Kat's Translation of Bebot - Version 2

Original

Kat’s Mangled Translation

Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Ikaw ang aking Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Ikaw ang aking Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Ikaw ay Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! Hoy pare, pakinggan n’yo ako Heto na ang tunay na Pilipino Galing sa baryo - Sapang Bato Pumunta ng L.A. - nagtrabaho Para makatulong sa Nanay Dahil sa hirap ng buhay Pero masaya pa rin ang kulay Pag kumain - nagkakamay ‘yung kanin - *chicken adobo ‘yung balut - binibenta sa kanto Tagay mo na nga ang baso Pare ko, inuman na tayo Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Ikaw ang aking Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Ikaw ang aking Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Ikaw ay Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! Masdan mo ang magagandang dalaga Nakakagigil ang beauty mo talaga Lambing na hindi nakakasawa Ikaw lang and gustong makasama ‘yung bahay o kubo Pag-ibig mo ay tutoo Puso ko’y laging kumikibo Wala kang katulad sa mundo Pinoy ka - sigaw na - sige Kung maganda ka - sigaw na - sige Kung buhay mo’y mahalaga - sige Salamat sa ‘yong suporta Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! ldklfmlkjtkg,mtyhuyu Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Ikaw ang aking Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Ikaw ay Pinoy ka - sigaw na - sige Kung maganda ka - sigaw na - sige Kung buhay mo’y mahalaga - sige Salamat sa ‘yong suporta - sige Pinoy ka - sigaw na - sige Kung maganda ka - sigaw na - sige Kung buhay mo’y mahalaga - sige Salamat sa ‘yong suporta Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! La la la la la la la . . . . la la lo . . . . La la la la la la la lo . . .

Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- You’re something something... Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- You’re something something... Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- You are- Filipino! Filipino! Filipino! Filipino! Hey Father, what are you eating? This is the something of Pilipino. From the village – something something. I went to LA – to work. To help my mom. It was hard to do well. Because masaya pa rin ang kulay To eat – nagkakamay. My food – marinated chicken My duck fetus – bought on the corner Tagay mo na nga ang baso Father you, I’m working. Filipino! Filipino! Filipino! Filipino! Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- You’re something something... Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- You’re something something... Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- You are- Filipino! Filipino! Filipino! Filipino! I want pretty girls. The ones who are really beautiful. I don’t want a wife. Do you want me to be with you? My work o kubo Water of mine tutoo Puso ko’y lagging kumikibo None kang katulad sa mundo You’re Filipino – go now – go If you’re pretty – go now – go If you work nice – go Thanks for your support. Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! ldklfmlkjtkg,mtyhuyu Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- You’re something something... Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- You are- You’re Filipino – go now – go If you’re pretty – go now – go If you work nice – go Thanks for your support. You’re Filipino – go now – go If you’re pretty – go now – go If you work nice – go Thanks for your support. Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! La la la la la la la . . . . la la lo . . . . La la la la la la la lo . . . .

Notes:
"Bebot" really translates to something more like "sexy girl" or "hot girl," but that would be really confusing.

I have no idea what he's saying half the time so most of it is just made up shit.

In Generation Two, the mom is really really loud. And she keeps calling Taboo Tabo- a small plastic bucket used to hold water so you can wash yourself after you pee. Seriously. I`m not joking about that.

Tired, Again

I should mention first that I cry quite rarely when I'm have a panic attack, and mostly because its' so goddamn frustrating to have them.

I went to see my family doctor today, and then I went to get my blood test and ECG. He said he wanted to see me next week, and well...*sigh* My first thought was, "Like I don't see enough doctors anyways."

But my feelings change on that often. Sometimes I wish I could see someone more often, when I'm having a really bad time of it. Sometimes I wish I would see them less. Always, I know that I still need them. I know that so many people don't have all the help that I do, and that they may need it more.

Let's be honest though, eventually, you get tired of doctors. Doctors with their Alphabits cereal letters after their names - MD, Ph.D, MSW, CCFP, MC, all that stuff. As much as I like that I get out of school, I'd like to be able to stay at school everyday for an entire week. (Even though we all know I'd just skip a day to work from home.) Just having that option would be nice.

Please that don't read this and think that I'm ungrateful for all the help that I've got, I just want to have a normal life once in a while! I met Dr. G and now know that I want to be like her when I get older, but because I've had to have met her I know that's a longshot. Okay, let me try to rephrase that, it didn't make any sense.

I met Dr. G because of my mental health issues. After meeting her, I knew that I wanted to like her when I grew up. But because of these same issues, I know that being a doctor is so...nearly impossible. But if I never had to meet her, if I never had these issues, that would still be possible for me. I used to be a straight A student, I actually processed what I was reading the first few times around, I studied hard but had a life too, I had so much!!! I really, really want that back.

I really should stop, I'm starting to feel the panic coming. But god! I want that so badly! I want to be a doctor, but I also just want my academic life to go back to how it used to be. I never dreamed that I would be taking a fifth year, or failing courses, or struggling so damn much when I started high school. Everyone's going to university next year! All my friends except Christine are leaving! Valerie is heading for life sci, and hopefully medical school. Michelle is headed somewhere, and hopefully that island in that country that was on that show to dig up those things! Vanessa is heading for something that requires measuring, and hopefully something else that requires measuring! Everyone is going on, reachin' for their dreams, and they all have a chance for it. Dr. Val isn't such a stretch in my imagination. Dr. Kat, as much as I joke about her, she's as fictional as my alter-ego's get.

Now I'm going to do my evening yoga, and ask my dad if I can borrow his Metropass while I go hunt for a copy of the September 25th Advocate tomorrow. OH MY GOD!!! THE NEW ISSUE IS OUT!! I swear, if I can't find it tomorrow, I'm going to buy a back issue no matter how much it costs. (*Thinks.) I swear, if I can't find the September issue tomorrow, I'm going to buy a back issue if it costs me less than what's remaining in my bank account after I buy my Curve subscription. Good night.

Inside a Panic Attack

I want to write this down before I fall asleep. I was really hesitant to post this, originally I was typing in a word document to save so I could remember. But I want you guys to know and recognize the signs of a panic attack, and start to get a feel for what it's like. I'm going to do point form for now, perhaps I'll come back to it later.

• Hyperventilating (quick, short breaths)
• Tingling in the mouth, hands, and toes. (as a result of hyperventilation.)
• Dizzyness (again, as a result of hyperventilation)
• Heart palpitations (heart beating fast)
• Sweating
  
• Choking (not actually choking, but gagging on something and getting the feeling you're choking)
• Shaking or trembling
• Crying

Those are what happens when I get panic attacks. Here are some other things to look out for:

• Smothering or shortness of breath sensations
• Chest pain or discomfort (this especially can make it feel like a heart attack)
• Nausea, bloating, or abdominal discomfort
• Disrealisation (feeling unreal or dreamy)
  
• Depersonalization (feeling outside of yourself or like you don't exist)
• Fear of losing control of going crazy
• Skin losing colour
• Hot/cold flashes (like menopause!)
• REALLY REALLY needing to pee or poo

Some of these things I used to experience, but ever since I learned to recognize that I was having a panic attack I also learned that I wouldn`t lose control or go crazy. That was nice to know. Depersonalization was something that happened consistently through grade 7,8 and 9. Every person and every attack is different- most times, I don`t cry.

OKAY! The number one thing not listed? PANIC! I also get frustrated. You may not feel there is a reason for you to be panicking, but you are. Too late! Sometimes it can appear out of nowhere. I've had panic attacks after sitting quietly, focused on my units. I`ll be write-write-writing and then suddenly there it is! Or maybe you can find a reason. Either way, you`re having a panic attack. Knowing what can trigger them is important, because then you can try to prevent them. (Note: not by avoiding your trigger, but by slowly practicing until it doesn't have as much of an effect on you.)

BREATHE DEEPLY AND SLOWLY. This can be so, so difficult when you're already hyperventilating. I tried this time, but it didn't work out for me. Another technique is to focus on an object and describe it in detail to yourself. They're both hard things to do, but they work when you can do it. If you're with someone having a panic attack, walk them through these exercises gently and slowly.

The Aftermath. I usually feel really tired after a panic attack, and just a little bit stupid and embarrassed. Although if it happens in a public place, like on the bus or at school I'll try my best to move on. I don't know if that's the best thing to do or not, but that's what I know for now.

I'm going to stop here. They weren't kidding about the drowsiness...I might come back to this later. If I'm not too lazy. See ya.

PS: I really meant to describe it, how it feels, but I'm tired now.

