Smoking pot

I think that that title is a bit misleading... this is more about choices and chances and decisions I suppose.

Smoking pot comes into it for sure :) 

Over the past few months, as most of you know, I have been making some changes in my life, making healthy choices, things that will carry me forward into the new year on a different level emotionally and spiritually.  I attend church on Sundays.....yes... church.... even though I am gay, I KNOW God loves me and I attend church because it fulfills a need in me and I am proud to go, and openly admit that I say special prayers in times of need, whether it be my need or someone else's. 

I believe that I have come to the place in my life where I am for a purpose... A way perhaps, for me to grow up and evolve into the person I want to be rather than the person that circumstances dictates.

I ended an unhealthy relationship, and with that ending, I lost a lot of people whom I thought were my friends.  They were not my friends, though I had afforded them that title, through lack of loyalty, they proved that they are not worthy of that special place.  I realize that those people were people brought into my life so that I could see what is healthy and what isn't.  So that I could recognize healthy friendships, loyalty, and honesty on the most straight forward level.. Offered to me by people who stand to gain nothing by befriending me.  They do not have ulterior motives for this friendship, but they have shown me that they belong here.

I have downsized much of my home with the assistance of some spectacular friends who live in my complex.  I reduced the debt in my life by 30% along with reducing the electricity, gas and services that we use... I have limited the times I buy lunch, opting again for somthing home cooked, and only turning to store bought when it is a treat.

I have cleaned my home... cleaned the clutter and negativity... honestly, there is still MORE clutter, but I am the child of a hoarder, clutter isn't TERRIBLE... it is clean and not useless stuff so I accept this failing (we did discuss my trouble with cleaning lol). 

I quit smoking the other day.  This was a pretty healthy thing to do and I am SO happy that I have done it.  I always said if I could make it the first 48 hours, I would be ok... I am on hour 60 now... I'm good.  I don't even WANT a smoke...

Now, there are 2 other things that I have been working toward... 1) getting some more exercise... .I used to go to West Coast Swing dancing, however, like the Lesbian community, there is DRAMA and jealousy int he dance community and I don't GET it, don't want to get it and have stepped away from the whole mess.   So, I registered for Yoga tomorrow after work... wish me luck people!!!  My neighbor has stated that Yoga is good for your mental health, and since I am working on improving so many different parts of me, to learn who I am and to see and set my boundaries and limits, getting in touch with my chi (or touching my chi, or what have you)  I deeply believe, will be healthy for me.

The last thing is smoking Pot.  It's funny actually, not in a haha way, but funny as in curious...

I have been thinking about the fact that I smoke weed, for a long time.  I mean, I go weeks sometimes without getting high.  I go on vacation, don't know anyone who has it, don't care about it... if I am home or going dancing or such, I may smoke pot... I don't always, it is a take it or leave it kind of thing.  If I am with a group of people who don't do it, I dont do it... which leads me to really look at my pot smoking habit in earnest.

I have seen drugs ruin people's lives... I am not one to do ANYTHING to access.... so, pot smoking, like most things, is something I have traditionally done for shits and giggles... not something i HAVE to do, or want to do, sometimes i will quit for weeks, just because I want to.... so that begs the question.... why do I still smoke pot?  I mean... I don't smoke all the time.... why not just step away from it?  I quit smoking cig's and correct me if I am wrong, but the smoke from pot is probably just as, or close to just as bad for your health (no nicotine, butt there are other things... whether mental health patients, people with addictive personalities... basically bad stuff/guys)... Pot can be the gateway drug, I have always believed that, though not the way that the propaganda is distributed... there are too many facts and hints and leaks that point to something curious about the way the drugs/court cases have been going..  With the amount of people who are responsible for other people, for businesses and so forth, and they smoke weed, I find this interesting, but then I see the second wave... the younger people, my kids' ages, who smoke weed, and that makes me stop and take stock of where I am on this scale. 

So I have started to look at it... when do I smoke weed, what do I get out of it, how often do I smoke it, why do i smoke it... does it fix anything, does it repair anything, does it REALLY take me away from the shitty place i am dealing with a shitty situation??? 

I have to be honest, I have SERIOUSLY considered quitting smoking weed.... Not because someone said i have to.... though someone's not smoking kind of speeds up the process a bit.... because honestly, I have had women tell me that I can't smoke weed, meanwhile they drink their faces off (i don't really drink and don't like people who get really drunk)... so... then it became "well, u drink"... but now it has become... "why do i do this" all over again.

I recently spoke to someone whom I think is interesting... pot is something that is not an option if that is a road I want to travel... and I have been asking myself as of late, just how important it is to me to smoke weed.... Is it more important than getting to know someone?  Is it more important than saving money?  Is it more important than my health (if i have quit CIGARETTES, IT WOULD BE STUPID TO CONTINUE SMOKING WEED)....what is the draw to my teen game?  I haven't been a dedicated pot smoker for a long time, though I have smoked it and think to each their own.... is now, with all my other health changes... is this another one of the things in my life that I am changing right now...


I'm pretty sure it is. And I feel pretty damn good about it

Clique????

