Posts Tagged ‘asthma


2012 YEAR OF THE DRAGON: time to breath some FIRE

Today marks the 3rd month that I have stopped inhaling marijuana

HAPPY NEW YEAR!  I am starting off the year in Los Angeles reflecting on the differences between this year and last year.  Last year I started out with a big wad of sugar daddy cash on my person because Christmas in the Bay Area had blessed me with an amazingingly generous client that allowed me to get my solo theatre show “Modern Day Asian Sex Slavery” off the ground and have a cabaret with a full jazz band and sexy sex worker burlesque performers…Those are the two big accomplishments of 2011 that I wrote in my list of things that I was proud of having accomplished that year.

The OTHER big one is more recent and carries a different weight for me.  3 months ago I attempted to go on a weed cleanse because I was sick with a cold and had stopped vaporizing for a few days because when I am sick, I don’t really feel like being high because my head is already light, so I took advantage of the 3 day streak I had already started and tried to push myself to continue it for as long as I could.  I vowed that I would go easy on myself if it was a decision to medicate or have a major mental breakdown, I would medicate.  I believe in 3 months I may have vaporized about 3 times only.  but I EAT edibles on the weekends to get high and have fun dancing and enjoying my life as opposed to using weed to just get through each day.

Previously for me, marijuana was the anti-depressant that I felt was the very thread of my survival.  It was painful for me to think of not having it in my system and there were many many times when I would be driving to the dispensaries in LA with tears in my eyes.  I’d sit down with my grinder and vaporizer tube and count backwards 5-4-3-2-1 and then after 2 inhales I would be relieved of my pain, my tears would dry and I would feel better.  Medicated.  Positive thoughts again.  In July of 2011 it was getting really bad for me, the weed was not really working that well.  I was ready to get on psych meds, the intake staff person told me he had an art gallery so I sent him some of my artwork (which is sexually charged) from my phone giving him my number as well and he started pursuing me in hopes of trying to PIMP me.  (he told me he had experience in that game and then ended with a “I’m kidding” when he noticed I reacted negatively). No lie.  My path is full of vultures, I constantly have to breath fire in their face and make them back down.  Thank God for the ability Sprint has to block numbers from calling and texting you.  During the time he was trying to contact me a lot, he had just gotten fired from that place and just got out of  jail for a getting in a fight he casually told me in our 1-2 ever conversations which always ended with a “sweetie” at the end of them.  Remember, pimps can live anywhere, be of any race, age or gender but most noticeably seek you out when you are at your most vulnerable with offers of help and resources.

That center did a half assed intake and never called me again even though they charged me $20.  I wanted my money back!  Apparently, although they didn’t inform me in any way, I guess I wasn’t insane enough to need their help.  I was disenchanted to say the least.  I decided I would try St.Johns Wort and it worked a miracle on me.  A true saint indeed.  As an uninsured American, herbal remedies are the KEY to my survival.  I use St.Johns Wort (SJW) in combination with Passionflower (for anxiety) to ease my pains and it helps me get through each day without marijuana.  I wanted to prepare my body for the baby that I wanted to have in the next 5 years and although I do know mothers who have used weed to term and bore healthy babies I thought it would be better if I cut down.  I NEVER thought I was going to be able to.  My weed use as decreased by 75% with the help of my other herbs and I haven’t had a medical card since August which means I haven’t been able to enter any medical marijuana clubs since then either.  My vaporizer is shelved, my bongs are dusty, my grinders are put away.  I am a marijuana supporter and sympathizer forever but I’m no longer a stoner.  There are no actual weed flowers in the house!  That, to me is amazing.  For me to go 5 straight days without medicating with weed is no less than a miracle.  Its been 3 months and I am still amazed every day.  In previous years when I’d done cleansing experiments, I’d used passionflower to be clean during the day, but then I’d eat an edible every night.  I’d try to make rules saying I would only smoke when the sun was down, but I’d be anxiously awaiting the sunset.  But I wasn’t using SJW yet.   St.Johns Wort helps with mood elevation and depression.  It helps me balance my brain chemistry.  I have been resistant to daily anything in my past.  You couldn’t get me to take vitamins, supplements, birth control pills daily nothing.  I’d forget, I’d skip, I’d stop.  But I take my herbs with my coffee every single day now just like I used to sit there all day in front of my home office computer with my vape tube in my mouth every hour because IT WORKS. and it works well. Some herbal remedies don’t always work on me.  People swear by 5HTP but I tried that and it didn’t do the trick like what I have now.   For me personally, I wanted to go back to a time when marijuana was recreational over the time when weed was something i would fear being without for too long.

Sometimes I still have anxiety and hard times but I’m able to push through them without weed now.  I am stronger.  I made myself stronger and I am proud of myself.  I’m not sober, I’m not clean, I’m just a new version of the same old me.  To not have the kind of depression problems that I have been plagued with for years is such a relief.  If you have never been there, you probably don’t know how dark the darkness feels even in the light.  I would be at the beach trying to lift my mood but I’d still feel hopeless, negative, worried about the future, hearing voices of defeat and the worst lonliness, even when I was trying to fix my situation by try to go out and dance (alone and go home alone w/o conversing with another person), watch a movie (alone) or go eat (alone) or to martial arts or yoga classes.  I would make a log of the time when I’d just sit in the car in the parking lot and feel that there wasn’t anyone in LA who was lonlier than me at that moment.  It is still an ongoing battle for me.   but I am happy to have this under more control.  I just got high yesterday, because, hey it was FRIDAY!!  i started to have inspirations about ideas for new paintings and decided to start painting again.  I was going off on idea after ideas and facebooking manically with joy.  That’s what weed does to me.  The ideas are real.  The ideas are still good.  Its just that now that is not me everyday, the amount of ideas that I spew out are more manageable and realizable.  If I was feeling like that on a daily basis, I noticed I would get frustrated at how I knew I was never going to follow through on these ideas because it would be impossible to manage them all well.  Idea diarrhea got annoying at meetings as well.  I’d be like hating my own interruptions and blurting outs. Fuck I shouldn’t have said that.  o well i just said it.  i wanted to be in total control of my thoughts and actions again.  Before I met my first majorly unhealthy partner at 22 I smoked occasionally and didn’t even own a bong of my own!  But after we broke up was the beginning of my new found lifestyle which I was totally content with and loved.  I will never renounce it.  I’m just happy that I am able to overcome certain difficulties in different ways and the major suffering has eased.  And I don’t rule out that I may go back to those ways, but probably not.  I went from bong to vaporizer for almost 2 years, then SJI/Passionflower and edibles on the weekends.  Weed/drug use is kind of like sex work for me.  I’m not concerned about knowing when it will end, I can’t know that.  I will stop doing what I am doing now when I am no longer doing it.  Period.  I STILL have no regrets about ending friendships to people like Kristina Wong (who tried to shame me into quitting) or my ex roommates at the Basswerks (who ran an intervention on me as a condition to staying in the) house I lived at in LA who made me feel like shit for needing to medicate with marijuana.

I’ve been trying to cut down for years but I couldn’t.  I would not compromise my survival because I knew what I needed to be well.  If I don’t have my herbs I will also start freaking out in the same way I did when I was out of weed because I can feel when I am not medicated.  I am now just medicating with something else.  I am also super relieved that I did not have to get on any expensive and long term destructive pharmaceutical anti-depressants.  I love herbal remedies as well because it fits my budget.  If you are trying to ween yourself off of any substance: TRY PASSIONFLOWER.  It takes the edge and craving off of life and it works.  I swear by it.  I swear by both these herbs just like I used to swear my life on my indica weed.  I was in San Francisco for December 17th “International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers” and Robyn Few, the founder of SWOP was there.  She gathered a circle of known potheads to share in her homegrown joints as usual and I did not partake!  It was the first time in the history of my sex worker activism that I didn’t smoke weed with Robyn Few when she offered.  Robyn’s love and her shameless weed smoking was the reasons that I joined the sex worker rights movement in the first place.  I had finally found my family I thought.  A bunch of loving prostitute stoner women hanging out in a room?  Wut? I’m IN!!!  It was a beautiful thing.  Robyn is still battling cancer with 2 joints in her hand, and I am still battling my demons too but we are both STILL ALIVE and kicking and smiling and looking hot.  SURVIVORS.  I asked her if she would ever stop smoking weed and she replied defiantly,”NEVER.”

This year music and art are my big goals.  I am going to Japan finally for an extended stay THIS YEAR for sure.  6 months to a year.  I’ve decided to leave South Central LA.  Sell my stuff.  go to Japan and make my own cultural journey without my mom’s help.  It is my lunar year.  The year of the dragon. This has got to be big. I will accept nothing less. I stopped going to weekly therapy at the start of 2012 and decided to direct that $25 into paying my pianist and start rehearsing with him on the regular again. time to get this music train BACK on the track with NO excuses.  Music is therapy anyway.  Singing sets me free and gives me immeasurable joy.  I need to do it like my other art forms.  Including my martial arts.  I had done my cabaret in January and then totally abandoned working on live music.  It got reprioritized, like my painting did. I come back to things.  but I don’t always know when.  I just had no desire to paint after I sold the last painting for $1600 and after David Perry died.  he was my painting partner.  my inspiration actually.  he was an awesome painter and the best friend I ever had.  I still miss him.  I make a mantel for his stuff in every house I live in and I told him I was going to paint again.  I said it to the mantel.  I told it to his face which was painted in his paintings.  Wendy Babcock is with him now.  I put her photo on his mantle.  I’m sure he’ll enjoy the company.

I’m already doing an exciting group show at the Aljira Gallery in Newark, NJ near Manhattan NYC and it feels like I’m going to start going somewhere again higher than where I am at now.  The curator is trying to get the show to travel to Boston as well.   There is another show at The Museum of Sex in the nearby NYC area at the the SAME TIME as the one that I am already in that is asking for a call for submissions.   I would simply have an art orgasm if I could actually have two major NYC shows at the same time!  Even just having the one show is amazing.  I am thinking that I am glad that I quit teaching and started focusing on my art and music again.  It is what I was meant to be.  not a teacher.  not a non profity worker.  Mariko Passion.  exactly who I am now.  I want to be singing in a club or restaurant with my pianist this year too.  But this always seems to be a goal.  It’s really nice ot have the visual art thing come back though.  trying to sell my shit in the back of bars and clubs in LA wasn’t going well.

I have decided to start painting again because I have been hit with inspiration for WHAT I would paint.  I haven’t painted for almost 10 years, I gave all my brushes and paints to my sister and quit until…perhaps now.  I’ve done  a  few small projects here and there but nothing has inspired me to start seriously painting the way I used to until yesterday when I get high I had these great ideas that I knew that I would actually follow through on.  These are NOT hallucinations.  It is just easier to produce my great creative ideas when I am not hearing voices from my family’s rejection telling me that I am a fat, can’t sing, too sensitive, wasting my life, not interesting, always broke.  When I am high I am nothing but positive almost always.  and more than that I am a creative genuis!!! At times like last night I wonder why I need to cut down in the first place.  It started with wanting to stop smoking because asthma but I still have asthma even though I don’t smoke or vaporize but its way more in control than last year.  I am always thankful and grateful when the pain is relieved.  I learned how to manage my asthma with plant medicines too.  Lobelia tinctures with water taste like shit but stop the wheezing.  Much better than paying big pharma $200 for an inhaler that lasts a month.  I learned how to use an alternative because I HAD to.  I like it that way actually and am really proud of the many many natural remedies that I have to cure asthma, yeast infections, bladder infections, depression and anxiety!  fuck yea!  I’m an amazing broke girl!  Really.  FUCK BIG PHARMA.

It’s the weekend, I’m high and practicing new songs to sing.  I’m bursting with creative flow and ideas and working on a proposal for the Museum of Sex due in 5 days.  Getting the New Jersey show was the first step.  The Museum of Sex is the 2nd.  The snow storm will follow.  I feel good.  I feel great.  Gonna have the whole world on a plate.


Fear and Loathing in Palm Springs

APRIL 1, 2011

At first it was all pink when I closed my eyes, psychedelic pink and red shapes dancing and morphing to the bass thumping of pop music…it was going to be okay I thought…I used that to take my mind off the nausea in my stomach, the inflammation and feeling of swelling in my chest as I lay in the 104 degree desert sun in a lawn chair by the pool at the free party on Friday of Dinah Shore’s annual big girl party…

This is a lesbian event. I can sit here looking damn good in a bikini all day and be assured that not a single female would approach me, even if I wasn’t sick and feeling like I was going to die…it’s just not the way mainstream queer girls operate. They rarely step to you, especially if you don’t make eye contact. A man on the other hand will step to a woman in a bikini even if she is passed out and lying in her own vomit and urine, without a doubt.

Dinah is not really a drug friendly environment. Gay girls don’t do drugs the way the gay boys do. This is a drinkers hey day full of a wide spectrum of different BLTQ girls from alll over the country celebrating their love for each other and celebrating with mostly overpriced drinks in plastic cups. I’ve had a similar experience happen at Burningman, stumbled into a strangers camp and was given plenty of water, love, compassion, an RV to rest in, support and safety. Dinah was no Burningman, even if it was just as hot there.