HPV Vaccine and The Lorspital

I was lucky today, I caught all my buses with just a little waiting. (43.190.133) Which was odd, because I got to the lorspital just in time to duck into the nice washroom and head up the elevator. The weekend of absolute horror is over, so I'm going to go back to not blogging really personal stuff.

Looks like several of the Catholic school boards are going to take a vote on allowing public health to go into the schools and provide Grade 8 girls with the HPV vaccine.

HPV is human papilloma virus. It can lead to cervical cancer.

"At the centre of the debate is the Conference of Catholic Bishops, which said in a statement that since HPV occurs only through sex, which is appropriate only through marriage, in theory the young girls would have no need for the vaccinations, though there is no issue with the vaccine itself." -City News

I see where they are coming from. (Don't I always?) But that's very ideal thinking. Come on, I go to Catholic school, and Catholic doctrine can be a fairly small reason for girls to resist becoming sexually active. So ideally, yes, grade 8 girls in Catholic schools would not be sexually active until they are married. However, we don't live in a perfect world. I think these girls should get the vaccine in school, because let's face it- how many girls will really go to a public clinic to get the vaccine? It's hard talking about sexual health, and I'd imagine that would be a major factor in how many girls will go out and get it themselves.

Edit: I forgot to mention this lady who suddenly started talking to me at Shoppers while I was waiting for my prescription to get filled. She was reading this article about Michael Jackson and started telling me about how Neverland is really a code for a secret place where he sends people he doesn't like so he "never has to see them again." And how he's not really MJ but a representative of another country- she won't say which, but I heard something really offensive about Muslims while I was trying to count stitches in my knitting. And how she figured it out after years of contemplating.

Stupid Questions and Vomit

My mom asked me this morning, “How long are you planning to be ‘sick’?”

Now I understand she’s going under the assumption that I’m still faking sick, but as I’m not that really pisses me off. I don’t PLAN to be sick. If I could, I’d plan to never be sick! Hello!!! I’d plan to never feel icky and especially, I’d plan to never ever be depressed.



On a grosser note, I just threw up. People always say you should feel better after you throw up, and I’m really hoping that’s the case. (Although I’m still feeling icky.) Hopefully I threw up whatever was making me sick. But I did realize yesterday night that what I was feeling after the snifflies and the sneezies went away is exactly the same as all the times I had low blood pressure. So I’m going to either talk to write out a note telling one of my parents that it feels like that, leave out how angry I am that they ignored it, and ask them to get me salty food. My family doctor said to eat salty food when my BP gets really low. Of course, my dad has high BP so we don’t have a lot of salty food just lying around the house. I`ll pay for it, just make this go away!!!

Phase Two: The Yelling

I’m really dizzy, which I love, because if I tell my parents I’m really dizzy they’ll start yelling at me about how I haven’t eaten. Which like the nausea, really helps. I was just about to go downstairs and get something to eat but I got really spinny on the stairs and I sat down, and then I came back here.

My prediction came true!!! Last night before I went to bed I thought, “If I wake up tomorrow and I still feel like shit, they’re going to say that I’m faking, because they’ve been ignoring me for the past five days and don’t know how I’ve been feeling.” Yep. So my mom started yelling about how I’m not sick, and how I’m lazy and I don’t do anything and I’m going to fail school and then she comes back in the room, and starts telling me how I can’t give up and shit in this fake soft voice. Then she started yelling again.

It’s getting really hard to type, I’m getting all sweaty and even more dizzy. I HOPE THEY BURN IN HELL. Or at least, I hope I get hit by a Mac truck tomorrow. My head is constantly aching, I get dizzy just switching windows on the computer, let alone turning around, I’m hot-than-cold-than-hot-than-cold, I’m nauseous, I’m tired, and that’s just the physical stuff. I tried acetaminophen, I tried serc, I forced food down my gullet, (which came back up my gullet and made me more dizzy, AGAIN) I really just want to hurt my parents.

I think them ignoring me was better than them yelling at me, because at least it was quiet. I’m going to try to get down the stairs again.

Heterosexual Justification

I couldn’t sleep. This weekend I’ve blogged more and with a lot more personal stuff than ever before, mostly because I’m finding it so difficult to stay on MSN and nearly impossible to talk out loud. Less painful things are starting to pop back into my head.

This debut thing. I always swore that if I was single on my debut I would have a friend escort me. All the debut’s I went to where the girl was just by herself seemed really...lonely. I know I’ve blogged before about the raging heterosexuality of the whole thing, but it’s pretty huge. I can’t back out, that’s for sure. After this weekend I know even now that I’m going to be like hell on earth. If my parents will ignore me for something small like they did, imagine them planning a gigantic wedding-esque party.

Again, I have already blogged about how horrible a debut would be for a girl with anxiety issues.

I will not have a male escort me at this debut. Would a straight girl let another girl escort her? But what would I do? I know I would ask a friend to escort me if I’m single, that’s a given. I know my friends are wonderful enough to do so. What really, really bugs me is the fact that I will have to justify it. And fight for it. I just...I really wonder, what is the point of introducing me to society if I’m not interested in the gender I’m being introduced to?

Now even after I make it clear I will not be escorted by a male, picture this.

My friends and family precede me into the ballroom. (God, I cannot believe how monstrous that sounds.) Anyways, then the MC pauses and says, “Now I present to society, Katherina Miranda Yerro, and her escort, Random-Female-Name-Here.” The crowd claps awkwardly. My friends cheer and clap with much more enthusiasm. People stare.

Ending A: I say nothing, and then the entire community mutters and spreads rumours about myself and my family, “Did she have to shove it in our faces?” “Don’t they have any tact?” “Fucking lesbo.”

Ending B: I say something, and the entire community mutters, albeit quietly. I bring their attention to the fact that should a straight girl be escorted by a man, no one would be muttering, “Did she have to shove her heterosexuality in our faces?”

As much as I loathe the idea of a debut, or rather the process before it, I do not want to be spending my coming-of-age, my Filipino bat mitzvah explaining, “God Hates Gays- or Maybe Just Angel Rapists and Gentiles” and attempting to put Leviticus and Gomorrah into context. It has potential to be a really nice night, in between the inevitable arguing and anger. Homophobia is not really something I had planned as part of it. Suggestions?

A Breakthrough!

Yes, my dad talked to me today! Actually he said, "get up! get up! you've been sleeping all day!" which is wonderful, because they`re omnipotent and know what I`ve been doing even though they were out until 4:30. And I love getting woken up so I replied, `No! I`m sleeping!` into the mattress. And my dad stormed out and said, `You know, you are getting to be too much.` then yelled down the stairs, `she said NO, again!`

Imagine that. God, I`m horrible.

So after that Bunny and I were talking and she was like, `Grampa finally talks to us and you totally screwed it up.` (Or rather, Gampa, fi`y taws to us an`yoo tohyee scewed it up.)

I should probably be more grateful. Yea. They've done so much for me since I was diagnosed. Like...ignoring the existence of a problem for the first, (hard) year. Oh, and then failing to make an appointment for six months the year after that. (That was before I was okay enough to talk on the phone.)

Yea, and then when I had that really really horrible month last February and they just kept getting angry at me. Oh! And then when I came out and they were okay, but then my mom told me that "I should start considering the rest of the family" and "stop pushing my sexuality on people." And when my brother asked me, "Why can you just be gay, why do you have to do all these gay things?" God, you know they're right. No one ever talks about their opposite-sex partners, or assumes hetrosexuality, so I really shouldn't talk about being gay at all. I should just never talk about this huge part of me, ever, because that's just pushing it on other people.

They were there for me through all the easy stuff. My family raised me and dealt with the terrible twos and me becoming a teenager but when it came to the things that really hurt, I got left to deal with it by myself. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I`m going to go back to bed.

Incriments of Progress (to where?)

I've been getting the silent treatment for three days and it makes me so, so angry. I'm pretty sure I'm angry anyways, because really it just makes me cry.

I know I don't do anything! I know I barely move and I don't help out and I don't talk or do anything but sleep but what else can I do? I can't make my body or my brain do what I want and I'm so sad and so desperate and why can't they see that? I want them to be able to see that...or at least, believe it. I know they don't think it's real or anything but it's real to me! I don't know what else to do.

My Fucking Depressed-ness - written 09/14/07

Someone, please save me from this misery! My body tires after simply sitting up and it seems I cannot do anything but alternate sweating and shaking. I long to rip out this hair for it tortures me- it’s attraction to dirt and it’s unruly mess of strands that refuse to lie straight and bearable. There is nothing for me to do while even the daylight is too bright and watching television only causes my head to ache more- too many lights, too many pictures all moving so fast I’ll vomit if I look much longer.

