Puppet-tear-Master

As an active addict there are times in my day when it seems the insane emotional ups & downs will never end. It's all about understanding and gauging our abilities to handle things..staying away from those situations we're uncomfortable in..at least until we are stronger..and surrounding ourselves with the simple stuff..or sitautons we can trust. Build over time..slowly...little tiny wee baby steps.

Ah 'trust' now there's a word that packs a punch in my world..it's one thing to not trust others..but when you can't trust yourself..you're really in a fix aren't you...yep..a nice tight spot all by your lonsome and of your own making to boot.

I think for at least a year (some more..some less..some forever and a day (like it's turning out to be in my case), after coming off of dope our emotions are so brand spanking new to us..really they've been in lock down haven' they ...pushed back by the dope that numbed/s them. Like just the other day I was watching this movie called "In Her Shoes,' I found my eyes starting to tear up every now and again..and there really wasn't anything that sad about it. I kinda laughed this nervous little laugh..wiped my eyes and mumbled to my stunned cats who were all sitting around the living room watching me intently "Yep mum is losing it for real..pay her no mind..she doesn't have a clue why she's going on like this either.' I hit the pause button and up I get..treking into the kitchen for some comfort food..shaking my head at my reaction. After fixing an extra large portion of comfort I gathered myself up and headed back into the living room..grabbed a box of kleenex on the way..hit the 'play' button and began digging into the bowl of 'double chocolate fudge ice-cream with jello..cream and fudgeo cookies' added to the mix. The cool sweet sweet mixture is doing its sugar fix duty and blurring the last few minutes from my mind.

All appears well in my world again and I laugh at some of the goings on in the movie. No sonner have I ha-ha-ed and forgotten when I spot teardrops hitting the melting pot of ice-cream in my bowl...then I just couldn't stop..all hell broke loose..they came out like a 40 day and 40 night flood..only unlike Noah's flood there seemed to be no end in site

I don't know about other people but for some reason when I cry the tear/s usually come out of one tear duct/eye. Only when things are really serious do I tear from both eyes..okay..well I was crying from both tear ducts like the rest of the world...a sure clue to me that something was indeed amiss. Now I'm all alone at home except for my beloved cats..yet I am not allowing myself to make any sounds..and my body is so stiff so tense you'd think I was standing at the frontlines of a war..crying but no crying sounds are coming from me. And maybe that's exactly what is was..the war inside of me begging for some outcome..any outcome..any reaction from my former self..only not this stiff..rigid piece of work I seemed to be.

I think to myself..why..why won't you help release all this pent up 'whatever' that's literally fighting to be heard..squeezing..bulldozing itself out of two teeny ducts in the form of salted tears and chemicals..screaming for release? So release.

There was nothing left for this former shell of myself to do but finally acquiesce..give myself permission to make some noise..to let my body shake..rattle and humble with a good old fashioned cryfest..yes that aught to do something..change something. Only when I do..the cracked gutteral noise coming from somewhere deep down inside of me sound so absolutely and completely foreign to my ears...I freeze up again..become silent..become the stranger..play the heart-less tin woman like in the Wizard of Oz..as if lot's of people are watching me do this..I clam right up..I actually turn red for myself.



I could feel my cheeks burning a deep shade of red..embarassed..bare assed..as if every one of my emotions..faults and fears were laid out for all the world to see. I felt groggy..dizzy..benumbed..like I'd been stun-gunned at the sudden realization.

I had forgotten how to cry

And I felt shame.

I felt shame..even when the only world watching..

was me.

When did this happen to me..when did I abandon my God or 'whatever given' right to feel..to show feeling..to be a feeler? Suddenly..as quickly as the tears had come..I felt fear..I was very, very afraid for myself...this self.




And how bizarre is it that I try and comfort others who have the guts to lay their souls wide open..does this mean I am a hypocrate..does this mean I can only 'feel' vicariously through them..and more importantly..how did the little girl that was me so long ago survive when she was no longer allowed..given permission to cry. Did she even realise it was being taken from her...did she understand the drug-walk that began so innocently in her very first year of adolescence would lead to this..all these 36 years later. Like some fairy tale twisted into a hairy-scarey-tale..gone horribly wrong..the ending is yet unclear.

I had become a puppet master of myself…controlling every aspect..covering every raw emotion..pulling my own strings.

And as human beings..we simply 'have' to do raw..we are good at raw..raw feeds our souls...without raw we are truly baked..finished..full of shit.

I was a mess...

am a mess..

but it seems for now anyway..life in all its abandon..savagery & glory is alotting me the time & space to attempt a do-over.. to learn....and practice..to thaw out from this self-imposed freeze..to find the raw inside again..and for that I am ever greatful.

Learn I shall..and in time...cry I will..like I was meant to.

Rockstar-Supernova

The new Rockstar line-up is in...the contenders imho so far..are Luckas Ross (28) from Toronto & South Africa's very talented Dilana Robichaux (34) with Icelands own Iceman, Magni & Aussie Toby Rand coming in 3rd and 4th.

Lady D aka Dilana

She Talks To Angels
Click above to hear Dilana do what I think is a signature version of The Black Crows 'She Talks to Angels.'


Here's her revamped & gutsy version of Johnny Cash's 'Ring of Fire.'

The best of July 18th's contenders:

Listen as last night (July 18th) Dilana did a memorable take of the Cranberries song 'Zombie.'


Lukas Rossi

Lukas Rossi did the Rolling Stones proud with his made over version of 'Let's Spend The Night Together.'

Magni surprises every week..here he is doing the Stone Temple Pilot's 'Plush,' and doing it well I might add.

Phil Ritchie giving props to Jefferson Airplane's 'White Rabbit.'


For a look at the other contenders click here: Rockstars


Zombie Lyrics
by Cranberries

Another head hangs lowly,
Child is slowly taken.
And the violence caused such silence,
Who are we mistaken?

But you see, it's not me, it's not my family.
In your head, in your head they are fighting,
With their tanks and their bombs,
And their bombs and their guns.
In your head, in your head, they are crying...

In your head, in your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie,
Hey, hey, hey. What's in your head,
In your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie?
Hey, hey, hey, hey, oh, dou, dou, dou, dou, dou...

Another mother's breakin',
Heart is taking over.
When the vi'lence causes silence,
We must be mistaken.

It's the same old theme since nineteen-sixteen.
In your head, in your head they're still fighting,
With their tanks and their bombs,
And their bombs and their guns.
In your head, in your head, they are dying...

In your head, in your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie,
Hey, hey, hey. What's in your head,
In your head,
Zombie, zombie, zombie?
Hey, hey, hey, hey, oh, oh, oh,
Oh, oh, oh, oh, hey, oh, ya, ya-a...

Ode to the great Pooh-Bah Ramen or Prison Delight

Funny how a taste of something will bring with it a flood of memories..today 'soup' did just that for me. Here's a little anecdote going back to the early 1990's...during the days I spent as a guest of the federal government.

I just ate a bowl of an old junky/doper's and struggling students favorite..the must have 'sodium laden and loaded with artery-clogging palm oil' staple found in every poor mans cupboard. Bricks of dried ramen noodles and packaged powdered broth "Ramen Soup!" Chicken noodle of course with a little cayenne thrown in for extra tastebud 'zings.' Every country must have these soups..found in all super market's..convenience stores and goodie welfare grab bags across North America..4 for a buck..a quarter for one or down to 8 cents a serving if bought by the caseload. Actually aquired a taste for them when I was inside prison. Anyone who's ever done time knows how pathetic prison cantines can be and cafeteria grub can be worse..made more so if you lack the funds to purchase cantine. For the price..well..a convict could do worse. Cheese..any cheese by-product or something remotely resembling cheese is hard to come by and classified a luxory in the pen. To be served & savored but once a month..at least at the one I was in. Naturally for a cheese loving gal like meself..this just would not do. I had to figure out a way to get my bi-weekly hits of all things cheese like..preferably 'cheddary' cheeselike.

I scanned the cantine menu looking for ways to do just this when low and behold..be still my incarcerated heart..I actually saw they were selling CHEEZ WHIZ® (like that '® ' pretty snazey huh..hehehe) aka good ole american processed cheese. Pricey pricey pricey..but as it was the most luxurious item on the list save for cigarettes..I suppose it earned its place as a top pricer after the sit they try and pas s of as cheese in the cafeteria. A good thing I didn't rely on the 2.19$ a day I made teaching pottery for cantine..or I would have craved more than just cheese..for a looong..looong time.

Back to the recipie. As luck would have it..I managed to secure the much respected and sought after prsion j.o.b. of delivering cantine every first Tuesday of the month. This position is a biggy (akin to CEO-ship or close) and much envied because whoever had it..had their finger on the pulse of the goings on inside..an important connection in any prison. It was considered a position of trust by both sides of the fence..and too..both sides knew the importance to the prison population of having a cantine delivery go off without a hitch. As well it paid a whole 5 cents more than my Atelier (workshop) position. Always ccompanied by a screw (guard) throughout..my day started filling the orders in the commissary then packing the bags for delivery to the women. As you can well imagine..more than cantine made it into some of those bags. What I liked best about doing cantine was the glimpses it afforded into areas of the prsion no other inmate ever saw save for a small cleaning crew..the librarian and those doing time in said section. In some cases I saw and became the only non-guard face these women had bothered looking at in over 6 years. Women who could not be in the general population because of the nature of their crimes..who were spit at..jumped at every turn or held in total contempt..became real people to me. For those few minutes on the first Tuesday of every month they were no more the sum of their crimes..than I was mine.

I held that job for my whole stay..not a reference I put on my creative resume.. though in hindsight..perhaps I should.