I sat up because I had difficulty breathing. It was hot out here but I was cold. I felt both of my hands and they were cold. I moved the fingers around and circulated the blood vigorously. Was this a real emergency or the drugs I was on? i was pretty sure I knew what cold hands felt like, and I was confident I was experiencing asthma sickness and allergies from the house of 5 dogs that we slept at the night before. My inhalers weren’t working that well anymore. I had to pace them out. Even as I puffed twice on one, the tightness in my chest didn’t go away very much. I was having an asthma attack on mushrooms by the pool at a club event. Weeeeeeeeeeee

At one point I put myself into the swimming pool and got wet. i held on to the ledge and played with the water. I COULD NOT AND DID NOT WANT TO TALK TO ANYONE THERE. They would never understand.
I was feeling sick to my stomach like I was going to throw up. Shrooms. How awful would it be to be the bitch who throws up in the pool at the party and has to be rushed out to the hospital? Was that going to be me today? I got out of the pool and went to the bathroom. The wet floor was covered in dirt and puddles that were moving and flowing, breathing better than i was at the moment. I didn’t feel comfortable taking up the stall which always had a line and yaking my gutts out. I just didn’t. The drugs had made me so full of anxiety over every move I made that I could only manage to urinate. At least I didn’t just pee on myself. When I throw up I pee on myself. It’s a muscle spasm thing. I held it together enough to not do either. Very good.

“Hey Mariko!” said one acquaintance whom I knew from an event we did together recently in LA. “Do you remember me?” she said
“no, I’m sorry..” I said eyes welling up with tears wanting her to take some action to help me help myself…
“How are you doing?” she said.
“Not good at all….” I said exposing my eyes behind my sunglasses and showing her that I was crying now. “I took too many mushrooms and I have really severe asthma. I feel like I am going to die and I don’t know if this is a real emergency enough to call 911. I mean, I think that I am ok, but I”m not sure…”
she kept smiling at me but I could tell she had no idea what to say or do.
“Look, just do me a favor and keep looking over here and see if I am alive or not will you?” I said and flopped down back to laying on my side in the recliner. I think she walked off then, I’m not sure…

I was having asthma problems all night. It was NOT just the shrooms.. The A/C in this chic’s house wasn’t on and the stillness of the air is a slow death to the asthmatic. FIVE DOGS. no air circulation. sleeping on the allergen filled couch. I was trying to sleep, trying not to disturb, waking up frequently to use my inhalers, to suck on cough drops to avoid coughing and waking people in the house…miserable. Even before I took any drugs, I was having trouble breathing. Something had happened to swell my respiratory tract from sleeping at that house and I couldn’t breathe that well even as we left to drive to the party and shop and socialize at the coffee shop and liquor store.

Its the first of the month and you haven’t paid your rent. Why are you trying to go to Dinah Shore anyway?
Well the plan was to place ads in Palm Springs and make some money to party in Palm Springs to get my mind off of some of the recent trauma and finnancial set backs being an indy escort has caused. It seemed like a good plan. It had always worked for me before. Throw up some ads and even if I only make $200 that would be enough to float me for the weekend til I got home. But things in LA had not been so great either. 10-14 days would go by with only $1-300 income which was not enough to pay my basic living expenses and run my escort business. Near two weeks with barely any customers will injure most business models.

I had visions of getting a Prednisone shot and being hooked up to a respirator and how much better I would feel…
I laid down on my side in my pool chair, crying my eyes out behind my sunglasses for hours, just hoping time would pass and no one would bother me. I would be less high and more functional and I would be able to just deal with the real problems of my sickness and my real problem of paying my rent.

A cute girl is useless to me if I can’t fucking breathe and I’m about to be homeless. I closed my eyes because opening them at times was too scary. I’d try to relax and focus on a hot chic but then after 5 seconds I would feel nauseous again and want to throw up so I kept them closed…

My poverty and sickness.
I was alone at this party because it was the free pool party and the other pool party cost $40. I was trying to save money. This party WAS just as good as the other one anyway.
Your friends are not really your friends. You have no real friends.
An emergency room visit is probably going to cost you $2000 and then you will really not be able to pay your rent. You won’t die but you’ll get evicted.