Even eating, which has been my bane and my trouble is difficult! Just thinking of consuming more than a spoonful of soup is enough to, (again) send the meagre contents of up stomach up again. I can feel the hunger, somewhat detached but there and I long to eat, to venture downstairs and scrounge up a meal but even if my body didn’t revolt at the thought it wouldn’t be able to make the trip.

I want to move faster than a snail, oh, to be able to speak without tiring! Yet every painful move I’ve made is utterly useless in the eyes of my parents, for I do too little and I do it wrong. Don’t they see that even laying on my bed is tiresome and uncomfortable, even though I have never slept so long and so deeply in my life. They continue to yell and act sullenly at me but don’t they realize that I want nothing more than to stop being this way? The way they are acting hurts me as much as I try to deny that. All this slamming and silence is just fodder for this alternative part of myself to feed on.

And still my mind continues to pain me with its complete inability to function. On and on it rambles and sighs about my shortcomings and my faults, never ceasing or faltering. I can feel it, all through my body. My limbs seize and then lay limp and my torso feels as if it will burn through my skin. I have no future! I’ve ruined my past! My present is sheer miserable existence, with nothing to do but move lethargically from one bed to another! I try to resist it but my mind speaks the truth and I know I’ve failed at everything I ever tried to do, I’ve crushed any hope of the future I had dreamed of and now I am a waste of consciousness. (God, even the tiny bit of food I had today is clamouring to come back up.) I am desperate for anything to end this complete horror and I’ll get it! I’ll either be free from this or dead and I’m not sure which is the better for I know I have no life waiting for me but more misery and more vomiting and I hate it I hate it I hate it! WHO CURSED ME WITH THIS LIFE!?

PS: And someone please tell this hideous intruder to STOP ORDERING ME AROUND!!! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!! OUT!!!
PPS: I’m not joking about this! I may have written this in uptight language but I mean it! THIS IS TOO MUCH! THIS IS TOO PAINFUL AND TOO CONSTANT AND TOO HORRIBLE!!! MAKE IT STOP!!!!

My Fucking Depressed-ness

Someone, please save me from this misery! My body tires after simply sitting up and it seems I cannot do anything but alternate sweating and shaking. I long to rip out this hair for it tortures me- it’s attraction to dirt and it’s unruly mess of strands that refuse to lie straight and bearable. There is nothing for me to do while even the daylight is too bright and watching television only causes my head to ache more- too many lights, too many pictures all moving so fast I’ll vomit if I look much longer.

Even eating, which has been my bane and my trouble is difficult! Just thinking of consuming more than a spoonful of soup is enough to, (again) send the meagre contents of up stomach up again. I can feel the hunger, somewhat detached but there and I long to eat, to venture downstairs and scrounge up a meal but even if my body didn’t revolt at the thought it wouldn’t be able to make the trip.

I want to move faster than a snail, oh, to be able to speak without tiring! Yet every painful move I’ve made is utterly useless in the eyes of my parents, for I do too little and I do it wrong. Don’t they see that even laying on my bed is tiresome and uncomfortable, even though I have never slept so long and so deeply in my life. They continue to yell and act sullenly at me but don’t they realize that I want nothing more than to stop being this way? The way they are acting hurts me as much as I try to deny that. All this slamming and silence is just fodder for this alternative part of myself to feed on.

And still my mind continues to pain me with its complete inability to function. On and on it rambles and sighs about my shortcomings and my faults, never ceasing or faltering. I can feel it, all through my body. My limbs seize and then lay limp and my torso feels as if it will burn through my skin. I have no future! I’ve ruined my past! My present is sheer miserable existence, with nothing to do but move lethargically from one bed to another! I try to resist it but my mind speaks the truth and I know I’ve failed at everything I ever tried to do, I’ve crushed any hope of the future I had dreamed of and now I am a waste of consciousness. (God, even the tiny bit of food I had today is clamouring to come back up.) I am desperate for anything to end this complete horror and I’ll get it! I’ll either be free from this or dead and I’m not sure which is the better for I know I have no life waiting for me but more misery and more vomiting and I hate it I hate it I hate it! WHO CURSED ME WITH THIS LIFE!?

PS: And someone please tell this hideous intruder to STOP ORDERING ME AROUND!!! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!! OUT!!!
PPS: I’m not joking about this! I may have written this in uptight language but I mean it! THIS IS TOO MUCH! THIS IS TOO PAINFUL AND TOO CONSTANT AND TOO HORRIBLE!!! MAKE IT STOP!!!!

Pre-Post-Partum

Okay, I blogged last time about postpartum depression, but my biggest fear is actually...

INFERTILITY.

First of all, I'm a lesbian. I recognize that it would be pretty hard for me to get pregnant you know...without intending to. But I know should I get pregnant, I would keep the baby. I would probably consider open adoption, but I know deep in my heart I would never be able to give up this child.

I want to experience a pregnancy.

I want to have a child grow in my and to have my lover feel my rounded tummy and have trouble hugging me in bed and to have a baby.

I am so, so scared.

That Old Feeling

Dread.

I have been learning, (and trying) to stay in the moment. To stop worrying about what's going to happen in a week, month, year...but I really want to get this down.

I'm really, really scared of postpartum depression. And on a shorter time-line, winter. I'm really, really scared of winter.

See, you all know that I have always wanted to have kids. Even when I was in that I-want-to-be-a-nun phase I knew I wanted to have kids. With someone. (At that point, I didn't know what kind of someone I wanted to be with, I just knew it wasn't going to be a guy.) And even when I did know who I wanted to be with I knew we'd have children together, and I would carry the kid.

Then I knew that I would have to fight against the (main)stream, as well as have to find some way to get pregnant once I did, and once I found the love of my life.

And now I'm also scared to have the kid! I know there's a lot of fear in me, and a lot of fear that I've let go of. But I'm afraid to give birth to a child, a child I know I'll love so much that it'll hurt, that I'll want to hold and take care of and breast feed and be with and when that time comes around I'll be too depressed to do anything. What if I can't do it?

Same goes for the winter. It's grade 12 and I have to do well, but what if I go really really deep down again? I don't want to...it's just really really scary.

Hillary Clinton on Ellen

Of course y`all know that I LOOOVE to watch Ellen. Season Five of the Ellen Degeneres Show, (TEDS) opens up in New York, with Hillary Clinton up as the first guest. Watch the first video to see Ellen ask the Big Question on MY mind and hers.

Hillary Clinton on the Ellen Degeneres Show - Part 1
Uploaded by ellenhillaryvid

Queerty gets it right when it tells us that it`s great to see Ellen talking about queer issues. It`s been tough for Ellen after she came out- let`s take a quick tour of the past ten years.
1. Ellen Comes Out
2. Ellen`s sitcom character comes out with her
3. Ellen`s sitcom is stuck with a warning label on several episodes.
4. The sitcom is criticized for being too gay, and taken off the air.
5. Ellen disappears for a bit, re-emerging to pilot The Ellen Show, which never really got off the ground.
6. Ellen disappears again, but rumours that she`s going to do a talk show circulate.
7. The Ellen DeGeneres Show starts and continue to get rave reviews, but the gay community wonders, `Where`s gayEllen?"

So obviously it would be pretty difficult for our best girl to talk about being gay- first she`s too gay, then not gay enough, then too gay, then not gay enough, and finally in Season Four of TEDS her viewers saw more and more gay references.

In the fourth season Ellen talks to T.R. Knight about slurs on the set. Knight definitely respected Ellen as a pioneer for queer visibility, and sought out more guidance then she could offer while on camera.

Now Ellen comes out again, (those of us in the community know what an ongoing process coming out is) to Senator Clinton. Ellen expresses the need for same-sex couples to have the same rights as heterosexual couples. (Watch the saga of Kerry Weaver in ER to see this problem in action.) Watch the video and tell me what you think about it.

Why I love my Aminals.

There's a letter sized sign on my door, right next to the Positive Space one I printed off. It reads, "Welcome to Guyzeeland." We now have a population of 189, 190 including myself in our area. I explain our large family to people simply by telling them that I was a lonely child.

While this was true, I think it warrants a better explanation. Like how my brother stopped at sixty children and I stopped at...well, I haven't stopped yet. You see, we're a good family! We all love each other, and sometimes we argue, and sometimes the wait period for surgery grows and people get antsy, but all in all we're a wonderful family.

We can rely on each other. When I don't feel like talking to anyone I can just talk to them. And I don't even have to speak out loud, because we're all telepathically connected! Even though sometimes they don't get it, someone in the family will. And there's always someone to hug, when I don't want to hug a human.

And now, we'd really, really like to eat.

I am feeling anger.

There is an ugly clothes hamper in my room. I have several library books to return that are all different sizes. The vacuum is broken. I don't have curtains. THERE ARE MANY THINGS AROUND ME THAT ARE NOT PARALLEL.

I am going to try not to throw this ugly clothes hamper at a person. I am going to hold on to my library books until tomorrow morning. I will wait until the vacuum is fixed to make my nice vacuum lines. I will fix this makeshift curtain until I can purchase normal ones. I will keep writing even though I want to SCREAM and THROW and DESTROY everything in my room that is not clean and orderly.

I will try to relax without doing stupid things. I will try to relax...

She was Beautiful.

She took her own life, did you know that? They didn’t want anyone to know, so the answer always was, “a sudden loss.” Sudden. She was dying for years and no one noticed except me. I knew because she told me. Matter-of-a-factly one day she just looked me in the eye and told me that she was dying. At first I thought she had a disease or some kind of pre-teen ‘dying of a broken heart’ thing but it turns out she was serious. I realized that, after a point. I noticed from afar, (we were friends only in front of each other at the time) after she told me, all the pained looks she had on her face in between people. I guess no one else was looking.

“Why are you doing this?” I’d asked her once. School had just started for another year and we felt the breath of autumn on our backs, and she’d called to ask me if I wanted to touch its’ heart. I had no idea what she was saying until she translated that into, ‘want to go to the park?’

She turned to me, straggly pieces of hair stuck up in the wind. “I didn’t ask for this,” she whispered.

“Can’t you make it stop?” although I knew well enough that she couldn’t. I couldn’t either.

“I can’t stop it for either one of us.” She took a skip forward, her pale fingers dancing over the air and faced me, dead on. “I wish I could, you know that right?”

“I know. I’m not all stupid man/boy.”

“More like boy/man!” and she laughed, that laugh that haunts me because I can hear it now. I can tell.

So we kept going on like that. Moments of eloquence followed by a shallow struggle to pull out of the awkward moments we created. Or she did, I was always unnerved by the way she got straight to the point. No ambling.

She called herself, “less than ordinary.”

She prayed for fifteen years then noticed she didn’t think anyone was there.

She forced me to make promises, and I did the same to her.

She stared in the mirror and saw nothing.

I’m telling you the truth. It wasn’t a sudden death. It wasn’t quick, it wasn’t painless. She was my beautiful, my silent and I don’t know exactly when it happened. It must have been years ago. But to everyone else, it was two nights ago, at 2:47 in the morning and they all thought, “what a shame” when they saw her lying there. I’m ashamed.

-written march, 2006.

Water

I know I've blogged about this before... probably a few times. My brother is having a party downstairs and I know that's kind of a trigger for me, so I was glad when my dad told me to ask a few people to come over too. No one ended up coming or calling or anything, so Bunny and I watched a few movies and ate carrots. Well, she ate her Everlasting Carrot and I had a hamburger.

I really hate this about me. That I'm so sensitive to stuff like that, that it can affect me so much. It is so easy to make me feel sad- hell, even if the characters in the books I read are sad, I become sad. The first time I read the Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime I started speaking choppy and very literally. (The second time I read it I took on the British mannerisms of Christopher and his supporting characters.) Sometimes that's fun though.

Anyways, I've been feeling kind of shit lately. I don't know why...I have a solid, realistic plan for school, I have an amazing job, I have great friends, I have my aminals, I'm out, I'm open about my MI's, and because I come home so late from work and my brother was having this party, he actually cleaned the house. I love it when it's vacuumed. I remember one Christmas I would vacuum the entire house at least three times a day...mmm...cleanliness....

I'm totally on my meds. I'm actually about to dole out my week's worth in my little green container, (did you know they make it in pink and purple? Those are my favourite popsicle colours!) so you KNOW I'm staying on them. I even have my green stripy cup to match so I can take them right away.

I want to be doing more with my life. That's completely crazy, considering that I sleep 12 hours a day. (Hey! We're down from 14! Yay!) But I want to sew Big Bunny, since she's only surviving on a lot of safety pins right now. I'd sew her on the bus if she wasn't so...big... I want to be volunteering at RVC, since I've gotten so much from the hospital. I want to be getting posters and pamphlets to start off for Speak.

This hurts so much...I don't know why...I want it to go away so badly but I know beggars can't be choosers. (I've heard that three times at Griffin in the past week.) At least I feel good sometimes, instead of just shit all the time.

G'night y'all.

aHA!

Yesterday, or quite recently, I blogged about how it's weird that I'm getting better but I feel a little out of control. (To be more precise, more self-destructive.)

I got it! I'm FEELING MORE. It's been a long time since I've felt anything but self-hatred, irritation, and extreme depression. After my last episode, I felt almost nothing. Just numb. And NOW, I'm feeling angry/sad/happy and apart from having to learn what to do with those emotions, I'm also learning just to feel them again. Usually when I feel the slightest hint of anything, I'd just go straight to self-destruct to make it go away, but I don't want this to go away.

It's been years since I felt things like this, and it's horrible.

It's not really horrible. I mean, this is what I've wanted, to feel something. To feel happy and sad sometimes.

I think I have to come back to this, it's all so new!

Doing The Gay Thing

Someone asked me, "Why? Why can't you just be..." after I had told an endearing story about a PO Box and The Advocate.

Why can you just be gay? Do you really have to do this Pride/Curve/Ellen thing?

I asked myself this question a lot a little while ago, when I was trying to figure out what everyone, "in the community" was doing and trying to do it too. I thought, "Do I have to do all this gay stuff? Can't I just be gay?" And of course I can! I can do whatever the hell i want!

But I want to be a part of this community. I love that I'm working with the Compass group at the Griffin Centre now, I love that I've got the Speak thing going, I love that this is who I am and I'm living it. At some point, I realized I'm not "doing the gay thing."

Come on. Would you, my probably straight reader, want to read a magazine all about how to pick up the best lesbian? Where all the great gay bars are? NO! That's not interesting to you at all! And reading about how to ask out a guy and impress the other sex doesn't interest me. There is no such thing as the "gay thing," I'm just reading and doing and participating in things that interest me.

I think it took that question to realize that although I tried very hard to figure out things like Xtra and the Index and OurChart and stuff like that, (and learning how to say the 5-19 instead of the five-hundred-nineteen church street community centre) I was just learning about myself, and finding things I'm interested in.

I AM just being gay.

I don't get it....

Right now, I really want to be writing in my diary but that's not going to happen. With the normal stress of June Rush usually comes a wave of anxiety, followed shortly by a shit load of OCDness. One of my compulsions is writing really perfectly, but it`s just not practical. So I`ve been typing my exams and really hesitating to write anything down, since it`s so frustrating and slow. I don`t know what`s with me. I`m so much better now...I`m feeling things that I haven`t felt in years and years. Like anger, I haven`t felt something that sharp and loud in forever so when I felt it again my first thought was actually, `What the fuck am I supposed to do with this feeling?" Then I promptly turned around and swore at the assholes talking behind me.

But even though I'm feeling things like being NORMAL sad and NORMAL happy, not the extremes of either one there are still moments...no, there are more moments when I really want to revert to my old, self-destructive ways. It's so scary to have this now and feel like this, almost terrifying. I'm more scared now than I was when I wanted to kill myself...although then, I was really just happy that I'd found a way out.

Is this is way I normally am? When I first started on the pills I wondered if I'd have any idea who I was without depression or anxiety, and I'm quite sure I don't.

Tonight at dinner I was eating my rice in a square, carefully pushing each grain into my little square of rice and trying to get the last mini grains onto my fork because you CAN'T LEAVE THEM THERE, (I also find it weird that sometimes that matters so much to me, and other times not at all) and my family was all, "You're just fucking around!" because they wanted me to get more soup. There's the anger again, and Dr. G said...I'm going to go bike.

Christ in Me

Literally, because I took Eucharist today for the first time in about a year. Y'all know I go to the United Church now, and today was a Eucharist Mass. (They only have it once a month.) Now, this is my fourth time going to Ebeneezer, and the first mass I hadn't had a panic attack for many, many months. I am glad to say I did NOT start hyperventilating today, but I didn't freak out a little when they came up with the bread and the wine. (Err...the bread and the juice.)

I stopped taking Communion when I started accepting my mood disorders and my queerness, and rejecting the Church`s rejection. I kind of...well, I get this feeling that the Catholic church really controls everything, the secular AND the sacred. So for some reason, I stayed away from Communion. Because they can revoke it, and it didn't seem like something about Jesus, it was more of a thing they could take away.

So today I just stayed in my seat, and then Billie came and tugged me up and I said that I wasn't in a state of grace, and she said we didn't have to be! And that it was okay! That we were all welcome to take Communion! And she taught me how to do it in a United Church, and afterwards I was crying. I have never felt so welcome at a Church in my entire life. People don't judge you, they don't tsk tsk when you turn around...god, I was afraid of turning around to watch people come down the aisle until someone told me it was okay.

But it was amazing. To be welcome to that again? To have people not care that I'm gay or dealing with mental illness. But it was also saddening that this experience had to be had... and that it matters so much. I will always be saddened by that, I think.

On Account of Homophobia

Let me tell you a story.

Today Pauline and I were at Timmy's after stopping by the library, talking about religion and the schisms, and how it was so weird that Henry VIII wanted a divorce so he create a whole 'nother religion... when these pleasant people who were sitting next to us asked us what we thought fundamentalism was. So we stuttered through answering that we just studied it and hmmm...it is...it's...hold on, we'll get it...uhh...anyways, they started talking about how it's great that we've accepted Jesus into our lives, (because we told them we went to Catholic school) and that Jesus doesn't take away all hardship, but rather guides us through it to pleasure and happiness. So eventually they mentioned marrying a guy...and of course, I had to wonder, "What if I don't want to marry a man?" and eventually got to saying that I'm gay, whereupon they told me that Jesus still loves me, but he doesn't love my lifestyle. And that they cannot accept someone being gay, and that I am living a life of sin and I must pray for Jesus to save me and that would pray for me...and I said that I accept who I am and whom I love, but thank you anyways, and I left.


So first I was a little shocked. I've had a few encounters like this before, but I was one guy saying, "God hates people like you" and then ignoring me, and some other people just ignoring me, this was a little bit more painful. Because they BELIEVED it, because they thought that I was sinful for loving, because they really in their hearts were going to pray that I got past "that."

Another thing is that they said, "Jesus still loves you." I didn't think there was any question of it! I know He loves me! Or like when people say, "Oh, it's okay." I didn't think there was a problem, or that it ISNT okay. Maybe I'm just really touchy. For a moment there I thought that I was ASKING it, by coming out to those people, but I realize, I'm not being OVERTLY GAY, I'm just being out. Being myself. Do you ever tell someone they're being OVERTLY STRAIGHT? Exactly. This bothers me.

This is the important stuff.

I finally found it in me to stop lying. You all know I've had trouble with the Catholic Church, eventually leaving it and ceasing all activity there. Last week I went to the United Church about two minutes away from my house, because it was a more open and accepting community. What I found was definitely accepting. Everyone was so welcoming and so nice, and I didn't feel as if I had to hide any part of me.

Last week I also became out to my parents.

Mainly, I'd been in the closet to make sure my parents didn't find out. Once they knew, (and I'd rather not go into that) I didn't see a reason to stay there. You see, I've already dealt with stigma. Racism when I was younger, and mental illness more recently. I hid my depression and anxiety for two years. TWO YEARS I was going to the hospital every week, dealing with it by myself because my family didn't want to acknowledge it. I know what it's like to hide. After I was able to become open about my struggles I knew I'd be able to talk about being gay.

I recognize that there will be problems. After all, mental illness isn't SUCH a hot button topic, and there were still issues there. I am ready and willing to talk to you if you want to, but please keep an open mind. I know that I have always been this way. I know some of my past was experimenting, to make sure that I am. (Not that those experiences are any less important to me now.) I know God still loves me, and that I have a right to have and do everything straight people do.

I know I have to watch out. I hesitated before putting Mental Health Day on my updated resume, and I will hesitate before I put the things I'm going to do on it later. There will be discrimination and fear, but I am who I am. I cannot change, I will not be ashamed. I hate that I have to even fight for this, for equality in so many ways but I will.

I'm going to go to the admin at Mary Ward soon and inform them of my intentions of starting a new group at school, named Speak for now. Click here for the Mission Statement. Note I did not say that I would ask for permission. We have a legal right to host any club as long as it complies with the law within our school. It is for everyone. For those who want to help, for gay, straight, trans, mentally ill, mentally healthy, discriminated against, advocates for, and all youth who want to make change. Join me, for this is our society to make a difference in.

To catch up on things...

There's a lot I want you guys to know. First, the mundane stuff.

Today is May 21st. Last day to submit unit with test is May 31st. I have about 30 units to complete and I swear to God, I WILL finish them. I will give up EATING until I get HUNGRY AGAIN. I will do units on my break at work. I will do units at the clinic. I will do units on the bus, on my lap, at family parties, (but not at the wedding) and in the car.

I admit, I will definitely get distracted. The weather is beautiful, I feel like shopping, and I have just met some very amazing people. But I must finish my courses. Shortman- I probably won't be talking as much. Stranger - I know I haven't been talking as much, so now I'm probably just going to make a lot of high pitched noises. JR - RAWWWWWWWKKK!!! quack-neigh. Pau and Christine - You will probably be the people I get distracted the most by. Tsk tsk.

I will also admit that I do have higher priorities than units. My health will always be first, and if I feel that I need to take some time to keep myself from getting into a dangerous state of mind I will take it. If I feel that I am pushing myself too hard to do too much and that could result in some serious repercussions, I will slow down. It took me a long time to recognize that I must ignore the guilty feelings when I take care of myself. I would rather be alive than done my courses. And I would like to stay wanting to be alive. I know my limits, and I'm not crossing them.

My Daemon

Kat's Debut

What can I do with this fire?

I'm a a little over two weeks away from my 17th birthday, which is pretty insignificant compared to last year. I'm already old enough to drive, old enough to emancipate myself, and old enough to...be too lazy to get my license. But the one thing that's important about turning 17 is that I have to start preparing for my debut. Yea, us Filipino's are completely nuts. Kat Is Becoming A Woman.



So for all of you who don't know what a debut is, it's pretty much a coming-of-age for a Filipino girl. It's similar to the Jewish Bat Mitzvah, the Spanish Quinceañera, the white girl's sweet sixteen, and the brown girls...menarche. There's some ceremony, one of them being cotillion, where the girl's friends perform dances. Mostly they're traditional Filipino dances and ballroom. The other ceremony is 18 Candles and 18 Roses, where the girl is presented with...18 candles and roses by her friends and family. Men give the roses, women give the candles.

I wasn't sure if I wanted a debut or not...I can just imagine everyone going nuts near May even without dance rehearsals and stuff, but my Lolo and Lola have always dreamt of my debut. Apparently for Filipino boys it's 21, but I don't think we did anything special for my brother. So I have a lot of questions...

1. Do you want to be a dancer? Please, please say yes! I have like, nine girls, and none of us can dance.
2. Do you want to be an 18 Candles/Roses person? Please, please say yes! I have...my cousins are all really old, and I don't really want to be giving 3 year olds candles.
3. Should I have a head-table? I don't like the idea of sitting above everyone, or being stared at. But my friends want one. I was going to just have a table for us, but I'm not sure.
4. What should be the theme? I'm all for a Sea Otter or Jellyfish theme, but my mom wants spring. Maybe I'll compromise and be Groundhog. You know, groundhogs come out in spring and all.

SERIOUSLY, I need help. I was never big on the debut thing, but I'm getting kind of into it. I just don't know what to do!!!

Mental Health Day

All in all, I'm a little bit glad that I missed out on FLUID this week because I wouldn't have had enough time to freak out over MHD. I would have been freaking out over several things, and honestly my brain doesn't have the space for all that shit. I've managed to push away a lot of that fear and anxiety, at least the unfounded fear and anxiety, and I'm not very well equipped to deal with that much of it. I've got tools to deal with it, but gosh, that was SCARY! Even the night before I surrounded myself with my aminals because it was sinking it. We'd been planning MHD for months, but the idea of telling my story, one I'd hid for a long time in front of people I was afraid of was pretty scary.

When I got to school my first thought was- I have to go to TA. So I went to TA and then I put my stuff in my locker and went to the library and changed my clothes and gave Morrison those Myths about Mental Illness sheets and took a seat. And remembered to breathe. (I actually think that Ms Morrison reminded me to do that.) I think I fidgeted a lot. Mr. Francis showed up and WHA, that was cool! The talk Mary-Anne gave was pretty engaging, but I think I was too nervous to really stop moving.

The break came...I really stopped breathing then until I had stopped running around in circles and was helping Ashley set up the conference room chairs. Here, I had a peer who was about to do the same thing and I think I took heart from him. The teachers really helped too, gosh, that was scary. But they helped me get settled and ready and that was really important. I was completely winging it, but it felt right after a little while. Still nervous, still doing that thing where I make jokes when I'm feeling awkward, but right. When Val and Vae started talking though, I really wished I didn't smile at all the wrong times because I felt like crying. My friends have supported me when I didn't have anyone to talk to without making an appointment, and they supported me even when I did. They are not obligated, they are not condemned if they don't help, but they do it anyways. And no matter when happens in my life, I will never forget the amazing love and friendship they gave to me when I felt I had nothing left but a handful of pills.

The second group was better. I passed around more of my stuff and talked about all the things I'd forgotten about in the first one, and it still tugged at my heart to hear Val and Vae.

Nonetheless, it was a huge relief when lunch came. Did anyone know the caf made such awesome food? Still want some of that pasta, amazing pasta. It felt really weird talking to all those adults though. Just goes to show you, I really have to stop hanging out with toddlers, because all I could think of to say was things about how cute my nieces and nephews are and how I "don't get it." Seriously, grown-ups are a different species.

Dr. Berber was cool. He was very different from any other speaker I'd seen, and I think Mary Ward makes a point of arranging for unique speaking styles. His mnemonics were pretty useful actually, I'm trying to find a website or something where those are listed but I'm just finding a lot of articles citing him as a resource. If anyone finds it, can you tell me? It was good.

Although it really was a roller coaster day, (and all those people who met my gr8 teacher in the first group know I don't like roller coasters!) it was very freeing. No more hiding.

Vlog Number Thirteen

Post 101!!!

Google my House!

Google My House!

The newest search tool from Google is designed to target even the laziest of teenagers. It's called Google my house! and it's the biggest internet phenomenon since YouTube and virtual packing bubbles. (Internet Videos and Stress Helpers.)

The newest Google enables you to search the contents of your house, and their locations after a quick scan. Google sends a small leprechaun through your Internet Connection which then appraises your goods and continues to mark any changes in your house. Then you can easily search for anything on your property through the internet wizard. Here are some search functions we loved at Power of What.

Find: textbooks+paper+unit guides+units+lunch+drink+weed into schoolbag.
Find: schoolbag.
This search query finds the items listed above and follows the instruction, "into" to pack your bag for you. Another quick flick of the wrist and your packed bag is by your side. You can even break it down to find the components of your lunch and put them together, if you use the right terms.

Find: hard liqueur+shot glass
Lose: parental supervision
This handy "lose" function is great for us!

Find: functional family
Unfortunately, we found a tiny glitch. After inputting this search query, we recieved this message.
"SYNTAX ERROR: SEARCHED ITEM DOES NOT EXIST. Contact leprechaun for further assistance."
We've learned to expect a lot from google, but I think that pushed the limits.

Anyways, with this great new addiction- sorry- addition to the google family, we're sure to become a much more obese nation. Can I google Timmy's?

A Streetcar Named Desire

That's right, we finally made it. Grade 11 drama is a lot of work, but it's a lot of fun too! Below...the cast for Scene 7 and 8.
Stanley Kowalski - Matt G
Blanche DuBois - Pauline D
Stella Kowalski - Kat Y
A real cake, real candles, REAL BROKEN CUPS. Even though we took forever memorizing lines and it was...really...awkward in rehearsal, that was the REAL SHIT out there! Matt was really pissed, and alternately quite loving, and Blanche was the crazy bitch we knew she really was. My darling sister! (Did anyone else feel bad when she went to the asylum?)

I'm having a lot of trouble writing this, so I'm going to go to sleep again.

Awwww....I love this commercial.

Sleep-Speak

I've been sleeping like a koala. Which is nothing new, I mean even before the new stuff I'd been pretty much a 16-hour girl. I really hate that sometimes he says it could just be my sleep cycle, because honestly I don't know anyone else who sleeps this much. Normally. You know, someone without mental health issues. I've actually gone out wearing my pajama's a few times this week, just because I cannot get out of my bed. And once I'm out, I'm not out for long, so why bother changing?

Tuesday was the usual. I had one of those stupid appointments where you have one and then another one 1 1/2 hours later, so I used my time to explore. Turns out there wasn't much that I hadn't covered except the first floor, which I had an inexplicable fear of. IT WAS AWESOME. I found the Tunnel to Shoniker, which is yellow and ugly, but functional. I found the swimming pool, for physio, and the other lobby, and these boring offices that I don't think I was supposed to go into. Whatever. I didn't find the other piano though...maybe I misunderstood him.

Here's the fun part- semi formal! (Hence, the picture above.) Val and I got all sexy and straight-haired and make-upped and dressed-up. When we got there it was all white-food and we were all white-dancing but it was okay, because we had FUN! It was pretty cool actually, I thought it'd be a little lonely but it wasn't.

Here's the BIG NEWS- Jump the Gun is off and running! Pauline and I have been meeting with Morrison and Ireland for a little while, so things are really happening. For y'all blog readers, I know you don't have any idea with JTG is, so here's a quick summary:

Jump The Gun is an in-school initiative with a focus on VOICE. We believe in speaking up to achieve change in a peaceful yet meaningful manner. Using our voices and our words, we believe that we can amend what people believe has to be, to what can be. We believe in an active lifestyle of advocating acceptance. Who people are makes no difference, but what they do can change the world. What a beautiful world it can be, if we only step up, speak up, and make a difference.

Hey, I said it would be quick. And now my font is different and it's bothering me. BE STRONG KAT, BE STRONG!!! We're doing a big kickoff with a Mental Health Day for Ireland's IDC students. Yours truly will be hosting a workshop herself. I'm pretty proud of myself, but I'm afraid the realities of mental illness are going to eat at this. (Excessive sleeping, low mood, changed appetites, etc?) I mean, it's all well and good to do something awesome like this, but it's a completely different cricket game when you're doing it with mental illness.

I'm happy to save I've found a place at school for myself. I was always a little bit jealous of my brother, having all these people who still remember him, (I've been called Eric a few times, which is weird, because even if I don't look like a girl I DO have breasts and he doesn't.) I didn't have anyone to remember me. I think I do now, and that really makes a difference. Just today I was remembering how I used to hate the walls at Ward when I first started going there...but now, they make up the walls of my home. It's not always safe, and it's not always pleasant, but it's another home.

Alright guys, I'm going to head off to sleep. G'night.

Enclosed

I haven't vlogged in a while...my webcam is still being very cruel, and then the holidays rolled around and I got stuck in it like an elephant into a katamari ball.

I've been working like crazy- I logged 30 hours last week, which was NUTS. Considering 10 or 15 is perfectly fine for me, 30 is crazy. Just 15+ this week, which is good. I did some rearranging of my room- I know! My bed is no longer in my closet! And it's TINY, but trust me, much better now. Soon I will have my ekorre.

At least that's one thing that didn't cost me any money. Holiday's mean SPENDING and for a thrifty girl like me that means dollar store+glue gun+sewing machine+stickers+meat loaf pans= Christmas!

The things you can do with a meat loaf pan are ridiculous.

You know how pregnant woman are always holding their tummies, like to reassure themselves that the baby's still in there? I've been doing that a lot, but it's more of checking to see if the fats still there. I feel gross.

I haven't gone out at all yet for Christmas, other than family functions and work. Unfortunately, that DOESN'T...you know what? I'm tired. I'm going to go.

Vlog Number Ten

I hesitated to make this, just because it would go over my last vlog, but I dunno...just don't forget the message from V#9. Here's me again...

Vlog Number Nine - Love Is...

The message in this video is important to me. It's something I've never understood- racism, sexism, all of that stuff happens because people are different. Although gay people may be different from us, they love. So many people don't love and yet they hate this. It doesn't make sense to me.

what's going on here? (aka the post with names)

You know how teachers lean over your shoulder when you're clearly not working and say, "What's going on here ladies?" I feel like I should be saying that to myself. I think, with enough work I'll be able to lean over my own shoulder. But I'm keeping my physiotherapist on speed dial. ("Hey Dr Ho? Yea. It's me again.") Half the time I don't know what my brain is doing. Yea, I know, I've been talking about my brain and mind like a seperate entity from myself for a while now. But I feel that way. They just decide like some kind of weird Kat's brain/mind meeting and I get filled in later . And not even the whole way.

And I've been so open about it. I mean, papers lying around, wordless smiles, everything. I've become a lot more open- like all of you know now that I've got a few mental disorders, and it was such a relief to not have to hide it. Sometimes I talk about it with a bitter voice- like, "Yea, well it's just this pesky clinical depression eating at my heart!" and I must admit, I am kind of bitter. I wonder why it had to be me, why it had to come at a time where people still hold a stigma against mental illness. I can see the change now. A few decades ago, if I had told all of you guys I had OCD, you probably would have chucked me in an institution. Hell, the school would have chucked me in an institution. It means so much to me that you accepted that, and that you guys are trying to understand how difficult it is.


That is something I'm not confused about. (One of the few things.) I have a decisive label there. Although it's definately a bad idea to label people, I do kind of like the simplicity of it. It's not so complicated when it can be summarized in one phrase. "Mentally ill." "Non-Catholic." "Hungry." It's not simple at all, but sometimes...it's nice to be, just for a little while. But there is so much I want to know. I'm not talking about quadratic equations or trig or shit like that, but about myself. How can I grow up to help other people if I cannot help myself? (Well obviously I can't right now...but...eventually?) I want to be sure. I want to have a label so when I'm out there, I know what I am. I know who I am.



I'm glad I have so many people to love. So many people who love me back. go9.5, you guys support me through so much. Y'all one letter teachers help me sort things out without having to make an appointment. My doctors are definately huge in my support system. My parents are big too, especially my daddy. Karl, you take care of me so well. You know what I need and what I want and the difference, and you have been there for me in so many ways. Pau, you let me be myself without treating me any different, and you've been there for me throughout all the shit. Christine, you've accepted me for who I am, and were there to show support and go trick or treating. Val, you GUESSED at so many things and after those guesses, you treated me normally too. You helped me sort things out and know when I don't have to yet.

See? No codenames this post.

All of you, in some way or another have helped me get by. Jess, Michelle, Vivian, Vanessa, Big Bunny, Regular Bunny, Pauline, Karl, Dr. G, Larry, Mr Candi, Mr F, Mr D, Dr. Peter, Mommy, Daddy, Tito Joe, Janice, the other Mr F kinda, Richard, Melissa, and chocolate. Some just by hearing my story, or bits of it, and not judging or yelling, "UNCLEAN, UNCLEAN!!!" Or whatever people yell for that. Some by talking to me about it, some by sharing their own stories, and all of you for being my friends. Cheers, to friendship.

Vlog Number Eight

Vlog Number Seven

Our Sins

I'm no longer going to Church. I do not feel that I can practise my faith in a community where women are not equal to men, where mental illness is percieved as a result of sin, where men attack boys in opposition to their vows of chastity. Of their vow to live as holy people. Not only that, but the core of Catholocism does not run freely in my heart. I believe Jesus was a wise man, but not the son of God. I believe God will protect us each in our own ways, in His way.

"Your homework is to learn to express yourself." Well, I'm expressing myself all right. I've been more pissed than ever- sometimes I'm just angry for no reason. But make no mistake- if I'm pissed at YOU, I'm pissed for a reason. Don't disregard it. I'm kind of glad I didn't have cognitive this week...Dr G has just unearthed the frustrating part of Treating Kat, and I don't think it would be have been the most fun session ever. Granted, they're hardly supposed to be fun... I wonder how the re-evaluation will turn out. Heh.

I'm so glad for my friends. You guys have been there for me in ways no one else has. It's so hard...I think go9.5 is the most dysfunctional group of people I've ever met, and yet we all try so hard to work out our own problems, as well as help each other. We are each other support systems. Except for chocolate and my Lolo and Lola, there is nothing I wouldn't give up to keep you guys. But if it came up to you vs. my Lolo and Lola, you know what my choice would be. I feel like you guys are my family, my sisters and brother, my soul.

Sometimes I'm so afraid it'll never end. Does the misery stop? Will a magic pill help me work again? I'm so desperate for it to stop. Do you know what it's like to only wish for death while trying to finish a unit? Or how difficult it is to breathe when I'm just thinking- just thinking, and my body seizes in fear. I can't stop it! There is nothing I want more than to be able to work. To be a useful part of my family and society. Don't you see that?

To Polygamist 1 or 2,
You are my sister in all the ways I can think of. If friends don't last forever, then let us be family and never leave each other behind. Ok?

Vlog Number Six and a PSA

Vlog Number Six


PSA

Strike

I, Aeriana Eve am on a strike.

I refuse to follow the plan.
I refuse to read the Steps to Success.
I refuse to put away my favourite pair of blue.
I refuse to continue doing things that that will hurt you.
I refuse to do things that will turn out better for me, and worse for you.
I refuse to turn away from God, but rather to continue putting my faith in Him.
I refuse to feel guilty about what I've done, but instead about how it affected you.
I refuse to go to church and worship a man I believe was wise, but not the son of God.

I'm sorry if I've hurt you, I really am.

Vlog Number Five

Vlog Number Four

Vlog Number Three

It's way more fun to video blog. So I'm going to vlog again, for the second day in a row.

Vlog Number Two

Vlog Number One

I will type no more. Until I get bored of vlogging. In which case, I will blog.

this heart of mine

PUZZLECADABRA.

I believe that's the word.
The magical word that'll fix everything.
Fix my brain,
Fix my faith,
Fix my heart.

It seems to be broken.
I can feel it beating in my stomach, that's not where it should be.
So I'll keep my hand there, to monitor it's beat.
To hope it doesn't crack again.

It hurts sometimes, this beating in my stomach.
There's beating in my head,
And I can't seem to make it stop.

Stop.

Go.

PUZZLECADABRA!!!!

rocketGIRL

Lost. Our souls, intertwined and ripped apart. By mine own hand I hath called the omniscent gardener to our hearts and pruned away the hold. Our pain, it bleeds by the stems, it drips from the heart of each flower.

I am a rocket girl. I fly around with no where to go but up and come zooming down as soon as it hit the atmosphere. Toss me high, let me fly, but make sure to catch me when I fall. You are my crash landing.

Don't let me go. Don't let go!

Stay with me on our journey. Don't let go when we're torn by the pain, destroyed and lost beyond finding even ourselves. Don't let me drown and I'll try to hold your head up high. We'll fly and dive and soar through this together, and be stronger in the end. It will come, just don't let go! Don't let me go, I'll hold you tight.

carryover is KILLING me

You know what they all say!!! If you want to ruin your school year, take carryover. And that's what I've done. It's complete hell I can't believe I'm doing gr10 and gr11 stuff at the same time. And while I'm trying to focus on my carryover courses so I can get them over with, I've still got the idea of chem and bio looming over my head. Not to mention my OTHER six courses.

The problem is, I STILL can't concentrate. It's like there are evil monkeys in my head pulling wires and ripping up neuron's. STOP DOING THAT!!! STOP!!! Goddamn monkeys...

So it's not only my work that's carried over, but the shit emotional state I was in last year, PLUS the whole September Rush thing! I've NEVER heard of September Rush but they should really tell people about that mentality when you do carryover. I didn't have a choice. It was carryover, or do gr10 math again this school year. I'd still take the carryover, even if it's driving me nuts.

Doing gr10 math would drive me even more nuts and then I'd just be so nutty that I'd get an anaphylactic reaction to myself. Augh!! AUGH!!! Why am I myself I'm getting HIVES...*cough*Cough*get me an epipen....

So I'm just saying. If you see me, and I look like there's a rabid racoon living in my room that attacks me while I'm working so that I have to run away so I don't get rabies, it's because there's a rabic racoon living in my room that attacks me while I'm working so that I have to run away so I don't get rabies.

God I hate school....even if I was starting off without carryover, I'd hate it still. Gr11 IS the hardest year.

-Racoon Girl, signing out.

sewing machine love

Video post linkage: http://aerianaeve.blogspot.com/2006/08/former-video-post.html
Ze links, zey chang-ed when ze post wez edited. Ay am so sowry. Really, I am.

I am about to ditch the "Tiny-Kat-Wears-Sack" to school look for one that favours...a stitch ripper. I just did my 3/4 sleeve dress shirt, although I did sew a sleeve on inside-out...however, it's a huge improvement otherwise. And I'm done pinning my kilt and golf shirt, all will be done tomorrow. I'm not sure about the other dress shirt, I might need an ugly one just in case. (*cough)lazy(*cough) Maybe later.

Pictures to post later, as well as my last two projects. (The inverted dress-shirt-jacket and the skirt.) I really just don't want people to think I'm a niner this year.

PS: I will bring back the BONK from it's elementary school grave if you guys don't start RSVP-ing for the picnic. And if those RSVP's don't read yes, contact me!!! I'll figure it out!!! The picnic and the Closing GO12 Dinner are the most important events (out of sixteen) that we've placed on the go12 calendar for August.

PPS: You want to know what the bonk is? Just ask the guys I made cry with it.

nighttime batting cages

-My brother taking on that evil machine.