On that first cantine Tuesday as soon as I signed off on the last order and returned to the stock room, I grabbed my own signed and paid for cantine bag filled with 2..yes you read it here first and you read it right...'2' jars of delghtfully bright orange Cheez Whiz; and ran..in anticipation..almost sliding on my own salivia..straight into my cell. Alas..I could not wait to prepare my version of 'Soup O' Gratin' that time. Nope I sure couldn't..instead I deftly unscrewed that sucker..the familiar and much missed 'pop' of the top was music to my institutionalised ears; and dipped as many fingers as would fit way down into the Cheez Whiz jar..scooping up as much as my fingers could hold into my mouth. I know..a tad piggish..but until you yourself are that hungry for a certain flavor..crave its essence..judge me not good people.

Ahhhh pleasure I tell you..pure..pure..unadulterated & unbiased pleasure.

I cannot begin to describe the changes my tongue went through that day..the tastebud sensations were like none other before. Know my friends..the tongue can and does go through heavy detox's in its own right. I am a witness. Damn that was good. It's a real keeper that memory

Opps..be back..someone is bugging my front door...

Back..25th june 12:21 am.

Have asked this question before..why do people not call before they come over..nothing gets me like that gets me. Okay so it never bothered me before my days of using..but that was so long ago there can't possibly be anyone who still remembers my 'open door' policy. Yes I was a far more social soul with energy to spare back then. Perhaps she will return one day...until then..call first!

I've lost all desire to finish up this post..but I'll run over the 'Ramen O' Gratin' to wrap this one up. As I was saying..when I first made this in jail the ladies went nuts for it..some of us hadn't tasted melted crusty cheese in forever. Right..so you boil your water and have the Ramen soup either in a deep bowl..or if it comes in a cup like it did inside..even better for this. Now smear your Cheez Whiz all over the top nice and thick like..then pour the boiling water to just below the last of the noodles..making sure not to touch the cheese whiz with any water (very important). Cover the bowl with something heavy and let it sit for at least 10 minutes. If it's a cup same thing. Find yourself a comfortable spot..grab a box of Ritz crackers for the cheesy liquid soup left at the bottom of the bowl/cup when you're done sucking up the noodles..and remove the covering. Voila..you have instant 'Soup O' Gratin'..nice and hard and melted cheese on top..soft springy noodles underneath..excellent flavored soup broth at the bottom..and majorly yummy I promise you.

May not sound like much to you now..but if you ever find yourself behind bars craving cheese..I betcha time served..you think back to this post here.

*smile*

Later gator's...have yourself a sensational day filled with flavors galore.




&



That's what prison soup is....M'm! M'm! Good!

It sure beats the hell out of



There's actually an art to the creating of Ramen soup taken quite seriously by folks in the far east. One of my favoirite movies is all about the making of the best ramen flavored soup. It's a 1985 Japanese film called 'Tampopo' the first Noodle Western (ha), by director Juzo Itami. In it ramen restaurant's' compete for business by trying to make the best broth to go with their ramen noodles. Now the instant soups I speak of in this post can in no way compete with the homemade..kinda like our instant soups here...still..I love them. Check this very unique and entertaining movie out if you ever feel the need to know about all things 'ramen.' Or even if you don't.



Tampopo

The Offical Ramen homepage with recipes et al.

In closing and however you choose to enjoy your soups..I wish you all very happy ramen-ing.

All Hail To Saint-Jean-Baptiste aka John The Baptist

June 24th officially signals the start of party time in Montreal..this week-end opens with a double whammy..the Grand Prix and the Fête Nationale (National Holiday); of Saint-Jean-Baptiste patron saint to our fellow french Canadians. All across this great country of ours the french express their cultural pride and rich heritage through colourful parades and high-spirited parties marking Saint-Jean-Baptiste Day. These celebrations combine the ancient rites of the summer solstice with the traditional celebration in honour of the Patron Saint of French Canadians, who was officially proclaimed as such by His Holiness Pope Pius X in 1908. To say nothing of the all-weekend drinking..dancing and whopping it up done on our fine streets by everyone under the age of 100...and probably some over.

Next week-end and right on the heels of old Saint Jean..comes Canada Day on July 1st...traditionally known as 'English' Canada's day to get down...but for now..this week-end belongs to the French among us..and in all truth they sure know how to celebrate a national holiday (better than we english do Canada Day imho).   

  Really though any good standing Canadian citizen worth their party animal weight in Molson Canadian or Labatt 50 (beer) will take advantage of a reason to party...be it in french english or franglais/franglish. So wherever one looks in this beautiful province of Quebec this week-end they'll see flags flying high & proud off of balconies..car antenna’s and glittering renditions of the fleur dis lis painted on childrens cheeks. Inbetween the world soccer cup games and revving Formula One engines on televison (and the streets-not formula 1's but souped up fakes)..music can be heard blaring out of open windows from Montreal east to Quebec city and all around the rest of this province.

Downtown streets are sectioned off so foot traffic can rule..and in broken french..tourists can be heard asking for the next cool place to find a drink after hours. The smells of french canadian cuisine and local homegrown skunk (marijuana) wafts from small intimate cafe's..and 3 in the morning may as well be 3 in the afternoon for all the time people are 'not paying attention to' this week-end. Young and old meld together to find equal ground and can often be seen dancing in the streets..toasting to each others health and trading recipes..some legal..some not so illegal if under a certain weight. Yes folks..it's a damn fine time in my city..when the natives are friendly and could care less what language you speak (most have mellowed in that area anyway)..wish you were here to taste of it.