I didn’t want to get up because i was afraid that I would look and be too messy and just fall on the floor, security would call the ambulance and that would be an extra expense that I couldn’t afford. this was a true American anxiety of the uninsured. What if I was Canadian or Australian? Would I be having these life or death or bills arguments with myself.

Get it together. Get it together. You can make it. Is this a real emergency? Do you really need help? Do you? Does anyone even know how much pain you are in? How lonely you feel every day? does anyone care?

I have never in my life felt that I was having an asthma scare like this before. I’ve NEVER been hospitalized for an asthma attack, and only until recently in the last 8 months had I felt like it had gotten so out of control that I had to see a specialist and get on steroid inhalers. I started using inhalers 2x daily and another emergency one at least once or twice a day. This was all new to me. I had inhalers and asthma as a kid but I never used them. I just suffered through it instead of take my meds. It didn’t bother me that much, except when I ran. I used to use it as an excuse to get out of PE in elementary school, but I stopped doing that in junior high school because running became suddenly fun and I realized I was actually capable.

Before 8 months ago, the only medicine I inhaled everyday was marijuana. Since December I have almost completely abandoned or turned down any smoking devices (bong, blunt, pipe, joint) because of my asthma. I even stopped smoking and only eating a small cookie once a day to cut down on my cannabis intake and bong smoking hoping it would cure my asthma somehow and the wheezing and coughing would magically go away. it didn’t. Cannabis use is not the problem. Asthma is a chronic illness, a disease they call it. Great. Another “disease” i have. As always getting back on my regular dose of cannabis after discovering that cutting down would not have an effect on my asthma was a huge relief for my depression. Vaporizing and eating my cannabis and my asthma inhalers are essential to my survival. Both keep me alive and help me to breathe. So you don’t think I need weed. or you think I am a drug addict. I need to go to MA and apologize to all those that I have hurt with my marijuana use. LMFAO. What about those that have hurt me and drive me to self injurous tendencies that make me want to medicate? You want to criticize the addicted but you are not willing to take them in YOUR arms and tell them it will be okay. I’M NOT WILLING TO DO THAT TO MOST ADDICTS myself!

I do not see myself as a drug addict. I am a cannabis patient, and a drug USER. A recreational binge user sometimes, but a casual recreational user (I even call it professional user, even reflecting on this incident in retrospect). I’m addicted to Halls cough drops because of my asthma. Inhalers make your throat sore and your mouth dry, so if I don’t have them a coughing spell will exacperate a more sever attack in minutes. cough drops and steroid inhalers are not stigmatized drugs however, even if you use them and need to use them every single day.

Finally, I stumbled into the hotel room nearby of one of the girls from our crew still crying. M answered the door. We hugged quickly. I gave her the same batch of shrooms. She was also having a bad time, but not as bad as me. She explained to me that the person who owned the hotel room was anti-drug use and OCD about her space. I was crying on the phone as I paid the taxi driver. “It HAS TO BE OKAY.” I said,”I am REALLY AND TRULY SICK and on the verge of going to the emergency room. How can someone not understand that??” I cried. Even the taxi driver looked empathetic.

M answered the door, looking dazed. “How long does this last?” she asked me.
“uh, about 5 hours max.” I said. “I’m scared.” I said entering the dark, quiet and peaceful room, such a different space from where I just was. I went to the shower and turned on the hot water and closed the door. Steam relieves asthma attacks. A little.
KNOCK KNOCK on the bathroom door after only 7 minutes.
“they’re about to come back to their room,”M said,”and we gotta leave back to D’s house. the house of 5 dogs. I could not go back there. EVER. The thought alone made my chest tighten up. The dog owner would never check on you or feel any responsibility for your pain. NO ONE CARES AND NO ONE OWES YOU ANYTHING. She was never really your friend anyway. She only tolerated you because of M. I offer her no social capital, even with my 602 virtual acquaintances.

M brought my car and my stuff from D’s house of 5 dogs to the hotel that I rested in until about 11pm. She told me that I couldn’t stay in the room, and since I hadn’t made any money I couldn’t afford to get a room though I needed to rest very very badly. she gave me $35 for picking her up at the Ontario airport which would be enough to get me fueled back to Los Angeles, where my queen comfortable bed could potentially await me in 2 hours. I crushed up a couple of lines of cocaine and powered myself up to make the journey. If any of these people made me feel unloved, rejected or alone, i didn’t feel it as I drove home. If the whole day of pending emergency was emotionally and physically exhausting, I no longer felt that either. Sasha Gray’s Scion’s cold A/C cooled my swollen lungs and I drove into the darkness 2hours West back where I came from…

Cocaine is an emotional anasthetic. Rejection? What rejection? It’s also like espresso for me when I need a jumpstart to drive a long journey, to work another 2 hours, to drive back to the Valley from LA after coming back from a no show 2 hours before. I probably have Coke on my menu these days directly under the line item with my Starbuck Grande Soy Lattes (except it is part of my tips, I have NEVER bought it). I might use it 4 or 5 times a month. Less now that I am no longer an all night graveyard shift agency girl. Coke and escorting to me go together like condoms and penises…normal. necessary.

Maryjane is my real friend. She is there for me when no one else is, and that’s usually most of the time. Maryjane holds me when I cry, even makes me stop crying, it’s like she listens and understands in ways that my family, the people I date and society do not…She makes being alone all the time totally fine. even entertaining and creative. I LOVE HER. Awww. And She LOVES YOU TOO. Irie is Love. It is a natural anti-depressant, anti-anxiety med. it helps me through PTSD moments, it helps me now mentally deal with the pain of my asthma…

“What does it feel like to sit with the pain?” my therapist asks.

Before it used to just feel like a pain in my chest that would be relieved by inhaling Maryjanes kisses at the local dispensary, but recently in the last year, since my asthma has become more severe the dog that was sitting on my chest has morphed into an elephant literally making it impossible physically to breathe.

i bought a vaporizer and have been using it for 4 months now. Smoking out of my bong is something I do sparingly and only now because the glass part of my vape BROKE and few places sell spare vaporizer parts, and as I said before I am broke and in survival mode. I go to my local dispensary to use their vaporizers and socialize like a coffee shop in Amsterdam. Superficial conversations usually. It forces me to get out of the house and talk to real people not online. I have 602 acquaintances on Facebook. They probably have not even missed my status updates…maybe it’s all the better for them.

You trigger everyone you talk to anyway. No one wants to hang out with a hot mess.



didn’t have to stun gun the attacker away,

i asked for a cancellation fee and there wasn’t shit that he had to say…

Just Kidding.  My good day today had NOTHING really to do with sex work directly because I wasn’t working at all.  I spent the WHOLE DAY IN SELF CARE AND IT WAS WONDERFUL.  I am the QUEEN of self care.  I know how to love me.  Why?  Because I have lived a lifetime lacking LOVE from others.  I have mostly been single, and I am the youngest black sheep child in a pretty normal Asian American family.  (Lonely, no touching or I Love yous)  This is NOT crying victim.  This is accepting and taking pride in survival.

I had VICIOUS cramps the night before and bled through my sweat pants twice in one night.  I am trying out my new Diva Cup which is not disposable like the Instead cup and you can’t have sex on it but it is more ECO FRIENDLY because you wash it and reuse it.  When I woke up I thought there would be a dead fetus on my bed beside me it was so intense.  I had ripped open one of those camping heat warmers and placed it directly on my womb and finally I was able to sleep.  Immediately I dreamt of having a baby and I saw my potential future baby daddies, my gay male bff from elementary school and his new love of his life.  They were both holding a hand of mine while I screamed in the worst pain that I had EVER EVER EVER EXPERIENCED.  The room was filled with orange light which helped to calm me from the excruciating pain that I was feeling in my abdomen.  But somehow I was achieving sleep comforted by remnants of dreams of the love and friendship I had felt from so many people in the SF Bay over the holiday vacation.

On Christmas I had spent my quality time with my mother for the obligatory few hours that we could have in common.  She retreated to her room to read her bible, so I jumped on backpage to place escort ads on Christmas Day sort of out of shits and giggles as if anyone was going to really be worthy as a client on Christmas.  I was inPhoenix, Arizona on Thanksgiving doing the same thing and it didn’t amount to anything.  Why would Christmas be any different.  It turned out this client was going to be me hitting “paydirt” my Christmas present.  4 days ago I was barely able to leave Southern California and I had resorted to painting my entire family of 10 small canvas paintings because 10 canvas boards were on sale at Michaels for $20 and I was going to be too broke to BUY these kids who had parents that could and probably would buy them whatever toy or material thing that they wanted.  I was painting small portraits for the kids waiting for the phone to ring with my last client who would give JUST enough cash to pay for gas and a couple days in town before i’d have to go fishing again.  I’d resorted to beg/texting some regulars or white list guys who were of course also broke and couldn’t help.   Funny that my client calls ME his ‘paydirt” but er, i’m going to have to beg to differ.  If 350,000 a year is a bad year then my lifetime goal is a piece of shit in Skid Row. (human shit, you know the kind that you squint at piled near the side of a building going, that’s human shit, no toilet paper just skid marks.  real ones).

It’s funny that money really really has so much to do with my well being and sanity.  I’d like to get out of this pattern, and it really doesn’t JUST depend on money, but money really DOES GET THE BALL ROLLING and it really does CREATE A BARRIER SO YOU CANNOT TRAVEL AS FAST AS YOU’D LIKE TO.

Today I FINALLY made a Western Medicine Asthma doctor’s appointment with the money I made from my Christmas Sugar Daddy Client.  I told the receptionist I didn’t have insurance and that I was paying cash, and low and behold there was a 50% cash discount!  Amazing.  My appointment, prescriptions, treatment and all KINDS OF FREE SAMPLES including inhalers and a neti pot totalled $375 + $16 for parking so about $400.

I felt and breathed better instantly and it was like I WAS on one of those MIRACLES OF CHRIST shows where I am crippled and start walking again.  Well, it’s the prednisone shot, which I used to get when I would have eczema flare ups in college.  The problem with the prednisone is it is like COCAINE.  It reduced inflammation and makes everything that ails you better (I mean everything asthma, eczema, nasal congestion and swelling just immediately HEALS).  BUT THEN IT RETURNS and you go back to where you were but not as bad.  So the cure is sort of like a false sense of hope and it ultimately frustrated me.  I’m still only breathing in the machine at 48% the capacity of a non asthmatic after one day of treatment.  But I’m sure it will only get better.  My asthma has not been this bad in ten years.  I never really needed an inhaler.  I managed to survive throughout childhood without one.  I tried but it was wasted on me.  I found out today that they each cost $200!  The doctor gave me two one month inhalers which I’ll probably end up using for 6 months.

I forgot that DOCTORS AND TEACHERS are the ultimate philanthropists.  I am SO FUCKING BITTER.  I forgot that there are givers like me, whose life calling and destiny it is to help others feel LESS PAIN IN LIFE.  And they do this unconditionally easily if they can and at the expense of themselves sometimes if no one stops them.

I need to stop the bitterness.  Maybe all the goodness that happened today was just a constant reminder of that.

So I make my appointment for the asthma doctor with a big smile because I learn that it is only going to be around $375 which is totally affordable to me and worth it as I have been coughing for 2.5 months and am sounding really really sick to a lot people around me. I tried to quit SMOKING the bong,pipe, joints or anything that burned and cut down my cannabis use by 2/3s  for exactly that amount of time and there was very little improvement.  In fact, the asthma ATTACK part is less severe when I smoke marijuana more frequently.  the way that I cough is less severe to the lungs.  I don’t feel like I am going to suffocate at the peak of the cough and I don’t get woken up at 6am coughing until 10am, which then makes me sometimes need to sleep til 1 or 2pm.  I read that cannabis subdues a part of the brain that makes you cough like that.  This is why they say smoking weed can be good for asthmatics.

I step out into 62 degree sunny Los Angeles (after battling the cold and A COLD in San Francisco’ and Renos freezing winter) and someone had found my prescription sunglasses that I had misplaced ($350) and left them on my front stoop!  I was soo excited because I had also misplaced my regular glasses at this Christmas client’s house and we coud not find them anywhere either.  So I was out of all sources of glasses for the entire week, leaving me dependent on my contacts which I really should limit to wearing 12 hours a day for optimum health and comfort.  Yay!  I wouldn’t have to spend money replacing my favorite prescription sunglasses.  Thank you Good people of South Central LA for returning my glasses.  maybe my neighbor or the weekly gardner, who are good people essentially.

Next was my drs appointment which just went great.  I felt better after being hooked up to various machines and I inhaled steroids and they shot it in my butt cheek and the drugs did their Western medicine magic.  I knew they would I just didn’t have the money to afford it and I knew it wouldn’t be like a $60 acupuncture treatment that I hoped would solve it.  Or a $28 bottle of asthma pills at Whole Foods.

