woohoo, I have hair, and damn it hurts.

Katt Posted in General

I got extensions put in my mohawk the other day, long long black single braids. It took 2 Jamaican Canadians 2 and a half hours and five packages of hair to braid all those suckers in. Even though it’s only a mohawk width, my hair is thick and plentiful, so it took more hair, and more time, than guestimated. Which meant it was also more expensive than guestimated, but I’m loving it. Except, that going from practically no hair, to over a foot and a bit of heavy braids, is taking some adjustment. braids pull at the scalp a bit, and these ones, with all the weight of that hair, are aching a bit, there is also the hard to get a good scratch factor. However, I am confident that I will adjust. Given that I am a) trying to lose weight, and b) wanting to redo my braids in a month or so. Given the expense of the braids, combined with how much I want them! The deal I’ve worked out with myself, and with Wolfe, is that for every 10 pounds I lose, and keep off, I can have my head re-done. I’m psyched. It’s powerful motivation. I haven’t taken photos with it yet, it’s only been 2 days, and gee, we only take naked pics of me about every 3 days Actually, less frequently than that lately because I’ve had so many great models made available to me. Some of whom I’ve cancelled on, and hopefully not pissed off. Damn depression sometimes makes for last minute cancellations on my part. Bummer, but necessary.

Speaking of depression, found out one of my meds is doing mean things to my liver, raised enzymes, and so I’ve fazed it out, and am replacing it with another anti-anxiety medication I’ve used before. So I’m hoping that goes well. Making med changes right before the holidays, when I’ll be with family, and absent from easy access to my psychiatrist is a little hair raising, but I should have an idea of whether the change is working for me by then, if it isn’t, well my liver can take a little extra punishment over the holidays, and we’ll expirement some more -after- that.

I have all these neices and nephews to buy for now for xmas, which has turned out to be a bit costly, but fun. I’m looking forward to being te ‘cool’ aunt bringing the fo shizzle hippest gifts. I have no idea whether their using that slang or not, but I know what music they’re listening too, and I’ve bought some cool patches and decals for their favorite labels. some good guitar pics for the electric guitar lessons one is starting with a little pic holder. Then girly stuff for the girls. Found out one neice was into asian inspired accessories, fave color red, well, I had just bought 3 such styled purses for myself (not excessive, they were a steal, 3 for 18 bucks – chinese import store, and I know how to barter) They are uber-ecclectic trendy, so she’s getting one of those packed with sparkly lip gloss, bath confetti, and girly girl crap that most of us like to goo over. It’s hard, because I had to turn down all kinds of cooler gifts that I knew would not go over well with parentals… like stickers that say girls kick ass, or worse. I think I was pushing it when I bought the youngest boy a warrior constructor leggo type thingy. I know he’s going to love it, I’m wondering if my Sister is going to cringe at the big guns and apply it yourself cammo paint. Oh well, I had to be a little bad. He’s the youngest, he’ll have plenty of time to reccuperate.

When we were out on our shopping marathon today, discovered this salad bar/fruit bar/gelati bar japanese owned/run place in town. It was amaxing, trully the best salad and fruit bar I’ve ever had. It was so fresh and everything was prepared to perfection. they had some amazing japanese style apple ginger low fat dressing. The had aspargus cooked to perfection, green beans, just about anything you can imagine in a sald bar, but just done at a gourmet level, with that clean perfection you seem to find in japanese inspired cuisine. I have a huge salad, completely overloaded, and a container of fruit – mango, strawberry, kiwi, pineapple, watermelon, and pommegranite seeds. That and two pops, cost us 10 bucks. I was floored, I want to move in their eat it every day. My huge salad had loads of mixed greens, spinach, green beans, aspargus, and tomato and onion and cilantra salsa. Half an egg, some articifial crab meet, dolmathes (rice cooked in grape leaves) some beautifully lightly marinated mushrooms, some greek style rice salad, and extra cilantro (they had it as a topping, and I’m a cilantro fiend).

So tommorow is family time with Wolfe’s famliy, should be interesting, we’ve done shopping for them today, and I think we did a half decent job, maybe we can take them for dinner too, will have to check in Wolfe on the financial situation. I just feel like splurging a bit this Christmas, maybe I’m trying to build up good xmas karma to increase my odds of winning the big lotteries from the tickets we’ve gotten as gifts to one another. It was funny, I had originally wanted to buy Wolfe a single tail whip, and then decided it would be neet to play the big Millionaires lotto, which even if we don’t win, proceeds go to childrens hospital. When I told him I had been thinking of getting him the whip, he laughed, cause that was what he had been thinking of getting me! Would have been funny if we had each given one to each other, but now all the christmas money between us, has been designated and spent as lottery tickets. Even if we don’t win anything, we’re enjoying the excitement, anticipation, and the fun of the gamle.