 

    It's the kind of time I imagine our Quebec License plate slogan 'Je me souviens' or 'I will remember,' was made for..a time where nowhere else on the planet looks as good to me or could persuade me to leave.

Too bad it never lasts.

 

  As aforely mentioned..next weekend is Canada day...prior to 1982 it was known as Dominion Day, First of July, Confederation Day, and July the First. Trust the english to over-compensate eh..though now we like to keep everything nice and non confusing...so Canada Day it is. Canada's national celebration is always observed on July 1..unless that date falls on a Sunday. In which case it is observed the following day...in truth the two holidays coming back to back like they do gives cause for weeks long celebrations..so it doesn't really matter what day it falls on. People are taking more days off now than any other time during the summer. Unlike the July 4th celebrations of our neighbours to the south in the United States or our homegrown Quebecois Saint Jean Baptiste day..where partying is the name of the game..Canada Day seems to be celebrated in a more reserved manner...or so I have always thought. Still there are a few of us acorss this great country of ours who still know how to close and open a bar or two.

 

  Coinciding with next week-ends festivities is our very own and very excellent..if I may say so myself International Jazz Festival...it's always a guaranteed pleaser and swinging good time is usually had by all. The streets of downtown are virutally filled to their brims with seas of people..every conceivable nationality is represented and most are jazz lovers extrodinaire and those who happen to straggle in for the 'experience' of it..will be soon enough. Blues royalty, the 80 year old B.B King in the company of Garrett & Dutch Mason will privilage our ears this summer. And maybe..if I'm very..very lucky he'll do Lucille..whatever tunes the great pooh-bah King chooses to do..his marvelous sexy..whiskey tenor of a voice is sure to make old & new fans alike speak volumes about seeing him live for some time to come. Martha Wainwright's 'Bye Bye Blackbird' could make this gal cry into her drink if done at the right time..and the Neville Brothers 'Yellow Moon,' well it may just get me up on my sandaled feet. I'm hoping anyway..some of these songs will be played. These are just a few of the names whose voices will fill our fine cities hot summer streets this Jazzz fest. Wish you were here!

 

Happy Fête Nationale dear Quebec!

 

Later mes amis

The Angel & Her Devils

Visit Them here

You Darkness

You darkness, that I come from,

I love you more than all the fires

that fence in the world,

for the fire makes

a circle of light for everyone,

and then no one outside learns of you

But the darkness pulls in everything:

shapes and fires, animal and myself,

how easily it gathers them!--

powers and people--

and it is posssible a great energy

is moving near me.

I have faith in nights

~Ranier Maria Rilke~

Thoughts on the half-shell

Wild Horses by the Stones comes to me from an fm station..easily breaking through my lost in thought mood. It's a tune I've not heard in way too long. The song lolls my brain into remembering a time when the days melded into nights..one after the other...when the tip of a needle sliding under my skin and into my oh so protected veins was still a relatively novel experience for me. I hadn't realised yet how it would hang onto me..its grip on my very life-force..unrelenting..for decades to come. Refusing to let go with its dark whispers and promises of "I'll make it all better..I'll make it all go away..forever and ever..and day after day."

No thing will ever offer you more.

The music played on..coaxing the memories to come. Of a a sweet young man dancing on his mothers rosewood dining room table top..in his purple with black shooting stars..UK bikini underwear..and made to measure green spanish-leather cowboy boots. Fine boots they were..with even finer sexy flamenco-like heels moving up & down..up & down to the beat of some 'Ten Years After' song. That he was yelled at for leaving scuff marks behind on the poilished wood was little price to pay for the pleasure we had..the laughter and mad love we made afterwards...we were lost in each others bodies..lost in our own high minds..arms and legs entwined..intoxicating smells and it all seemed to go on forever..into endless nights and tomorrows. As promised.

And we were..for all the insanity of the day..of the times..so very interconnected.

I will always adore the old songs for that..for their ability to transport me back in time to a better..still believing and very alive place.


The dark almost moonless night is now comfortably cool after a hot & humid day. The heat comes on so suddenly these last years..it bombards..too extreme..no more the slow shifting of the seasons I remember so fondly from my childhood. Like the freeze..the summer too leaves no time inbetween for the blood to acclimate..no real spring and fall anymore. We should replace those two seasons with words like leap & shock. Yes..then the seasons would be Winter, Leap, Summer & Shock..that would be more honest..more like it really is.

Front & rear windows rolled down..allowing the thick stagnant finally cooled air of earlier to waft its way across sticky seats. Seeming to instinctively seek out my still damp & sweaty skin..drying me as it works its way to release through the passenger side & back windows...cooling me. The lone car I'm driving heads as if self-propelled down a quiet street whose once bright windows have all now grown dark..giving one..at least the appearance..the souls inside are bedded down peacfully for the night. As I drive slowly past them I wonder at that..at how peacfully some of them really are sleeping..if at all. How many lie with eyes wide shut..staring at ceilings..tense..quiet not to wake whomever lies beside them..thought after thought quelling any hope of their finding peace on this night.

How many..probably far more than I think..I was them once..albeit briefly..yet enough so I know.

It is late and I am driving towards the meeting..the dealer..the man..one of manyservers of brief delight and a liftime of pain. To he who can hand me my own idea of satisfaction in a papered powder that will help me get sleep on this night. It is ritualistic in nature this regimented routine of ours..of all dopers & addicts..it is the part of the game we are addicted to as much as the drug itself...this established pattern..this sacred custom...that any who do not partake of it would think insane...and they would be right. This point in time where goods and cash quickly exchange hands..anticpation building..blood pounding..knowing release is in the coming. Soon..so so soon.

Only to start it all over again.


To hear Wild Horses Click Here and either click 'Download or Play Now' a new smaller window will open..the song will load and then play.

Lyrics:

Childhood living is easy to do
The things you wanted I bought them for you
Graceless lady you know who I am
You know I can't let you slide through my hands

Wild horses couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses, couldn't drag me away

I watched you suffer a dull aching pain
Now you decided to show me the same
No sweeping exits or offstage lines
Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind

Wild horses couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses, couldn't drag me away

I know I dreamed you a sin and a lie
I have my freedom but I don't have much time
Faith has been broken, tears must be cried
Let's do some living after we die

Wild horses couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses, we'll ride them some day

Wild horses couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses, we'll ride them some day

Wild Horses by
(M. Jagger/K. Richards)

It’s That Time of Year Again - Northward Bound

   Laptoping it as a friend drives the distance to open up the country cottage for the summer.

Well technically this is a second visit..the first was in early spring when she and hubby went to turn water on..hook up gas and make the earth ready in preperation for the gardening of all things green..some legal..some legal in small quantities.

 

 

 At least the car is a smooth ride so typing isn't as all over the place as it could be..has been. We caught the beginning of traffic but for the most part beat it out of the city just in time. The white-lined highways are relatively empty but for a few environmental savvy souls who brave the 100 plus click trek back and forth to work everyday..winter, spring, summer & fall..and all for what? To say they don't live among the racing rats anymore. Actually yes..to say exactly that..don't get me wrong I'm a huge fan of country living and have tired my hand at it several times over the years. Yes fine folks..been there done that..unless you're within 20 miles either way it's very difficult to do full time..at least it was for me. I began to suffer burnout. I have several friends who do it and the lag from no sleep..driving all the bloody time and forced nights spent in the city because of emergencies..bad weather...car problems, etc. seems to take whatever peace & health one may reap and turns it into country stress.

 

Not for me anymore..this country living..although I love it to death and vow to return someday because it does make for a much happier & content Mary. I often miss it.

We're soon coming up on the tiny old english village that lies nestled in Quebec's heartland..one of thousands of small french towns just like it. A spectacular showcase of forest, rockface & water..the cottage lies smack dab in the middle of all that wild nature..20-25 short but steep..downhill feet to a lake that allows no motor boating or potential polluting paraphernalia inside of it...one can drink from this rumored bottomless lake..and we do...the water is sweet..earthy..fresh & ice-cold, it never disappoints. I always take loads back with me into the city.

It really is a little wonderland of nature..sometimes late at night..after smoking very decent but stinky Quebec homegrown skunk..we'll stand at the kitchen window and prepare for a show. There are not many television stations worth watching up there so it serves as our nature channel. I kid you not I've seen signs of nocturnal eyes and insects through this window that seem to come from another world..who knows perhaps they do. If it happens to be a full or close to a full moon the forest outside is bathed in its milky beams..making everything seem cloaked in a fog-like mystery. Yet surprisingly what needs to be seen is silhouetted..its shape standing out in sharp contrast.

The kalidescop-ish array of moth life outside will hone in on the small candle that burns bright inside the window..attaching themselves on the other side of the glass..repaying us in kind with colors..unique lovemaking..wing spreads and dances I'd pay to see. They sport designs on body parts to challenge even the most gifted artists among us. It sometimes looks like strange alien pseudo eyes are staring back at you..fixated..flapping its lids as the wings vibrate faster than the human eye can catch.

 

Their gift at camouflage and disguise is astonishingly impressive. We've stood there for hours on end watching..fascinated as a neverending display of bug life and such entertain endlessly. Truly a spectacle that if you've never witnessed before..you should make a point of doing before death takes you.

