Well, as you may have surmised if you are a regular reader of my old blog and my alan smithee’d psychosis blog and this one, I had a rough spring. Mostly it was because I got off meds due to a scare about the Rash, which I did get and survived and there are no scars, just a very broken heart and a VERY righteously angry ex-whatever. I don’t think we ever actually stated our relationship perameters so ex-whatever might make the most sense, especially since hir gender, while obviously bio-female and ultra femmey, has some definite boy characteristics to it. Anyway, the ORIGINAL issue was mainly that I had decided to transition and suddenly had to come to terms with it. Yeah, I don’t recommend trying to come to terms with gender reassignment while being in a mental health crisis with bad meds.
Anyway, my shrink doesn’t think I look like a boy, which if you saw my boobs you would have to agree with. But I am a guy, and so this summer I’m trying to come to terms with that, more specifically with learning how to be a nice guy and not an ASSHOLE!!! Ugh, oh man, I was so not into becoming an asshole. Anyway, the psych ward I was in didn’t really know where to place me in their system, so I ended up bunking with post menopausal women, who were kind of annoyed at me. And then the nursing staff got more annoyed when on my way out the door they finally got to see what I really think of contemporary psychiatric care in my new film. But overall it was a more pleasant experience than Montreal, which was just a snake pit.
Anyway, there IS a gender clinic in town. I went to my G.P. today and talked about it. She had a student doctor with her and said “Okay, tell us what happened to you.” (She had been visiting me regularly in the hospital, so it was mostly for the student’s benefit). I said “I had a manic episode and went into the hospital to get stabilized and now I am stabilized and I am still thinking about transitioning to male and I am thinking that I can’t see myself not doing it anymore.” And then she just asked how long I had been thinking about it and I said since I was a teenager, and she asked about my childhood and I said I had been spending most of my time with boys and then didn’t fit in with girls. And then I mentioned I had toenail fungus, which we looked at (ew, I know, but I may as well tell you how my doctor’s visit went). Anyway, it was the student doctor who knew of who in town ran the gender clinic or was involved with it anyway.
Chest Surgery is going to be the cost of like, a cheap Saturn car or something! T is about ten bucks every two weeks and it’s a pain in the ass (ha ha ha!). Mostly I am just surfing around looking for cost for everything. I want to get a packer sometime soon, for now I am just using the condom/hairgel packer, well, not even that because I am in a female only care home until september, which is kind of ridiculous, but the shrink and all the doctors were like “Woah, just, knock it off, deal with one thing first!” So the manic episode, clearly, took number one priority and rightly so. Nevermind that I was still coming out to everyone about being a tranny all the time. Well, not so much in the hospital.
I’m trying to learn a sport, basketball to be precise. I need to do something to start building muscle mass, something better than just sitting around on the internet. I’ve taken to wearing hats recently, wich given my penchant for sunstroke is probably a good idea. I’m trying to think of a new backpiece to get, first I wanted a monarch butterfly with David Suzuki’s head in it, and then I wanted a Pegasus, and anyway, not sure. The Pegasus still intrigues me. I’m considering taking fencing classes again, because I always liked the sport. Maybe I could become competitive!
As if I’m not already competitive in the film world. I am still ticked off that no one has noticed I’m up there with Miranda July. Maybe I have to make my first feature to be at her level now, Miss I Won At Cannes. Dammit! If Only I hadn’t had that manic episode. Then again, if I hadn’t had the first episode I wouldn’t have my screenplay. It’s kind of bizarre feeling like my only accomplishment is the completion of a feature film screenplay. And then again there would be some people who would be impressed by that. Maybe it is impressive and I’m just being too dammed hard on myself. Currently it’s in the hands of a producer relative who is reading it. I didn’t realize it was really about police brutality. I mean, it doesn’t really have a main antagonist, just The System, which really does come through as the antagonist to these characters, and the funny thing is that they also have to rely on it. Don’t we all?
Aside from that I applied for a program at the Banff Centre and am also applying to do Freak Show peepholes for Saskatoon that speak about gentrification in the Riversdale Area. The freaks are the upper class in my version. So we’ll see, it would be nice to get a $1000 artist fee sooner rather than later. And my dad could help me make them, hopefully.
Anyway, it’s been a weird ass spring and mostly I’m glad it’s over and mostly I’ll be glad when I get my work being made again. I have another idea for a Canada Council grant and someone suggested I do the aboriginal curatorial grant, I dunno. Maybe. It would be nice to get some video work into Saskatoon. There are little blips of shows and teeny festivals, but nothing major. A major film festival would really make a difference to the art scene in this town.
And then aside from that this summer I do psych rehab AND talk to the shrink about wanting to become a man. A tiny man. With tiny hands and feet. For a girl I have small feet even. Not too small to get toe fungus though.