Still on the Edge in Sumas

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I'm back at the UW hospital after an all-to-quick visit home to Sumas and the dog (and lots of bills waiting at the post office). Mark was to get released today, but still gets lightheaded due to low blood pressure, so they're keeping him till Friday. So I'm back and hard up for entertainment and whatever else. He lost his glasses during one of the last five (!) room changes so we'll be shopping for replacements when we get out. Plus, SCCA wants him in their clinic every day almost for blood draws etc, so no more trips north for awhile. Soggy drive here today.

The home care worker job they gave me to supplement his Medicare COPES program is another weird layer of... weird. But at least its working; I get paid by the state just enough to offset the co-pay. Except now that were in King County the social service offices all change. A cut for everyone.

At home lots of ideas around putting together my master project to date: DOCTOR REDUCTO's RATHER SMALL MIXED MEDIA CIRCUS (on land and sea). Featuring spins, rants, and of course lots of hype. That is spinning acrobats, ranting roadies, and hyper human cannonballs! Woo Hoo! Hmm maybe a high-wire elephant act...

My my my... I've stumbled upon the secret to posting remotely. Lucky you.

Happy April to us all. Life is essentially two things right now: daytime at UW hospital; nighttime at the temporary apartment in Eastlake. Best news all week is that Mark seems to have an appetite again. We will still have a very long ways before he's ready to head back to Sumas for even a brief weekend, but its definitely progress after so many weeks of taking food via IV. Meanwhile I spend many nights feeling isolated and bored and lonely and horny and basically hating the city. First Thursday artwalk I made it downtown -barely- before Mark called and asked me to come back to the hospital; I think he just needed a bit of company. So after a quick walk through the Calder exhibit I hopped the trolley back to the hospital.

Lately I've found I prefer secondhand shopping to sex, a situation that needless to say is fraught with frustration not to mention other multiple unhealthy side effects. Therapy would seem in order, however I've already suffered four years of that, so I'd argue I'm about as well adjusted as I'm going to get. Which aint say'n much. The beauty of thrift shops is you can always find something to take your mind off things. Something shiny that needs to be fixed or decorated or incorporated into some future diversion. Nobody can divert quite as well as I can. Of course the downside is I'm increasingly fucked up and horny. But I don't really want anonymous sex with all that that entails (rejection, disease, soul crushing despair); nor is it fair to seek out anything more meaningful with somebody else, even with Mark's knowledge and permission since most people prefer some amount of fidelity.

I almost wish I had one of those monomogous relationships where one of them (not me)totally sublimates their own dreams and desires in favor of their partner's (me). Who wouldn't? Answer: Those of you way healthier than me. But no, I have to have the type of partnership in which we each try to make the other a better, more complete, individual. Overrated if you ask me.

Lordy: Today is day 2 of the so-called harvest, in which the Care Alliance people take out Mark's blood, run it through a centrifuge, ad return it to him sans stem cells. Best news for me today is I can take time off work (w/o pay) and they'll even farm out my most headachy project to an outside A/E firm. More later.

My life is insane and over booked like I cant even say. Not in a good way. Happy thoughts don't always cut it. I have no time now except for caring for my bf who is about to join the darkest journey that Fred Hutchinson in Seattle can offer. Out of the UW hosp late yesterday... today back at the SCCA clinic for blood work and stem cell harvest. They call it aphorisis for some reason. Then later, with luck a few days in Sumas with the dog. Its the small things. Then back here.

Alright fine, I'll admit that selling the Fashion Police car is more about moving on to something else that isn't quite so hard to park, and if I can make a couple bucks on the deal then that's good too. Its not like I'll ever turn a profit, unless someone offers me twenty thousand. So at the risk of putting the wrong energy out into the multi-universe I'll just say that I doubt it'll sell anyways, given "these current economic times" yadda yadda. Poor Whoretense.

No, don't pitty me--life is exceptionally good right now, this summer has in fact, kicked some serious party ass. I've done quite well and its only mid August. No idea how long the ride lasts but who does. Heck I could last another 30 years and maybe even turn out some more very fun stuff (or better some sick, twisted shit) but then again--I'm just say'n.

Buy my car--save it from the crusher!

Spent last Friday visiting Boston Bar, British Columbia, to make sure everything is okay at the cabin for the coming snow storm (today). Everything was okay...so we had time on the way back to stop in and visit the Elvis Rocks the Canyon cafe for something to eat. Little did we know that a major Xmas explosion was happening there, and I do mean major. We got away without injury-->

For a charming, odd, and only a bit shakey Xmas disturbia vid (2 minutes) click here:



Just mind blowing...hats off to Norm and Deb of the Elvis Cafe! More pics: