Cait Interrupted

Hi friends,

Alas, where do I even begin…

Monday I was admitted into emergency. Now, in my mind absolutely no real emergency whatsoever. I say this because, for the last two days I was just indifferent. I felt empty, I felt like any feeling I ever felt was gone and that for the remainder of my so-called life I would always feel just this…just…desolate. Cait’s very own wasteland. A place that used to be bumping full of energy and smiles and happy-go-lucky type shit. Now it’s just nothing. An abandoned amusement park, no longer amusing.786e44a15f57dded1b6359cd0e6cfd32

This year has been quite the rollercoaster to say the least and fuck do I ever hate using that metaphor, but it is so true. Up and down, then stalls, then up and down, then some bitch loses her phone because she’s a fucking idiot for trying to take a selfie with a phone……UGH!!!!!!!!!!! This ride isn’t fun anymore.

I called my mom on Monday. I was sad. I often call mom when I am sad. I don’t mean too, and I hate to have her feel helpless because she isn’t here, but there are only few people I feel semi-okay/butnotreally/butitstheclosestIwillgettofeelingcomfortablewithsomeone.

If mom is busy, I call the ex. Now, before you guys go to any conclusions let me explain something to you. My ex and I have been broken up for two years now. In the beginning I would do my best not to call him in these moments, simply because I didn’t want him to feel used. I didn’t want him to feel like I only called him because for 8 years we were together and it was routine, it was comfort. However, he knows me. He knows I’m incredibly stubborn, he knows I hate feet, he knows the scars on my body (inside and out), he knows about my secret obsession with nutcrackers (shhhhh it’s a secret!). He just knows me. He perhaps, is my closest confidant.

On Monday, after being on the phone with my mom, I called the ex. We decided it was time to take me in. Where folks? TO THE LOONY BIN OF COURSE! Kidding! I get I’m crazy, but I am not quite girl interrupted yet. Hospital it is.

On the way to there, I was thinking two things: 1) This isn’t a real emergency? 2) So craving a Happy Meal…

We get there and it isn’t busy one bit. Thank gawd too. I would hate to have someone with a machete in their head or someone birthing a goat have to wait on me just because I am having a sad, sad day.

I was shocked. And I don’t know why I was so shocked, but when I got there everyone was so comforting. The nurses seem to genuinely care about my well being. They didn’t want me to leave, they didn’t want me to feel sadness anymore, they truly wanted to help me. So much in fact they bumped me up before a sick baby. Sorry sick baby, but Cait’s a baby too….

They brought me in to see a psychoanalyst. I forget her name, but she was quite lovely. They also brought in a general physician.I was broken friends. I couldn’t stop feeling sad, I couldn’t stop crying. How did I let it get to this point? ME! Cait the mother fucking great, the toughest cookie in town was crumbling.

I talked to ….lets call her Miss Lovely (psychoanalyst). She truly was lovely. She seemed to have compassion for me, she wanted to understand, she genuinely was listening to all my words and ramblings. She asked me questions, upon questions, but for once I didn’t mind. She asked me about my drug use, I was honest. About my diet, I was honest, about any past or present relationships and in that I tried not to share. I tried not to be honest, but in the end she knew the whole story.

Miss Lovely, then talked to the ex. Since he knows me best, sometimes I think better than I know myself. They both came in a short time later.

I will now be going to an outpatient treatment center. Just to have someone to talk to once 3a51a-depressiontwo8-2in awhile. Someone who can hopefully help me sort out my shit. Someone who is either willing or at least paid to listen to my stories (and I got lots of them stories).

It was funny, on the drive home, the ex turn towards me and… Miss Lovely was so fuck foxing, I should got her number….ugh!!!!! BOYS!!! We had a laughed. He dropped me off, helped cleaned my place a bit, tucked both Bear and I into bed and then it was Tuesday. A new day, still a sad one, but then it’ll be Wednesday, then Thursday, and if it’s true what They say (who ever They are), every day gets better. And I’ve finally taken steps to get better myself.

#Single

First off, I CHOSE TO BE SINGLE! After a seven year relationship that probably lasted two years longer than it should have, I finally stopped the procrastination and made a choice. TO. BE. SINGLE. Although a rather scary thought after being in a relationship for eons I took the plunge! It was and still is the best choice for me. At least for now.

OKAY, now that that is out of the way.While being a single lady, I’ve realized quite a few things about myself.

Such as:

  • I’ve resorted to climbing on counters to get to the top shelves. I haven’t done this in quite some time. Basically, I need a kitchen built for gnomes.
  • Zippers on the back of dresses will be the death of me. Seriously, I literally have to stretch and work up to doing up my zippers. This usually ends up with me asking thy neighbour to help a sista out. They have since blocked my phone calls and have posted neighbourhood watch signs all over the street.
  • I sleep easier. Granted I have two massive dogs that are the biggest cuddle bugs you could ever have. Makes the slumber more cozy.
  • I’m not as lonely as I thought I would be.  Sure I have moments where loneliness kicks in. Especially in the beginning, I thought I was the loneliest ‘sac de shit’. But it does get easier, every day gets better. Slowly, but surely.
  • I don’t feel as guilty masturbating. But i will say my hand may now have carpal tunnel (not so sure how I feel about that). This also reminds me that my booty call list is no longer applicable to me. Half are married, crazy and don’t have pagers anymore.
  • I’ve gained more of my independence back. Its super empowering and makes me feel like a real person.
  • No one is there to judge me for all the shitty shows I watch. And I watch some pretty questionable shows. My cat however, judges me, but that is just in everything I do.
  •  I drink more water. I don’t know if that has to do with me being single or the UTI I had a month ago.
  • The most action I’ve had in the last few months is someone calling me while my phone is in my pocket on vibrate. I never pick up. 079b84c331d6dbc7bf2e053a4fbc87a3
  • I don’t feel guilty for hanging out with my friends and coworkers.
  • I can cook whatever I want and not be bitched out for the crap I eat, Hey! I love my KD Tuesdays okay.
  • No arguments over video game time. Video game time is my time, all the time.
  • I don’t have to smell anybody else’s farts.
  • The only ego I need to stroke is now my own. I am so proud of you, Cait!
  • The only arguments I have are with me, myself and I. Usually, we are all on the same side.
  • Perhaps, the most beneficial aspect of being single for me is working on myself. WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT!!

I’m sure when I’m a 40 year old spinster my views may change a little, but thus far being single is A O K with me.

Pollinated by the Wind.

GUESS WHAT FUCKERS!!! I’M BACK!!! Now isn’t that just the sweetest way to say HELLO after almost a year or so hiatus. Truth be told, I have been blogging, documenting life’s little tidbits in my trusty little handwritten book, and just be too god damn lazy to type them up. But don’t worry dear friends. Time will come when these lil doodle poetics will be placed on the cyber net for your viewing pleasure only.

Anywho, I thought I’d blog ya’lls with a lil update on me. (So not narcissistic at all)….

So since I’m a 27 year old biddy, and excellent at writing lists, that is what I shall do.

  • My last blog was about me getting a baby. And no, I’m not talking about shitting out a kid or buying Mongolian toddlers from the black market. I got myself, a dog, name Barrie St.Bernard. And yes, that is his full name.
  • My cat Olive, only enjoys Barrie St.Bernard for the shear fact he eats her shit. Other than that, he is the Bane of her existence. (And yes, Bane as in Batman.)
  • I’ve up and left my last humble abode. And graduated from the Upper Ghetto of New West to Chateau El’La Shanty Town, Burnaby.
  • My 6th anniversary with my man was forgotten. La Fin.ac48f32f3daca5a9f9eb4d8686938ff2
  • I looked in the mirror one day and realized how time flies by. Also discovered a new freckle. I named it Dotty
  • Did spring cleaning in December and liked it. Also found some cheese string in a pair of denims I haven’t worn since circa,08;
  • Became addicted to Red Bull after a gaming marathon which resulted in me stroking out after I lost 142 of my saves.
  • My girlfriend passed away this summer. Incredibly heart-breaking.
  • Finally, a few of the movies I worked on are out. Check out, Step Up 5, Big Eyes, If I Stay, Night of The Museum 3 and more. I will say this my endeavors of becoming an actor have resulted in me being ‘arm-candy’, a statue, ‘girl with tray’, serving wench, ‘sad girl 2’, ‘a hungry I’, ‘wedding guest’ , ‘hand double’ etc.…My resume must be looking pretty tasty right about now.
  • Did the ALS ice bucket challenge and actually donated 100$.
  • I still wear a fanny pack.
  • My daily trips to the dog park without a dog park are no more! I am now a real person and have Barrie to venture to the parks too. Perfect place to smoke my medicine, and unwind while Barrie roams free in a fenced off area, a place that resembles a concentration camp. Anne Frank would be proud…How…ideal…
  • Convinced myself that rolling my eyes is burning calories. FYI it is.
  • I now practice drinking coffee black/decaf/with a straw/peppermint gum. Why I’m practicing? Fuck if I know.
  • Held my fart in once for a whole day, just so I could dutch-oven my man, after he forgot to take out the trash. (Future reference for anyone who has the pleasure of living with me. TAKE OUT THE TRASH).
  • New Love: Matthew Goode.
  • I realized:…..even-god-wont-save-you-worst-bad-childrens-book-vintage
  • Finally retired my Peter Rabbit stuffy to the closet. Don’t worry I’m sure he will come out of the closet again. If Anne Heche can, Peter Rabbit can too.
  • I now only make status updates on Facebook while sitting on the toilet.
  • Decided to take up cooking, by buying a microwave. Only to return it, when I realized I don’t enjoy cooking.
  • Attempted to hold a quarter in my stink crease. (Still have not found the quarter)
  • Slept in the parking lot of Timmy Ho’s. (Clearly, a high point in my life).
  • Put my car Mia, out to pasture. She’s such a slag.
  • Went home for the holidays to see the fam. So in love with being the crazy auntie from out West.
  • I wrote Dr. Phil a love letter. Also went into great detail about how I feel I’ve been pollinated by the wind. He has yet to respond. Xoxo.
  • All summer I feasted on Mexican food while living in this great city of ours.
  • YOLO, mother fucker, YOLO.

