Archive for the ‘Literary’ Category


Some people who know me might have seen loads of Tweets from me about Footie (aka Soccer but the WRONG name.)

They might be questioning what is that all about? Well, quite simply, it’s a love of my life since I was a child.  The first sport I ever leaned to play.

And I fought to play it.  I grew up in a small town so trying to get Teams together for anything included the town kids, ones that lived out on farms.

I was the only girl.  Some boys screamed no girls, others didn’t care.  But I wouldn’t leave.  No way.

I’m the kind of person if you tell me I shouldn’t do it; demeaning tells me not to do it? LOOK OUT!!!

If it’s stated because I’m a woman? Oh, you think me sticking with the Football team? That was just me as a child. 

As an adult? You might not want to be in that place someone told me where I shouldn’t be–because I was I was a woman.

Sure, my Blog will still be Psych and Med focussed.  I won’t say it’s a “trap” but it just evolved that way more and more.  Both because of my readership and me as well.

THE BLOGGING CRISIS.

We’ve all been there.  Too the point of even trashing the whole thing completely!

I’m a writer so it’s the typical cursor flashing on the white screen.  You can’t produce.  Or you’re stuck in monotonous babble (or so it feels?)

You just shutdown and leave the online world.  Then you come back.  Then you leave.  Then you…  A total Yo-Yo. 

I don’t know about anyone else but this behaviour leaves me deliriously confused, and extremely guilty.  I feel like I’m letting people down.

A wonderful friend of mine who is also a Blogger always told me to try and mix things up.  Write about different things.

Ugh.  I cannot tell you how distressing that was.  Even though I wanted to do it.

So the Footie example is just one thing I want to try and do on my Blog differently. 

How about not proofing this too? Yep.  No proofing.

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Someone might be checking me out now.  Looking at my blog to find out more about me.  I’m not sure.

But that’s okay.  In fact, it’s great! I want you to know me!

However, if you are looking at my Blog and checking me out, know that I am SO much more than these words.

If you are reading, I hope you see this.  If you took a look and don’t come back? I’ll be so mad of not thinking of this sooner!

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I miss you.  As I lie on my bed listening to my Wittner. 

You said you’d never play for me.  The one you had was too beat up and broken.  You’d do much better on a new one.

I didn’t care.  All I wanted was just a few notes? Anything? Even just record a scale on an .mp3?

Did I tell you about my Grandparents Wittner? I don’t think I did.  We never talked about using the tools to learn.  You had already reached your highest level of Certification.

Wittners are the best ever made.  The one my Grandparents had was already an antique when I played with it as a child.

It would last forever.  Turn the golden ring on the side until tight.  Then after, do it again, so long it would run, so long it would never stop!

Beautiful oak(?) What does or did such dark wood look to a child.  Unvarnished as an antique but only a couple of small scratches?

That was because it was actually used.  The middle son played music fabulously.  I don’t think without a single lesson either.

He was the quiet one.  He and his wife were the nicest ones to me. 

In fact, I realized that none of them were really nice to me at all.  Over all the years no matter who came and went.  That’s because as an adult many, many years later, I found out they had ALL kept a secret from me.

I wasn’t blood related to them.  I was conceived with another man of another race.  It happened while overseas while my supposed father was working in Pakistan in the 1960’s.

Back then, Companies paid for entire families to travel anywhere if someone had to go there to work.  So my mother and my older sister went too.

And my mommy fell in love with my biological daddy.  Or actually, it was the other way around.  My mommy was shy and he fell for her at first sight.

I don’t talk to anyone who is not biologically related to me anymore. Except for one person who never cared about it, and I didn’t realize how much he loved me.  Until he told me so.

But I miss that Wittner.  So I bought two smaller ones for myself.  Although suppose I don’t need to miss their Wittner.  Because I don’t miss any of them.

But I still miss you.  R.

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No doubt my readers from The Country of Scotland, The Gaelic, and Former People Lounging on Hadrian’s Wall, will know this expression.  This is due to its historical origin of these people’s Geographical Location.

Granted, that is purely anecdotal evidence from an old, Scottish Gentleman I know.  I have yet to find any Peer Reviewed Studies.

Also, there is a high probability it is known by the People of Great Britain, England, Wales and the Republic of Ireland.

And maybe some others.  Like me.  I live in Canada.  And I love what this means.