Annual brother-sister outing to the cages, as always I decided to attack the....slowpitch softball. Whatever, that's what I can do, I'm happy with that. Tim's, (remember Tim POP-ers?) older brother took on Very Fast Baseball and actually made contact a few times. It was pretty awesome.

And it was fun because... I don't know. I was happy. Content, pleased just to sit and watch or whack a round. Without that hollow feeling that usually comes along with it...it was nice. It was really nice. Can you fault that? It's special enough to write about.

PS: If any of you are looking for pictures from events that I might have, feel free to request that I send them. I'm sending out all the pictures of the kids to my cousins now, that applies to my friends as well.

Bushisms

Picture from: http://www.citynoise.org/author/Jamie
We all have a curious affinity for Bush and the new ways he finds to screw up everyday. Inspired by a post on citynoise, I've collected a series of "Bushisms." Looks like it's back to the political humour.

"I think -- tide turning -- see, as I remember -- I was raised in the desert, but tides kind of -- it's easy to see a tide turn -- did I say those words?" --George W. Bush, asked if the tide was turning in Iraq, Washington, D.C., June 14, 2006
And even as students in his No Child Left Behind program are reading about tides and idioms and all this wonderful grammatical stuff, the president of the United States of America is unable to see the difference between a figurative tide and a literal one. Let's hope he knows how to swim.

"I would say the best moment of all was when I caught a 7.5 pound largemouth bass in my lake." --George W. Bush, on his best moment in office, interview with the German newspaper Bild am Sonntag, May 7, 2006
You see, Bush makes total sense here, because he does most of his work while sitting on his ass and watching his country go up in flames.

Wow! Brazil is big." --George W. Bush, after being shown a map of Brazil by Brazilian president Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva, Brasilia, Brazil, Nov. 6, 2005
I'm surprised he knows how to read a map. I'm sorry, I'm really lame today. I should go sleep again.

"We look forward to hearing your vision, so we can more better do our job. That's what I'm telling you." --George W. Bush, Gulfport, Miss., Sept. 20, 2005
And you need more better grammar. How the hell did you get into office? Twice?

"Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we." —Washington, D.C., Aug. 5, 2004
America, you have voted yourselves into good hands. Good, strong, sm--oh my god he's so stupid...

"The most important thing is for us to find Osama bin Laden. It is our number one priority and we will not rest until we find him." —Washington, D.C., Sept. 13, 2001
and then
"I don't know where bin Laden is. I have no idea and really don't care. It's not that important. It's not our priority." —Washington, D.C., March 13, 2002

"I'm the master of low expectations." —aboard Air Force One, June 4, 2003
Yea I can see that hun. So can the rest of the world. Sometimes I feel sorry he's so stupid...

"Do you have blacks, too?" —to Brazilian President Fernando Cardoso, Washington, D.C., Nov. 8, 2001
I don't know if this is funny or just ignorant. The idiot.

Yea I'm just going to stop. It's funny when I read it!! Nevermind nevermind...I'm gonna go look for candy...

the former video post

If you're looking for the video, it's not here. That's because I tried to embed it again and then I had to fix the html cuz it was screwing with my template and I was wayyyy too lazy to mess with that. Even though it's just changing the width...ugh...fine...I'll be right back. Wait a bit more...I'm streaming edge listen live...



Ok. There's your video. Comments please? Personally, I think Big Bunny is the real star of the show. I mean, her dialogue is awesome. Considering we just dubbed over the video after it was filmed. Anyways, watch out for the bum shot.

---

My goal is to NOT spend this summer inside. That only results in bad brain waves. Like how it's been for the last little while. I don't know, things are getting almost - normal. Is that bad? That something like this is normal? My home-away-from-home-away-from-home-away-from-home is-- secrecy. I like hiding. I can fit into corners really well. That explains the curtains around my bed, huh? It's my inner turtle. (Which we didn't end up getting for Candi and April's wedding- the everlasting turtle was $450 over our budget.) I wish that tree was our property. The city came and cut off my climbing branches. It was great for just sitting and...being thoughtless.

To be honest, I'm sick of hiding. I want to burst out of my sheer cucoon, I want to slash it to bits, I want it to end. I know you hear me, SM&kd. Will it? I...I'm not being very eloquent today. But I got another non-skippy pen to replace the last one and now I can write again. I swear I won't drop this one, or I'll never write. (Until I bus back to staples...)

I want to see my nieces and nephews again. If you check in the comments link, you'll find them all. I couldn't stick them here because they messed with the tables and they don't have a width tag.

my fear

i don't know you. i might try. but i'm really merely putting myself into your picture, and not looking at anything at all. my corner of the universe is just a bit upside-down.

insight...

...And I realized, lying in bed early one morning waiting to go to sleep, how many times in the spaces between my voices that Kat - Normal Kat - had whispered, "I want to go home." With a touch of heartbreak I knew that although I had a house to live in, I couldn't call anywhere home until I'd found a home in myself. And I had a long way to go before I was at rest in my own body, and a mind that had turned against me. For how could anyone be comfortable while waging a war that was destroying themselves, whlie knowing that only utter destruction could bring a wholeness into their heart? A cruel irony, senseless in it's berevity, and one I swear to carry through.

Thought, (and you may see I'm long-winded in my pen) I doubt my strength to finish with this war. Is it possible for a mere girl to bring her own hand and mind to collapse upon itself in order to rebuild? For who could bring themselves to the brink of death by thier own will? Surely not I, courage runs through others' weins but mine own are void of it. I cower, choosing instead to hide within sleep. (And where is she? I cannot fall to rest.)

Hiding seems to be my forte, a skill I've honed with endless fear. And even now the demon stalks me, striking when the voices reach their height and I retreat, stranded in the wildfire of their words. I know the power of words as well as their shortcomings. Words become feeble as a physicle weapon, yet sharp in their own right.

Alas my nightly writings beg to cease, so I drop my pen in search of Lady Sleep.

-Thursday July 27th 2006
a midnight story
hammer on my writers block
imperfect (!) as it is
a night cap, perhaps?

FUCKING ASSHOLES

1:58 pm: SOMEONE CALLS ASKING FOR BEN'S CAKE. AFTER REPEATING THE QUESTION FOUR TIMES, THEY FINALLY ANSWER, OH, OH OHKAY.
1:59 pm: SOMEONE ELSE, ASKING FOR THE SAME CAKE, ASKS THE SAME QUESTION, AND HANGS UP BEFORE I CAN TELL THEM IT'S NOT FUCKING READY, JACKASS!!!!!

IF YOU FUCKING SAID YOU WERE GOING TO PICK UP THE BLOODY CAKE AT THREE, PICK UP THE BLOODY CAKE AT THREE!!!!! DON'T CALL MY HOUSE TWICE, EXPECTING ME TO MAGICALLY SWITCH AROUND THE DAY SO MY MOM IS HOME AND FUCKING HAVE YOUR GODDAMN STUFF READY FOR YOU AN HOUR BEFORE IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE!!!!! RUDE!!!!!

and YOU!! YOU BITCH!!%#@ I GAVE YOU THE RIGHT CHANGE, AND YOU'RE STANDING THERE COUNTING IT OUT, (it was a five, and two toonies) THINKING I RIPPED YOU OFF WHEN YOU'RE GETTING THE GODDAMN DISCOUNT SHIT AND THEN WHEN YOU REALIZE I'M RIGHT, YOU GRAB THE FUCKING SHIT AND WALK AWAY!!!!!! BITCH!!!!

I'M NOT A GODDAMN SECRETARY HERE!!!!

AND HOW LONG IS IT GOING TO FUCKING TAKE YOU TO REALIZE THAT M=P AND I'M NOT MAKING THIS SHIT UP. YOU WANT TO LIVE A FUCKING DAY IN MY LIFE THEN GO AHEAD AND MAYBE YOU'LL REALIZE I CAN'T GODDAMN CONTROL THE SHIT IN MY HEAD AND YOU CAN FINALLY GET AFTER TWO FUCKING LONG YEARS THAT THIS IS NOT MY GODDAMN FUCKING FAULT!!!!! WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO FUCKING GET THIS SHIT IN YOUR HEAD!?!?!?!

AND YOU!!!! ARE YOU ALL SO BLIND THAT YOU CAN'T FUCKING FIGURE OUT THAT YOU'RE MAKING MY FRIENDS LIVES HELL!?!?! JACKASS'!!!! I'M SICK OF YOUR SHIT.

FUCK OFF BITCHES!!!!!!

AURGRGHUIHHHHHH
HHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

try as you might

you don't get it.