Outside of time

Katt Posted in General

It seems like years since I’ve written, and it seems like only yesterday, and it seems like I could write forever on everything, and yet, somehow I’ve nothing to say.

In the beginning, there was the Mother – Night, not just the night that comes before the dawn of day, but the First night, of primordial chaos, that came before the dawn of order. The great Mother, night of Chaos, gave birth to order, gave birth to the worlds, to life of infinite variety, and so that they may have sight, she took her own eyes, and hung them to create the sky, and shattered her vision into the infinite array that became the celestial blanket enveloping all her children, all her creations. From the nothing, came everything. We all suckle at the breast of paradox, we come from the void, we come from the union of microscopic origins from the mother and the father that preceeded us, and that mother and father, from the mothers and fathers that preceeding them, and evolutionary scientific theory that before that mode of sexual reproduction, it was just the Mother, splitting herself over and over again, but the Mother, from where did she come, she was the something in nothing.

Just rambling

I’ve nothing new to say, so why not start out with something like the above, something old.

I’m tired.

I feel like I always have so much that I’m doing, yet that I’m not really accomplishing anything. Or, I feel like I’m doing nothing, really, yet, life seems to go along on its merry way.

Playing the lottery for Xmas – it’s the major gift Wolfe and I decided to spend on this year. Tickets for the local Millionaire lottery that the proceeds go towards the Childrens hospital, we bought three tickets for 250$, if we win something, wonderful, if not, at least the money goes to a good cause, probably better than us just getting more ‘stuff’.

Not sure If I’m going to go do the family thing for Xmas this year. Part of me wants to, but a big part of me just wants to stay home. Actually, what I’d really like to do is go set up a tree in the park here in skid row, and hand out presents to the street people on Christmas. I think that would be the most fun, not thinking Wolfe would go for it though. It would make me feel good. I don’t think I can get that joyous miraculous wonderment out of anything personal for christmas anymore, except for maybe winning that lottery, but maybe I can make the magic happen for someone(s) else. Spend whatever we have extra, if anything on fun yet practical gifts, and just hand them out, to whomever, and wrap up anything we have that we don’t need and give it away too, why not. It’s really what I’d like to do. If I had any real motivation in my body, I’d love to organize a group of people to do that with, get people involved. Unfortunately, my depression leaves me with a lot of apathy when it comes to acting on my ideas. My mind keeps busy, my spirit soars with ideas all the time, art projects I want to undertake, deeds to do, excersize and diet programs to follow, the ideas for growth are endless – the lack of movement towards accomplishing any of it, is as static as the goals are dynamic. I’m still trapped in a biochemical fog, loaded up on anti-depressants that just manage to keep me stable and somewhat functional. I’m emotionally closed off from myself, impotent in my actions, and the anxiety that is kept tucked away behind chemically induced walls, comes out in my sleep, where I revert to the childhood nervous habit of picking my nose. Oblivious to my actions, I awaken in the morning, my hands encrusted in dried blood, a trickle running from my nostril, and the taste of blood heavy on my palate, like I’ve been sucking on an old copper penny. Disgusting. Numb, my morning ritual involves the painstaking process of removing dried blood from under my fingernails, where it clings like the devil. That and trying to clear my sinuses of the long slimy plug of blood and mucus that has coagulated in there, trying to clear it without triggering the bleeding again. I’m paranoid that if I leave that huge clot up there it will rot, or flies will somehow lay eggs within – irrational, but then, that’s the ever present little edge of insanity that rides with me in my tamed anxiety/depression state. The little dark cloud of nasty thoughts, unease, fear, and sometimes just silliness that likes to dance around the more common place rationality. I’m mostly sane.

Mostly sane, but mostly lost… still trying to figure out, how I can find that thread to pull me back up to the world of the living, instead of trying to claw my way out of my numbed anxiety and depression coffin, that leaves the inside of my nostrils a mass of scabs, and the pages of my journal, all to empty, most of the time.

I’m still here, I think.

Sometimes though, it’s better worrying, and bleeding, that not, at least I do know that I’m still alive, I taste it every morning.