“PISS OFF! GO FUCK YOURSELF! GODDAM, BLOODY TOSSER! USELESS EXCUSE FOR A MAN! EVEN DATING MY DISGUSTING AND FILTHY BROTHER WOULD GET ME OFF FASTER THAN YOU!”

Well, now? *raises eyebrows*  That young lady sounded a little bit upset, didn’t she?

Using the expression might not make someone go totally mental, but what it means is this.  Although I did use it from a woman’s point of view.

Euphemism (or even literally?) to get on your bike and fall off your seat.  Then hit the VERY HARD metal crossbar, and crush your balls SO MUCH TO HELL.

To the point they are barely recognizable.

Any and everyone? Please chime in if I’ve got it wrong here.

I bring all these shenanigans up because I might be able to stop saying, “Get On Yer Bike!” to myself.  There’s no way I can go cycling now, and might not EVER be able to for the rest of my life.

But I accepted that.  Like so many other things that I probably won’t be able to do for the rest of my life.  It made me sad, mad, threw me into serious states of Depression, but I made it out.

There’s a chance I can no longer say that phrase anymore.  Maybe.  Recumbent Bikes.

A neighbour on my floor rides every day like nuts.  He seems almost like a Pro! He knows my health problems and immediately said I could do it with all of the types, what would be best for me.

So however you want to do it, “Get On Yer Bike!

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Please refer to Post written directly after this one.

Well, I still don’t know what to say about Girlie Intern.  I was crying uncontrollably on the phone because that’s just what happens. 

Losing control of your emotions, that is.  Although not always over the phone.  It’s a strange feeling.  A bloody, fucking, awful feeling.

I had actually been crying all day long.  Under non-TBI conditions, I wouldn’t have cried discussing a confusing medical issue.  I wouldn’t be crying the whole day…

…unless…?

Somewhere through a half a box of tissues, I realized something familiar.  Oh, this feels like a TOTAL Aspie Meltdown!!!

There’s also another comparison.  You can feel frustrated and REALLY agitated.  So you can end up stimming all over. 

Well, I pretty much actually do it having Asperger’s.  Non-Spectrum-non-NT and NT folks? You might get a taste of our stimmy behaviour and not even know it!

Girlie Intern was actually pretty empathetic when I banged my Ace on the table.

“Have you ever worked with patients who have had really bad TBI’s?”  I don’t think it was much of an Ace considering I was bawling all over.

She had and understood that I had a total setback today.  And I mean TOTAL, TOTAL, TOTAL!!!!!!!

Oh, dear.  I am serious though.  I feel like I was just discharged from hospital yesterday.  And so it goes with TBI’s and/or head injuries that may just need some time to heal.  Or others that are more serious requiring some kind of intervention for healing.

*sighs*

This Post needs some intervention for healing, because I’m just rambling with half a head holding a broken compass.

LET’S UP THE STAKES!!! I WILL NOT PROOF THIS BEFORE I POST IT!!!

WHOO HOO!!! *laughter all around my apartment*

So anydoodle, Girlie Intern confirmed it was the right Doctor who was to order it. 

However, points for me who tipped her off to the Neurological portions of the MRI and I didn’t think it was right.  She said it was good I was paying attention!

N’yah!

She’s going to confirm that everything is right, other areas should be done? Etc.

She still wants my bloods.  Before our appointment in five days.  When I can’t get out on my own.  While there’s also a weekend in the middle there.

BUT… she also said and knows the whole roller coaster of head injuries and a TBI that’s pretty heavy duty like mine.  Thus, the only option she had for me was rest, rest, rest.

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First, I’d like to say a MASSIVE “THANK YOU!” to all of the new people–and all the others–the “old?.” *laughing*

But thank you so much for all of your new Blog Follows, your Post Likes, and Twitter Follows as well.  I am not boasting or trying to sound vain.  I never do that.  Unless I’m writing so crazily (or not?) about something, it might come across that way.

The point I’m trying to make, is that there have been so many of you.  I can’t keep track! My Inbox can get flooded and I can’t check all of you out! I want to, but on the mental market? I’m not the latest cyborg for sale.  I’m used and a refurb where the Techs didn’t do such a good job.

So I’m sorry for that.  However, I do have everything neatly organized and filed.  I can find all of you, so when I get… *sighs*

My blog sucks, as of late too.  I have a theory about all of you new people; why you’re flying all around my head, then eventually landing straight on it!

NOTE: I am in no way comparing my New Followers like any annoying insects.

My theory is, you are stumbling upon Posts from the past.  You read them, and think, “Hey! This chick’s really groovy ‘n keen ‘n lots of other ‘n stuff.   Or ‘n AWESOME one! This chick’s really out there ‘n I have no clue what sort of person but I’m kind of confused ‘n scared ‘n so curious ‘n at the same time…”

You latter folks are the bravest of all.  It’s like a, dare in your mind to nail me on my Blog, upcoming Posts and new Twitter jazz.

As far as Posts from the past, and how many of you “old guys” are perhaps still around?

I know I put a lot of you through a lot of shit! I know people have given me online defenestrations! I probably deserved it.  Then, there are all of those who have done the same–I just haven’t known about it.  Anonymous Defenestration! 

Me being tardy? My MacBook is totally screwed, so I just tried to replace some things on my Sidebar. Then, for some reason all of my months of blogging became a list!

That proves it.  A little tardy but this blog’s been up for eight years.

Supreme Insanity.

I’ll still keep blogging though.  In doing that?

Beyond Supreme Insanity.


I am a HUGE believer in Free Speech.  I think all of you readers should know that by now.

However, I refuse to (unless I just can’t help it when extremely ranty?) write things that are snarky and uncalled for, regarding someone in my personal life.

I know.  Can it, or is it a fine line?

Thus, every piece of “Dirty Laundry” is not being washed and dried, it’s been thrown into the trash.  Moreover, every Post that was related to said “Dirty Laundry” has been deleted, lest one.  A reference was was changed because I wanted to keep the Post up.

That is the most deleting I have EVER done on my Blog–that has somehow survived nine bloody years! Don’t ask me how that’s happened!

But I had to do it and I did.


ABSOLUTELY NO USE OF GOOGLE OR ANY OTHER SEARCH ENGINE!!! 

Who is the artist, and what is the title of this song based upon these lyrics:

Woman please be gone
You’ve stayed here much too long
Don’t you wish that you could cry
Don’t you wish I would die.

Seamy, seesaw kids
Childwoman on the skids
The dust will choke you blind
The lust will choke your mind.

I kiss the floor, one kick no more
The pig and hose have set me free
I’ve tasted hate street’s hanging tree
I’ve tasted hate street’s hanging tree.

[Instrumental]

I kiss the floor, one kick no more
The pig and hose have set me free
I’ve tasted hate street’s hanging tree
I’ve tasted hate street’s hanging tree.

The inner city birthed me
The local pusher nursed me
Cousins make it in the street
They marry every trick they meet.

A dime, a dollar they’re all the same
When a man comes in to bust your game
The turn key comes, his face a grin
Locks the cell I’m in again.

I kiss the floor, one kick no more
The pig and hose have set me free
I’ve tasted hate street’s hanging tree
I’ve tasted hate street’s hanging tree
I’ve tasted hate street’s hanging tree
I’ve tasted hate street’s hanging tree…

Good luck!

Oh, the prize? Me!


Sorry.  You have to read the Post I wrote before this one.  I can’t break my window.  Even with my MAGLITE.  But that’s not exactly the problem.

I just got a “Like” on it, by someone I really “Like” now.  Both blogging and music is weird.  That is completely redundant and confusing on more than “so many levels.”

Goth tunes are happening now.  I can’t defenestrate at this point. Now way! AWESOME!!!

P.S. Regarding that (on) “so many levels.”  CAN EVERYBODY STOP SAYING “GAME CHANGER!!!” Fer feck’s sake!!! Can’t anybody be original anymore? Even if I’m not sometimes? Bloody hell!


To anyone who read it, you have been a victim of my “Drunken Blogging.”  Things can get pretty out of control, and as I result, I speed right past you and pull out my insanity for a Post. WHAM! You’re off to ER if you even have a chance of survival.

If you know me, you’ll say, “Oh, Jesus Christ PA.  Here she goes AGAIN…”

If you don’t know me, and read my Drive-By(s), you will say, “Oh Jesus Christ!!! What the HELLLLL is this place??? I WANT MY MOMMMMMMEEEEEYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!”

I should throw out the pack of cigarettes I bought last night, but it feels soooooo good to have (so far just one) of them with my morning tea.  Idiot PA.  

That single one just made my chest feel like someone lighting a match.  That match was to try and start kindling wood for a campfire.  