I was recently taking part in a conversation about the cliques in the Lesbian community…. Now, I believe that FEAR has a lot to do with it…. Not so much cliques, but deep down fear…. This, of course can be found in the heterosexual community as well.  The difference of course, in my opinion, is that in the hetero community, as a woman, the majority of us are making friends with OTHER women, which is not so daunting in that community because in that case, your FRIENDS are not a combo of a dating pool.  I saw that someone had also said that some women see going for coffee = a date…. I really have been thinking about this since then…

I think it is awful to judge people and call fear anything other than it is.  It IS real and is disrespectful not to respect that people have it.  I have been in the community for years and I have seen some pretty awful things, with dating in a small community, everyone knows everyone who knows someone who dated that one... by the time you are "in" the community you have a virtual background on EVERYONE you meet.  Say you and your partner break up and she goes around badmouthing you in the community, and say she is more "in" than you are, then you have this group of 30 (or more or less) women who know INTIMATE details about you, about how you feel.... let's be honest, we can all have the non-flattering opinions and thoughts about our ex's.... so then once we have that opinion....we have a pre-judgment of that person... Or when a couple breaks up suddenly there is this HUGE divide, your friends are yours and mine are mine, and ours pick sides, or my friends decide to be your friends and your friends decide not to be anyone’s friends and our friends decide we are both assholes so they ditch us too….

Now we have a choice, we can ignore what others say, and just risk it all by getting to know someone new, but BELIEVE ME, sometimes you ignore what you are told and you REALLY, REALLY should have listened, and by the time  you figure it out, it really is too late.... Or you can judge according to what you hear.  I mean, think about it… I GUARANTEE that there are some seriously shitty opinions of me in the community, not by everyone; I am sure, but enough people that I ABSOLUTELY balk at meeting someone new.  I tend to stick with people I know, whose motives for knowing me are known rather than reaching out to meet someone new.  Even now, when someone sends me a friend request, my FIRST thought is WHY?

It is a scary community with the cliques for sure, and venturing out into said community is a daunting task at best.  But how can it NOT be?

I have been guilty of making a “date” and having me believe it is a date, but having them believe it isn’t, because my friend pool and my dating pool are one in the same…. I have also been guilty of going on a “date” that I thought was simply coffee and spending my time talking about useless nonsense and ruining any chance of dating said woman… I have talked about my ex with my friends who are no longer friends, thereby my thoughts of my ex are now fodder for other people to talk about.  I meet someone new and find out that they are associated with my ex (when it is a bad break up, THIS can be an issue) so things trail off right away because I like my privacy.  Or I meet someone new and they start telling me they heard about this girl (don’t have a name) and then proceed to describe my last relationship, which means, somebody, somewhere is talking about me…  Or I meet someone and then I try to mesh them with other people I am friends with and they don’t get along.. Or I throw a party and go through the invitation list and see that some of my friends don’t know each other, then I have to try to figure out if those friends that don’t know each other will think that their counter parts DO know someone… Or I will invite a group of people who are MY friends and then half won’t show up because they DO know each other and don’t like each other….

I’m not so comfortable with picking and choosing people who I can and can’t hang out with based on their friendships, but then again, I’m the kind of person who thinks “the more the merrier” so tend to have a friend base with at least a few things in common between them all… Call it a clique; I simply call it planning well…. Fact is… my friends (not very many people I consider my FRIENDS) know that I like to socialize in bigger groups (easier to determine if it is a date if there are 3 or more people… WAYS easier than asking) and that way lots of people can entertain each other… but planning these things proves difficult as well.

So I speak for myself, and myself alone when I say that I am not part of a clique, or a judgmental group of friends, but I feel safe in my little group and someone has to really prove themselves when they want to join said group… I don’t want to get burned; I don’t want my life/friends/interests all over the community…. I am deathly afraid of MANY aspects of the community, but it certainly isn’t a clique… to look at it as such gives it such a childish air… and I am no child.  Fact of the matter is, when you are a teenager, there are cliques for sure, people who discern others based on ridiculous little factors (sports/pretty/cheerleaders/geeks/band/nerds/nobodies/Goths/etc) but once we start to grow up, to mature and to REALLY get to know people, I think it is more than a clique, deeper.  These are adults, who have, I can ALMOST guarantee, been burned a time or two, and are leery of letting others close… and REALLY…. can you blame us?

That said…. this is simply my thoughts on it….

Sky train

I seldom drive into Vancouver. There are a couple of reasons for this... the gas in my cute little lunch buggy is ridiculous! Seriously 70 dollars to fill the tank?? I gotta take it in its making some kind of strange sound.  Another reason is that I don't like city driving. I don't want to pay parking... where I park its cheap (no I'll never tell str8 up, people keep trying to one up me on low traffic areas)... and really... sometimes I just want to be... not concentrate on other drivers trying to arrive alive!!

But yes, the sky train...that is, after all what I am writing about...

Last week I met some girls on the train... I recall their names and their faces... cloe, Susan, Ali and (shit... I lied.... I forget a name....) they were off to the Madonna concert all beautiful and young.  I wish I were young like that :-)

These beautiful girls seem to flock together don't they.... its like mercury in a thermometer isn't it??   Here they were.... Ali's red shorts and matching red lipstic.... Cloe's dark hair... the classic beauty of Susan... the girl who's name escapes me.... so beautiful.... I once knew q girl who looked like that... her name was carol... I thought... as a heavy girl, that she was a snob.... and so I avoided her... it turned out that she liked me from afar... silly assumptions. 

The girl on the end gave me the idea for this post.... as I read my Facebook pretending to ignore these beautiful girls I heard her say in a manly voice... BEFORE I BECAME A MAN"

These girls were all of the things I grew up being jealous of.... and yet in the back of my mind...carol speaks to me...reminding me that looks can be deceiving and discriminating against beautiful girls because of their beauty is the same as discriminating against me on the basis of my being heavy...

So, ladies... thank you for being beautiful... thank you for being you and thank you for reminding me that not everything is as it seems.

The summer I turned 13

I can’t remember what I did the summer I was 13.  I don’t really remember much about it.  I learned about drugs and lying to my mother, I learned that I really didn’t like to kiss boys.    One day I was at the local public pool and my sister was outside of the pool fence.  I was in the pool, a fat, unattractive girl, heavy already, already the brunt of many cruel jokes.  My sister was with her group of friends… the cool kids.  The cool kids teased me too, but not as much as everyone else, they didn’t tease me because of respect.  Not respect for me, but for my older sister who was as much of a “rocker” as they were, the only difference between us, she smoked and was thin, she had a boyfriend and had smoked pot.  

As I played in the pool, the kids around me were all yelling, calling me a whale and making rude fart noises whenever I walked by.  God, I really loved to go to the pool, the feeling of being weightless was such joy for me…..God I really hated going to that pool, the feeling of being stared at, called names, having derogatory terms thrown at me as though I was just a wall that they could graffiti anything that they wanted on it and it would make no difference.

I heard Dena before I saw her; she was yelling, cursing and laughing.  Once she saw that she had my attention she called me over to the fence where she waited for me, surrounded by her “gang” of friends.  I suppose, looking back on it, that she was trying to be cool by corrupting someone younger than she.  I arrived at the fence as Dena lit a cigarette, it was Export A blue I think….   She asked me if I wanted a drag of her smoke and trying to be cook, I said yes.  I took a puff off the cigarette and lit it out right away, not inhaling at all but still thinking that I had the look of someone cool.  Dena’s friends all burst out laughing at my pitiful attempt at smoking, yelling and jeering, saying that I was a “goody goody” because I couldn’t smoke.  “You get the same effect by sticking your head in a fireplace,” they yelled.  Determined, I tried again.   This time I succeeded in inhaling the smoke into my lungs.  The burning in my lungs was the only thing I was conscious of; I need so badly, to get a drink of water.  The tightness in my chest was scary, so I did the first thing that came to mind, I jumped into the pool….. Definitely not one of the smartest things I have ever done, I must admit, but I did it anyway.  I was in the deep end of the pool, gasping for breath, breathing only water deep into my lungs which made me cough more.  I couldn’t breathe, I was panicking, I felt like I was going to die and couldn’t figure out which way was up.  

Being a heavy girl, I float; luckily it doesn’t take long so I floated to the surface where I managed to breathe in great gulps of air, coughing between each inhalation.  My head started to hurt, the pounding of my heartbeat reverberated through my head as with having the music too high right next to my ears.  The life guards, not having seen what had transpired beforehand, jumped into the pool to rescue me.  I felt so powerful and so protected.  The smoking was stupid, it hurt and I should have learned my lesson, I didn’t but that is a storey for another time.

The summer before grade eight, I learned the lengths I would go to please someone else, to get their approval.  I went to these lengths for many years, pleasing others were such a priority.  That summer was full of firsts for me.  The first time I kissed a boy, smoked a cigarette, smoked a joint and drank alcohol.  My 13^th summer, I learned to lie to my mother when I stayed out past curfew, where to hide when one of my sisters friends spotted my mother and who was my friend and who wasn’t.  I spent the summer trying to fit into a group of peers who frightened me, hoping that when I entered high school I would no longer carry the burden of being different.  I went to camp in August of that year.  It was the end of my innocence and the beginning of a spiral into self-punishment, hatred and conspiracy.  That year, we went to Alice Lake and I finally fit it.  I fit in with the cool kids!  They asked me to sit on the beach and smoke cigarettes and pot, drink with the guys and keep watch while they had sex.

That summer I got a bug stuck in my hair for 3 hours and no one could find it.  It walked, creeping, tickling, and teasing my conscious mind back and forth across my head like a thought that doesn’t quite form…. Niggling, you know it is there, just not what it is….  At camp that year I hung out with the man I would eventually marry, at far too young an age, for all too many wrong reasons, who would father my children and who struggled as hard to fit in as I did. 

We signed each other’s shirts, went midnight swimming against camp rules and sang rock songs at the top of our lungs… 

The year I turned 13 was the first and last year that I was cool and it was a mind blowing year!