries was playing, like the parts about love and chances not taken and rejections and hopeful relationships and failed relationships, all that stuff. It’s interesting to hear the readers digest version of your love life while doing basically some BDSM stuff. Anyway yeah it was good! And I got a positive response. I will be performing it again on October 3rd at 7a*11d here in Toronto.

I also did workshops, and had a retrospective. Sitting through the retrospective was bizarre cause it was like some funny stuff and sex stuff and trauma stuff and basically all the things that consumed my thoughts in my teen and adult years. I had a good audience for that too, which was nice.

And I got to see all my old Saskie friends.

It was really wearing on me though, just all the stuff I had to do, I was there a long time, it was really busy. I got home today and finally rested, literally just vegged out on the couch listening to tunes and eating a giant burrito.

My depression has faded away. My personal problems HAVEN’T though, but I’m hoping I’ll be able to deal with them better now that I don’t have pregnancy hormones in my body wreaking havoc on my psyche. It’s something anyway. I painted my nails tonight for the first time in months. It was a good sign I think. I need to find a ride to go get my puppies and I’m worried about that right now. It’s stressful. I really need them back here so I can feel complete, my family is broken right now without them. And Little Mister is getting so old and I don’t want him to die without me. I really love him so much and I think he might need to go to the vet soon to deal with his senior dog issues. And I have money right now to take him.

There’s a mouse in the house. I’m super tired. I had to wear my retainer in my hood piercing since just before the egg retrieval, and let me tell you it did NOT make masturbating fun. Like man that stuff scratches. ANYWAY tonight I got my regular jewelry back in and I’m a happier person. I also ran out of cabergoline while I was away, so I need to go tomorrow and pick more up. I am using up my prescription because it gives insanely good orgasms, and I’m no chump I’m not gonna pass that up.

Anyway I’m super exhausted. I just thought you might like to read something more updated and not about how depressed I was. I need to go make my bed now and get in it and sleeeeeeeeep.

Bear Cub

So I read this story today that someone had copy-pasted to Facebook about the Crees and smallpox. I was looking around and found it online too. It’s about my Great Great Grandfather Mistatimwas and how he survived a smallpox epidemic, as told to my Grandpa by his father. I will link to it here.

Basically he talks in very symbolic terms about how they could see this coming, and arriving at a camp of dead Blackfoot, and how his men were dying as they went home and how he collapsed on the way and some boys ran to get his father who doctored him under a bear cub robe. They even talk about where the bear cub robe had come from, his father (my Great Great Great Grandfather) had tamed this bear cub, I assume they had to kill it because it was too dangerous to keep as it got bigger and was too tame to go back to the wild. But they kept this cub’s robe, and this is probably the second time I’ve seen a description in a historical document or oral story about that robe being used to doctor Mistatimwas by his father. His father’s name was Macinam which means The Handsome One. And his father’s wife’s name was Wehwew which my Cree dictionary app says means small goose. This is the first time I’ve seen one of my women ancestors on that side’s names. Anyway, this bear cub robe was used to cure him of smallpox in a ceremony, and then again during the 1885 rebellion when he fought at the Battle of Cutknife Hill he was doctored under a bear robe. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the same one, it would make a lot of sense, especially since his father was doctoring him that time too. Both times he was saved from death. I guess that bear cub really loved our family.

The thing is, before I knew about this bear cub robe, I had a dream I was being doctored by a bear cub. It was small and cute and totally non-threatening, it didn’t look like a teddy bear though, it looked like any black bear cub. It was leading a sweatlodge ceremony I was in. Part of that dream was kind of ridiculous because I kept hearing a doorbell like someone was interrupting us and I had to go deal with this door not being answered by my relatives. BUT the part about the bear cub leading the sweat really stayed with me.

There was another time this bear cub showed up. I remember when I was very young and beginning to deal with my depression (which was pretty scary and intense and sad) and my Auntie and Uncle were doctoring me. And I remember my Auntie said she saw a bear cub roll into the room.

White people have pretty much cheapened the concept of spirit animals with all their bullshit “Wine is my spirit animal” shit. BUT it is a real thing for Indigenous people, and bears have been part of our family as guardians for a really long time. I don’t talk a lot about my spiritual side to people who don’t get it, because cynics can be really irritating and that whole racist “You Indians and your woo woo talking animals” thing is so tired. But I’m kind of feeling a bit better about my destiny with this bear cub hanging around. It’s interesting that it’s continuing to do medicine for our family.

The bear cub robe is buried with my Great Great Grandfather, in an unmarked grave so that grave robbers can’t get it. I guess it doesn’t really matter that we can’t hold it or put it over ourselves or use it in ceremony, since that bear cub is still following us and doing something. I don’t know what. I do know I wasn’t depressed for most of high school, after getting doctored a lot for my depression. I do know I’ve managed to avoid death in some really weird fluke ways.

I’ve seen bigger bears in my dreams too though, more often big powerful mother bears who seem to be confronting me like they want me to take something. I’m nervous that I’m being called to do medicine, I don’t know if I can handle that. Maybe there is something else this big bear is wanting. I am always terrified of the bigger ones. I know I have to confront my fears in my dreams and just see what this bear wants. Instead I just keep running and hiding.

But the bear cub, I can deal with that one, that one seems to be able to get close to me.

I’m getting a bear tattooed on my chest. I am waiting to heal and then do the chrysanthemum around it, but right now it looks like this:

Skin Stitch Day

I’m writing this from my hotel in Edmonton, tomorrow I take a bus to Calgary to continue my trip and do the work part and the reason I got to come to Alberta. But today! Today was tattoo day.

I’ve thought for a LONG time about getting traditional Plains Cree women’s tattoos. I actually started feeling like I wanted them in 2007. But that was like, 11 years ago, and Indigenous traditional tattoos of that type were still not seen very often. Especially since they are facial tattoos, and people have really strong feelings about facial tattoos. They’re pretty taboo. But it’s also just true that a lot of Indigenous women globally have traditionally had facial tattoos. Anyway, I did do a lot of research on it, mostly my reservations about it had to do with gender though. I’m non-binary, but also feel I fluidly cross between female and male. And in the end I felt I lived on the female end of things long enough that I could comfortably wear women’s traditional markings.

Anyway, Plains Cree women had a typical pattern of three sets of lines or dots. I decided in the end to do lines and dots, so like, a line, dots, and another line, but three times. It’s still really new for Cree women to reclaim these tattoos. Because colonizers made us stop tattooing ourselves, which is also true for many other Indigenous people.

So anyway, it’s now 2018. I don’t know when I finally decided I HAD to do it. I just know last year I decided since I was turning 40 this year, it was gonna be THIS YEAR! So I narrowed down the artist I wanted to use to Amy Malbeuf who does skin stitch and hand poke tattooing. I am pretty specific about only letting women tattoo me, and also I wanted someone who was also Indigenous since it’s such a culturally specific tattoo. So we made a plan this spring, and I managed to be in the same city as her at the same time through some luck between our art careers working in this convenient way.

ANYWAY ha ha there’s my preamble. She got in touch with me again after I did a test walk around town with my intended design to see how I felt. She said it would look really good done in skin stitch. And I have to admit, skin stitch terrified me. I was like, omg. And then of course I felt compelled, because if something scares me that much then I kind of end up wanting to do it. So I was thinking about it a lot, and I actually didn’t google videos of skin stitch being done. I’m glad I didn’t, because I’m sure it looks intense. So basically, when it came to it, the first time I experienced skin stitching was getting the first stitch on my chin.

She came over to our hotel room and set up and it was all super sterile and the needle and thread were autoclaved and she kept changing gloves at different points and there were drop clothes and I’m only telling you all these details so you know how controlled the situation was in case you think about getting this done. Like there were some definite tattoo procedures being followed that were pretty much the same as my experiences in licensed studios. So then she draws on me, and this took a REALLY long time because it was such a precise design. There was a lot of photos and checking in mirrors, it was very thoughtful.

SO ANYWAY finally after all this I am feeling comfortable anyway, and I am getting used to her touching my face with all the drawing and wiping and things. So I am laying down on a drop cloth on the bed and she does the first stitch right in the middle so in case I hate it, then at least it’s symmetrical. And then the needle pokes in, and it’s sharp, and then there’s pressure, and then the end of the needle where the thread goes through kind of widens the hole a bit and then it’s out. And the thread is short, so it’s not like this huge long thread is going through. I also had some gauze under my lip so that it would stretch out my lip and be easier to stitch. Anyway, I was really nervous that I wouldn’t be able to handle skin stitching. But the tattoo machine rips skin, and the skin stitch is more like a short piercing. Not even as painful as a piercing though, because it’s not going through a piece of flesh at the same depth as a piercing. So anyway, I was actually surprised at how okay with it I was.

It was still a big tattoo for skin stitching though. It took about three hours, with a break for sugar and a snack to calm down some intense bleeding, and a bathroom break. But most of it was fine. When things really got intense were the three or four stitches closest to my lip in each line. Those ones were fucking hard to deal with. But like, I’m not wincing or anything either because obviously I can’t move my lips around while someone is stitching me. And it’s a sharp sewing needle being used, not a special needle for skin or anything. But it’s really sharp, so it’s not really like blunt and terrible. Actually for most of it I felt really sleepy and relaxed, it was just the near the lip parts that were difficult.

So anyway, now it’s on there. I was really getting antsy on the last line, I wanted to be done. It’s not like I couldn’t handle it anymore, but yeah I wanted to be done. And then there were three stitches left to even things out, and I really was done!

So far it’s only been several hours with my new face. My Mom and I went to Boston Pizza for dinner, and no one looked at me weird. So far it’s been okay. Tomorrow I part ways with my Mom and head to Calgary, and it might be different there, who knows. We’ll see. I’m really loving it right now tho.

Lacklustre Post

Hey hey! Here’s the centrefold of the first and only issue of Fit of Pique the ZINE based on this blog but also I just drew and wrote a bunch of stuff. I made it for a class! Some guy was an asshole to me about it tho cause I wrote a story in there about being a psychiatric survivor so it diminished me as a human being in his eyes. This is actually not a unique experience I have had, it has happened before about other aspects of my identity.

ANYWAY~! It’s Saturday night and I’m just hanging out at home. I cleaned the place so I don’t feel like a jerkface. I used to be a mega slob, then I quit weed and suddenly had energy and desire to not live in filth anymore. So it’s not too bad, sometimes there’s stuff on the floor but it’s getting better.

Today was a fucked up day, I think we can all agree. Literal nazis rallied in the USA and literal nazis killed antifa protestors. And the ACLU helped the nazi’s get their permit to rally reinstated, which makes me fucking suspicious of the ACLU now.

And then the President didn’t really come out strongly against it because a) he knows white supremacy got him into power, and b) he is also a white supremacist.

So, I dunno. Life is really sketch on this planet. So you can read this image and have a laugh or a cringe that has nothing to do with contemporary politics. Hell it was drawn in 2005 that’s a long time ago.

I’m in a relatively good mood, although earlier this evening I had like, cry eyes, like not crying but like I MIGHT CRY! Like some tears lining up to paratroop out and then changing their minds. And it wasn’t even related to fuckin anything, it was just like, feeling disappointed in myself as a person. And then it went away.

You know I was gonna try and write a really good post today. But I am fuckin wiped out and I need to hit the hay soon. And I’m just gonna hit publish. The main thing you can see is the pic anyway, which I hope makes up for the lacklustre content tonight!

Little Mister is much better!

Little Mister had an emergency vet visit about 12 days ago, the vet thought he might have a leaky disc in his spine.  So he was on crate rest for ten to fourteen days. He was very sore, even with the gabapentin they prescribed for him. BUT he got a lot better, and now he only goes in his crate when I can’t watch him. He’s not tip top just yet but he’s able to have more of a normal life than before. He was so bored, but then he started going in on his own and I think he knew it was good for him.

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Posey has been trying to hump him the last couple of days and I keep pulling her off, but sometimes she does it behind my back and Little Mister has the most outraged yelp! Poor dude! She’s gotta learn!

I finished my first draft of my outline and my advisor wrote some notes on it for me to think about, but he has given the ok to move on to writing a first draft of my script.  So that’s pretty exciting!

I am almost done writing my grant for Canada Council. I just need a letter from my department head saying it has nothing to do with my graduate studies, which is true since it will happen after I am done anyway.

It’s really really cold here. I am staying home but it’s so freezing even inside! My hands feel numb. Little Mister goes and sleeps in the bathroom because it’s warmer. But my bed is warm enough, especially with Posey in it.  Smooth coated dachshunds throw off a lot of body heat, and they like being all the way under the covers.

I’m tired! I keep sleeping in.  It’s reading week so it doesn’t matter a whole lot, but I don’t want to fall into bad habits.

I was looking at jobs tonight out of curiousity. There are some interesting ones out there. I am not gonna start applying until I find out about this grant, but maybe in August I will look for something part time.

It’s cold and I want warm hands so I am going under the covers now! Goodnight!