That campfire was for an Eight Generation Family Reunion.  It was miraculous they were all still alive and showed up.  

Therefore, they all needed a nice, cozy seat around that campfire. None of them cared if the smoke literally blew straight in their faces, knocking them backwards and upside down off their chairs. They’d just pick them up again to sit back in front of that huge campfire to stay nice and cozy.

I was away for so long.  I vanished from my Blog, Twitter.  I let personal emails to those who know me in PA Land just sit too. The latter was awful.  It felt like I just hit a big “IGNORE” Button.

I’m now back to Blogging about nothing but my health.  I hated that, and it was one of the reasons I disappeared for so long-even to the point of shutting my Blog down altogether.  Well, obviously I didn’t.

However, at this time, it feels like blogging about all of this, Tweeting as well…it’s almost like the online activity is enabling me.

Moreover, I have enough triggers, and just “things” that enable ME.  It’s so bizarre but I enable myself so often.

Good god.  What was I going to say? *stumbles blindly within memory*  Well, I did just “say” some things on Twitter.

Alright.  Let me give you “The Life of PA While She Continues to Drink Every Day.”

WHOO BOY.  Also, it is important to know that she’s going through Detox and Withdrawal while still drinking.  Yes, you can actually do that.

Here we go:

– Stays in bed and does not move ALL DAY–but must do something?

– My television.  Anime with Subtitles because in English it’s awful! READING…ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??? MAYBE ONE LINE? That can make the Anime Subs REALLY hard.  I’m surprised the Rewind Button on my Remote Control still works! Anime out the window.  Regular TV? Nothing on and the programming can lick freshly plopped sheep shit.  A movie of my own.  Total Rewind Button again, because I can’t keep up with the plot and what people are saying.

– Actually, a bit of reading: Graphic Novels and Manga are okay, but I reserve them for going out and drinking. Why do I do this? I have no fucking clue.

– I still have my “To Don’t Lists”© but they are COMPLETELY unrealistic.  Therefore, I have reduced them to daily tasks.  I did that one time while still lying in bed.  Does that count as a daily task? While still feeling like the Grim Reaper is coming in 10 minutes?

– Dishes do not get done.  They take up every piece of usable space in my kitchen.  I wash one spoon and one bowl if I need them to eat.  Nothing else.  This lasts forever.  Like washing myself too.  Yep.

– I do not listen to music during the day.  I choose that form of media when coming home from the bar in whatever shape I’m in.  I guess it’s just a “Let’s Keep The Party Going!!!” I have no clue about this either.  And yes, the music is always blasting.

– I forget every.single.thing.  Thank you calendars with reminders on mobiles!!! Unless I forget to put the information in.  #epicepicepicepicDISASTER *wants to cry*

– I’ve shit my pants.  Twice.  Once when I was awake and once when I was asleep.

– I have a very intimate relationship with the bank machine across the street.  I’m just waiting for it to propose with a gorgeous ring!!!

– Two cuttings, one requiring sutures.

– I don’t bother drinking tea (today is the first day in months!) Why bother? I’m just going lie in bed all day.  Time escapes me until…I start to perk up when I usually go out to drink!!! My body now seems in a trap of a pattern of “needing” alcohol? Not good!!! At least I’m not a “Fall Down Drunk.”  Nope.  No injuries to report.

I “think?” that’s enough? I won’t bother getting into more of the Detox and Withdrawal Issues.  No doubt they are playing very big role in this as well as my addiction.

When I’m online, I’m so bloody slow, it takes me hours to respond to a simple email! Time has yet escaped me here? How long have I been simply writing this Post and going on and on…not even proofing or editing at all? About three hours.

This is where I need to vanish yet again.  I’ve spent my entire days and into the evening in PA Land.  Times when I should be trying to maybe get some help.  Some help until I go to my Outpatient Program and then when that is done, Inpatient for three weeks.

Even if I can’t get any, I have to concentrate very hard on my own to fight to do other things.  Like tie myself to my bed! Lock myself into my own apartment, even stop writing here and if I get the musedom, apply it to my own writing.

I’ll be back.  When I can hopefully somehow get some HAAAAAAALLLLLLPPPPP!!!!!!!!! 

Whether it comes from me, hospital etc.  Even if it’s not until Inpatient, you know PA always Blogs from her Hospital Stays.  She can never resist that. *laughing*

Lots of love to you all,
PA