The only thing I dislike about coming up here during the damp months..is the black-flies & mosquito's..they are relentless those bastards are.   I couldn't believe this happend but last summer..on the last day of a week long stay I was eaten alive (or so it seemed at the time) by all manner of bus that snack on human blood for life...mosty the dreaded blackfly though. It was around 4 in the afternoon and I was packing the car for the trip back into the city. Doing it as qucikly as possible too..now keep in mind I'd been up there 5 days already and managed to only incur 2 or 3 bites which was amazing in itself. This particular area of Quebec is well known for its horrible black fly seasons. I decided it best to drive the 4 or 5 too heavy bags of trash down to the end of the long driveway..close to the highway..rather than walk. I figured I'd beat the bugs a little at their own game..nope I shoulda thought again..it was while there as I emptied the trash that the crime happened. Insanity ensued..they circled me like Crazy Horse and his warriors encircled Custer's and gang at his last stand. These bugs showed me no mercy..not but 10 short minutes later I was standing under the hose (trying to shoo them off of me) covered from head to foot in blackfly..mosquito (and I even think a bee got in on the act), bites. Pam came running out of the cabin with a canister of industrial strength bug juice killer and proceded to soak me in the stuff. All too late though the damage had already been done. "Shit, Pam..these bastards are dangerous..let's get the hell outta here while we're still alive!" Laughing we quickly locked down the house..whistled for the dog..jumped into the car and made like bats outta hell for the highway home.

   

 I swear as we drove out it seemed like an army of blackflies and whatever mercenary escort bugs they do their dirty deeds with..chased us out. Even Prudence..Pam's beautiful and pretty tough Rottweiler was freaked. As I turned around so I could reach down and pet her in the back..I murmered reassuringly scratching under her chin "Not to worry girl..we're headed towards citylife and safety..well from the damn bugs anyway." She was hunkered down on the floor of the back seat still cringing..but her stubby tailsaid it all..it was wagging for all it was worth.

Exhausted..we rolled 3 windows down so the air could blow..whatever bloodsucking stragglers had hitched a ride in hope of more 'methadone rich' tainted blood..into oblivion. The drive home was uneventful except for my constant scratching and accompanying sounds. After Pam dropped me off at my place and we said our goodbyes..I went straight into the house..kissed all 7..much missed kities one by one..then raced towards the bathroom..pealing off damp icky 'bug juice' smelling clothes as I went. The long cool shower soothing what ailed me for the moment.

Several hours later I began to cough..a few more after than I had a raging fever of 102 and climbling. Suffice to say I got horribly sick with a mysterious fever after spending a week there..perhaps it hit me so hard because I hadn't been up north in a couple of summers and had little or no resistance to their venom...maybe it was both lungs and skin taking in all that industrial killer bug juice spray..I am not sure. Whatever it was I've no mind to repeat the same thing this year. No..indeed not..I am prepared..more so than any Boy Scout or Girlguide ever was..I hope.

I actually wrote a post about it (link below) it when it happend..almost exactly a year ago next week..funny.
bite me…june 28/005 8:55..The Bug Chronicles 1

 

And then of course...there's the array of wildlife and insects who bedded down for the winter in the cottage and stayed way passed their welcome into the now. Soon we greet the spiders who wait hidden in warm & dark places to greet us.  

 Oh joy!  

   Wolf Spider (up close)...this creature came scattering out from inbetween folded blankets last summer at around this same time..with babies on her back to boot..they piggy-back them until the little itsy-bitsy darlings can manage on their own.

A wolf-spider mama with babies on board..apparently they have these blue-green eyes that reflect & shine at night.

They are quite visible even at long distances...occasionally and if we're very very lucky we'll see a spectacular show 'a la wolf-spider and familia.' Apparently when the female's young have hatched and she carries them on her back..each gives off an eyeshine of their own..making mama appear like she's wearing her own version of a very beautiful and glimmering disco coat.

           Wolf spiders (family Lycosidae) capture their prey with speed and power, aided by eyes that can see in four directions at once.

Oh more joy.

Where's the 'replacement' tooth fairy

when you need him or her? Even at the height of my addiction I was always a stickler for my teeth and so...have no one to get mad at but myself for missing my last check-up.

Mad mad mad...yes.



I seem to have a toothache..eh gads..one would think that the relatively high dose of methadone I swallow every day would cover any pain I got from this..but like much else to do with opiates..this too is a fallacy. One builds a tolerance to opiates quickly and that includes methadone. This is why the prospect of an operation or medical procedure requiring pain monitering and meds scares so many drug users. Treatment (or oftentimes.. lack thereof) at many a medical institution by medical personal is somewhat bias when it comes to this. It would be one thing if it was just personal bias..but they're also surprisingly uniformed. Thinking the need for specialised pain treatment in opiate addicts is unnecessary and or imaginary. How does this happen I wonder. In a profession where drug addiction in itself is higher than most..one would think there'd be some sympathy for the devil..but no..it's actually the other way around. Let's hope that's changing.

The below was taken from 'chapter 5 - Common Clinical Management Strategies,' of the "Physicians Guide on Opioid Agonist Medical Maintenance Treatment."

Pain Management. The pain management needs of a medical maintenance patient may differ from those of other patients. The routine methadone dose of a patient in medical maintenance does not offer any analgesia, and a patient's opiate tolerance must be taken into account when managing acute or chronic pain. Opioid partial agonists are absolutely contraindicated in these patients.