Cait Tid-Bits #2

Never hold in a fart, always let ‘er rip.

  • #1 it ain’t healthy to keep them gases up in yer keaster
  • #2 it shows confidence (trust me on this one)

Lighten the fuck up. Most things in life shouldn’t be taken so seriously.

  • If you don’t get that the job you’ve been eyeing up-become a hooker,
  • You fail your mid term-study! Or better yet sit next to the Asian kid (in my case, Chun Li),
  • A baby destroyed your vagina-well there are some people in the world with out vaginas…I think you get the drift

It always could be worse. Seriously, zombie apocalypse, Beiber for president, Danny Devito clones, killer clowns etc, etc, etc.

Wake up and fucking stretch.

Find a friend named Lily, I’ve never met a Lily I didn’t like.

Find a friend named Michael (aka Mike). Everyone knows ones, usually he’s your common douche mouthing off to nuns and immigrants, but everybody needs one (he’ll make you feel better about yourself).

Workout! I don’t care if your pumping iron, dancing, fucking, walking, tippy toeing on a treadmill or whatever the fuck. Move your body and move it often! Exercise is great for the mind and the body. You’ll feel great and look great.

I hate to say it but money does make the world go ‘round. Unless you sucking off Bill Gates you need to spend within your means! Spoil yourself here and there, but if you’re consistently buying yourself designer brands and lap dances, you’ll be scrounging the alleyways for caps.

Smack someone with The Bible.

Don’t eat East Indian food. (I was hugging porcelain for days).

High-5 someone at least once a day.

Own a pet. Me? I got my boyfriend and my awesome four-legged roommate feline, Olive.

Don’t do the idiot test.

Read a book.

Try smoke and a pancake.

Try cigarettes and chocolate milk.

Remember the world doesn’t revolve around you, however ‘your’ world does. So tell people off, throw down your grump thunder, hire a middle-aged Filipino to fan you with a giant leaf, kick old geezers off your curb. You’ll be a douche if you do so, but in this world it is yours. However, if you aren’t such a rage warrior, then you can milk a cow, hand ribbons for participation and eat a dick.

Fin.

Cait Tid-Bits #1

I am going to start trying something a little different now in my blogging. Not worry, I won’t get to sappy. I’m thinking from time to time I will write little blogs here and there revealing things about it. Just little tidbits to let you inside my mind a bit and muck about. 

Here goes!

ImageI despise Ryan Gosling. I DO! I can’t quite put my finger on it either. Part of me things he is completely over-rated and the other part can’t get Young Hercules out of my head. 

All I know is if he Hey Girl‘d me I’ve smack his ass (and no not in a form of coitus).

 

I once confused someone’s fart for a two egg breakfast…

My favourite pass time is sleep.

I am claustrophobic. Like actually so. Getting into an elevator is like shitting out a brick. It’s hard and rough, but somehow I get through it. Airplanes are the worst for me, I’m ordering beers every time turbulence hits. (I once saw a cat on the airplane wing, but that wasn’t the beer)

I play the shit out of video games. Through and through. I can’t rush through any game, I need to find all the nooks and cranny’s. Games with zombies aide me in overcoming me fears of not being able to find hidden gems and achievements. LEFT FOR DEAD my friends, DON’T BE A HERO.

ImageYou know how they say, you are what you eat? Well, after a hearty bowel movement I tend to take a look back, you know to see if she sinks or floats. A couple of times for a couple of days it was all blue. I’m talking about Queen Elizabeth royal blue. I’ve never been able to look a blue sour candies the same again.

After a long 8 hour drive to my grandma’s with 5 passengers and a dog in a crammed vehicle my claustrophobic ass could not wait to get out of the damn clown car. Unfortunately, the old man pushed the breaks a little to far and as I was leaning forward my dog flung backwards and my finger….my poor finger….it was my dogs first unintentional enema. The poor pooch couldn’t look at me for a week.

My grandma knocked me out when I was a wee little lass. After her countless calls for me to go to bed, I put my acting skills to use and pretending to sleep on the couch with my eyes open, while Dallas was on the TV. So be the good, kind lady she was and still is she picked me up by the ankles, carried me up the stairs and my head hit the banister on the way up. Needless to say I was sleeping like bear hibernating.

I stole money from my mom’s purse so that I could buy rocks from my little sister’s rock selling store. I feel it was a terrible investment.

There is this place under my ear, close to my jaw line, that I loved to be kissed on.

In high school, I received a marriage certificate. My husband, Ewan McGregor. My mother’s response: Great Scot! He sure was, wasn’t he.

When my V-card got swiped, I cried like a baby.

The smell of curry makes: my skin shrivel up like a prune, my nose burn, my stomach churn and makes me want to vomit. I would rather eat worms then be near the terrible smell. (For those of you who don’t know, my first experience with Indian food, left me hugging porcelain for three days.)