Managing acute pain. Medical maintenance patients will be tolerant to the analgesic effects of methadone. Because of cross-tolerance between methadone and other opioids, these patients may sometimes require higher or more frequent doses of opioids than do other patients with similar pain (Payte and Khuri 1993, p.55). Patients in opioid agonist treatment who are experiencing acute pain, but who do not obtain adequate relief from non-opioid analgesics, need and deserve additional, short acting opioids - often in larger doses and/or at shorter intervals than patients who are not tolerant to opioids. The strategy would be to administer larger than usual short-term doses. These should be administered In addition to patients' normal or regular dose of methadone (Kaufitnan and Woody [CSAT I 995b]).

Veered off subject for awhile there..my bad.

I thought cavities were a curse only played on the young (well not exclusively), and even less so these days with dental care being the way it is for those who can afford it and these new super toothpaste's that promise forever protection no matter how many times a day you eat. Anyway it seems a little incognito back molar has been rotting away ever so slowy behind my back..at face. My faithful flossing regime didn't help ward off this particular 'wayward' renagade tooth decay case either. I mean I talk to my teeth regularly..just like I do my plants..cats and significant other. Why I ask it..why? Did you not fancy the new 12 hour protection toothpaste..was it the rinse and polisher..did neighbouring teeth receive more attention...more strokes than you..what was it?

Sigggh.

Apparently if the seal between your tooth enamel and the filling breaks down, little icky food particles..bacteria and whatnot will work their evil ways under the filling and mess you right up. Left untreated it can cause an abscess (OUCH). It began on the middle of this back tooth near the gumline. Can we salvage it..is it root canal time or will a filling do..and if it's root canal time will there be enough tooth left after drilling and scraping to forgo a crown? But if a filling will suffice..what kind do I get? Do I get an alloy metal silver mix that contains mercury (experts say it's still safe)...or do I go for a tooth-colored resin? The tooth-colored no doubt...and maybe I'll go a little crazy and have the crown made some funky color..it's way in the back after-all. Although after doing a little research on fillings in general..I came across something on Organic polymer (tooth-colored) resin fillings at 'How Stuff works.' It seems resin fillings like silver..are not without a downside  either. 

The following was taken from:

 Click

On the down side, they are more technique sensitive for the dentist to place, and are highly susceptible to decay in the future if placed improperly. They usually cost more than an amalgam, and recent research has shown that a by-product of some resin restorations called bisphenol-A may be estrogenic and increase the risk of breast cancer. Despite this research composite fillings are considered safe, and like the other dental filling materials, they are approved by the American Dental Association.

Decisons..decisions..decisions..questions..questions..questions...what's a woman with a cavity to do.

Book an appointment.

Sing to the tune of 'Mr Sandman.'

Tooth Fairy please send me a dream
the sweetest one that I've ever seen
do do do do
Filled with shiny new teeth & painless dentists
cause if you do I'll give you a kiss.
la la la la

Yea I know..a poet I am not.

In any case it's assuring to know should the need for a full set of dentures ever arise..I can always go the way of.

Billy Bob's dentist

 

So many fine looks to choose from...it almost makes you want to have all your good teeth pulled.

Maybe next time.

Natural Tooth Pain Remedies

Speaking of folk remedies..try acupressure if you have a toothache. Press gently but firmly on the sides of either index finger opposite the base of the fingernail.

And to relieve jaw pain and spasms, toothaches or temporomandibular disorders, press this point, called the Jaw Chariot, located above the end of your jaw, on the side of your face that hurts.



Cloves 
Place two drops of clove essential oil on a sterile cotton ball; place the cotton ball against the aching tooth between the tooth and the cheek until the pain subsides.
Place a whole clove between the aching tooth and your cheek. It can be held in place by holding your finger on the outside of the cheek. Chew the cloves a little to release their juice, then leave them in place for half an hour or so or until the pain subsides.

Salt Combine two tablespoons of salt with one cup of boiling water; take a mouthful of water as hot as possible and slosh it around your mouth near the tooth; repeat as necessary.

Tea Suck on a teabag. Place it as close to the aching tooth as possible

The above courtesy of:

Health 911

a nifty (haven't heard that one in a while I bet) little alternative medicine site.

Have a fine day folks..and always remember..to avoid this



and any run in's with

Billy Bob's dentist

  

Brush brush brush..and be kind to your teeth..each and every one.



Check out the new fangled Alpha Toothbrush here..odd looking creature isn't it.

The Two Faces of Addiction and it’s not pretty

At 13 I tried & shot crystal methadrine for the first time. What causes a young person to venture from everything they know..from their parents home and into downtown streets looking for this sort of thing. It's a question I'll try and tackle at another time...needless to say some 30 plus years later I still don't have any concrete answers that make much sense. Bit I do have some ideas as to why it may have happened.

After a year or so of shooting speed quite regularly with my then older boyfriend I tried heroin. And the rest..well the rest as they say is history.

I wish I had before & after pics of myself during that time..but I do not..so these will have to serve as a reflection of that time. I thank whomever the lady above is..and I pray she's somehow found her way back.

 

For more 'faces' of Crystal Methadrine..Methamphetamines aka speed

Click here

Need help

Click Here

&

Here

I have done nothing but..

stuff my face all day..which thank the powers that be is a sure sign this mystery illness..See Here..
has offically vamoosed (I hope) outta my greatful yet burned out system. And none too soon either as I've groan (yes typo intended) way weary of listening to my own moaning. God awful shit I tell ya. Anyway I ate like I hadn't eaten in over a week..which in reality was the case...literally inhaling my food. I had this mad craving for scrambled eggs..white toast and butter..ice-cold milk and chicken drenched in President Choices 'Memories of Thailand' fiery chili pepper sauce. F%ck it was good. I have heard many stories of hunger from my mother who made it through WW II..yet until this past week I had no real appreciation (if that's what to call it) or physical concept of it. Today I did..for the first time I knew what it felt like to crave nutrients so much..chewing my food was of no concern..nor taste..just getting it in and getting it to stay down was satisfaction enough.


Right I said I'd quit with the illness right. Oakie dokie then.


Read & caught up on a few fav blogs today and was also greatly cheered from reading Baabs O' Bitchen's blog..if you haven't yet you simply must give it a lQQk see. Of particular humor to me on this day was this post from Baabs about her french teacher extraordinaire 'Frog with a Blog,' what a hoot..a HOOT.

Made me laugh and I live in french area myself...okay okay so it's on this side of the world and not the 'real' thing.

Still.

Speaking of french.

We have what's now known as Franglish/Franglais here in Quebec & the rest of english speaking Canada. It's of course a combination of english & french that serves many purposes and satisfies to some extent anyway...the need of both cultures to have their language imposed..in whatever way possible..on the other. So let's say for example one could hear while walking down any given street in Montreal expressions like 'le parti,' 'le washing machine,' 'le weekend,' or 'le Big Mac' peppering french sentences and 'the dépanneur,' (or "dep" aka convenience store), (library) and so on in english ones. "I have to stop and the bibliotech before picking you up at the dépanneur..est ce bien?'

Confusing to many but we can't seem to live without it.

A Quickie

As some may know I've been graced with my father's presence after not having seen him in 5 years. At 74 he actually got into his candy apple red Ford 'yee-ha' pick-up truck and drove the 2 thousand plus miles from Dallas to Montreal in 2 days. Wild man that he is (though not usually)...and what did he get for his efforts. A blocked uretha from driving almost straight through and waiting too long to pee during the trip..or so said the chinese Canadian emergency room doctor on duty that night. After hooking him up to a catheter to drain what was in there..and giving him 3 days of anti-biotics...with instructions to have his prostrate checked as soon as he got back home to Dallas..all is well in wonderland again.

It's great that he's here as we've not spent much time together in my adult (hehe) life..but hard too as I'm not so used to having someone around me all the time. Still I'd best hush cause I realise I'm lucky to have my parents at all.

Just a quick update like the title says..since Dad's been here I don't have the time I'm used to having re: my pc habits..hoping too have this day all to myself so I can catch up on my pc--ing and do a little hit of writing.

Cold turkey off of opiates in one thing...but let me tell ya..detoxing off of the computer is quite another.

It may even have the white stuff beat

Somebody HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!

Later gators..

My Life...

..though filled with many loving people has been mostly a trip taken alone and on my own. Although not to everyone’s taste…this blog’s creation is twofold. I mean for it to help those who may have questions about addiction and the life that brings with it..or simply for those who fancy a look. At the same time..it may be just the venue I need to go back and search for clues as to my present state.

I love much about this life I’ve been given, many would say I’ve lived a sad life..indeed..some have said it. My mother being one..and we are very close yet she doens't see it like I do. Well of course not. I suppose her vision for me was not one of addiction..and who can begrudge her that.

Not I.

If I’d had children I probably, no certainly, would have not wished them a life on drugs either.

I certainly wouldn't call it 'sad'..different from the norm most definitely..but not boo hoo sad.


As I was saying I've been blessed with love in my life..although I myself can honestly say..I’ve not yet found ‘the one.' Make no mistake..I love the people in my life who are dear to me..without a doubt..but I speak here of a ’soulmate,’ another human kind who understands my deepest fears..joys and all the insanity inbetwixt. You know..that shadow of the ’self’ one who needs no explanation..words..acceptance or to be accepted..because all is already a given.

And maybe they are not ours to find during every lifetime…maybe they come but every once in a great while. If so..I am content to diddle..doodle & daddle through this one (not necessarily in that order either) and wait until the next time the stars meet in the heavens..throwing us into one another’s paths.

So this life of mine..in all its splendor..dysfunction and highness..will be the gist of my writings here. I’ve reached a place where I’ve a need to seriously examine what sun-set I want to be heading towards in the second half of my life. Now..I ‘assume’ it’s the second half of my life because everything has suddenly become harder physically and more profound mentally. As well I’ll hit mid-life (50) next year. Truly I’m being just a tad presumptuous as I suppose I could drop dead like anyone else at any given time. So really the second half of my life would have begun when I was 25 or there abouts..but I digress..so for the purposes of this mission..I‘ll ‘assume’ I’ve a few more years to go yet.

If you should happen upon this blog..have a read..take my temporary hand if you dare..I don't bite..ask what you will..and enjoy the ride.

Mary Blackchurch

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