I ate a delicious vegan ‘chicken run ranch’ burger at my favorite college hangout Native Foods.  I love to eat.  Love to reward myself with food seratonin.  It was getting late and I wasn’t going to get to see my favorite mechanic who had recently saved my engine.  The check engine lite was on for some reason and it wasn’t lack of oil.  I’d been driving a lot.  From LA to Arizona to Vegas to SF to REno to LA. Phew.  I love my Sasha Gray and she loves me.  2 new used tires recently.  tomorrow we will wash her finally and take her to see why the engine light is on.

So the Plan B was Olympic Day Spa, my favorite womens only Korean soak massage ritual.  I am a bath goddesss.  Its part of the Japanese and Korean culture VERY strongly and not so much in the other ASian cutlures that I know of but still present.  (When i was in Taiwan and China, Vietnam, Thailand it was hard to find bathhouses).  I spent 2 hours soaking and splashing around.  I got a 30 minute massage which i REALLY needed because I had actually THROWN OUT MY BACK COUGHING SO HARD on New Years Eve.  I felt the vertebrae go up and down and walking all day the next day was a challenge.  Add in all the drugs I did that week and you have yourself a wrecked hot mess. When I came home New Years Day I could barely move around Allyn’s tiny apartment. This was alllll about healing that mess.  I met and have gotten along great with his new Vietnamese nail salon boyfriend and the three of us slept together them cuddling me too but allowing them their romantic space.  We were 3 pigs in a blanket, a queen bed with a mattress foam pad that felt like heaven to my back after trying to party like I was 22 at the age of 34.  When i come down from ecstasy, cuddling is such a part of the essential healing that i need and love.  I think doing lots of e with my then best friends is what was so important to being a healed adult while I lived in San Francisco becoming an activist, a survivor, a sex worker…I exchanged love and healing that I needed so badly and we became so close as a result.  I fell in LOVE with my best female friend because I thought, in the same way that escort clients think you love them, that this was real girlfriend for life potential. with Allyn and his boyfriend I am trying hard to see a family in our future because it is time for me to start thinking that way.  I have to just jump and go.  Or else I will be 40 and the chances of me doing this right are going to get slimmer.  Especially since i want to keep using cannabis while pregnant.  The 2/3 cut down experiment was part of that transition.  I’ve regressed since, but I understand that limitation of use is possible with Passionflower pills as an anxiety substitute.  I’m not going to beat myself up, i’m just going to try to think about how to bring a child into the world as a pot smoking, bisexual, polyamorous, jet setting, artist sex worker activist.

I was so happy to be exhaling in bliss my wheezing was not as present finally this time.  I tried to use the spa treatment as the ONLY medicine a month ago.  Trying to spend extra time in the hot and wet saunas as an alternative.  But if the doctor gave me as much PREDNISONE as she did it was already in a state of URGENCY that I didn’t realize.  I walked out of the doctors office with all my “free gifts” smiling and happy happy happy that I was able to breath so much better than when I came in AND that paying her the $375 check was nothing to me at the moment of my recent CASHOLA from Christmas.

I got my prescritions filled at a drugs store across from the One HOur Eyeglass place because I was going to need new glasses ASAP because I didn’t think i was going to find my lost ones.  My mom gave me a spare jacket on christmas before I left her house and I found them in the pocket of THAT JACKET!  I must have forgotten that I was wearing them, because Christmas client and I started out our date drinking champagne and I totally forgot that I had that jacket on during that night.  I don’t usually do that many over night dates in a row.  It throws off my sense of time and space completely because I am really a home baser.  In the parking lot across the street from the eye glass place I find my glasses so I just saved myself $200 and 2 hours trying to get replacement prescription glasses!!  What are the chance of finding your presrption sunglasses and glasses in the SAME DAY!!!?

AFter the spa, I asked one of my artist friends Saria Idania to meet for dinner so I could pick her brain about ideas on how to create a successfull one woman show.  I had just decided to really try to kickstart my own one woman show writing this year and by going to Saria’s show I would be pressured and inspired enough to go home and write my own in time for my February booked gig at Long Beach State.  I had no idea that she would offer to be the DIRECTOR of the show!! I was sooo happy because the process of looking for a director when I have never BEFORE HAD A DIRECTOR was a very very daunting process INDEED.  We talked for hours and hours about ideas and activities and she gave me homework and I was so excited about life and art and motivation was surging through my veins….It is the essence of being an artist, this feeling.  We already have a rehearsal schedule and a budget, and again paying her a reasonable fee for her time is now a doable prospect because of my recent client.  Hallelujiah, perhaps the decision to attend her one woman show by myself on a Friday night that I had to work later was the greatest thing that I could have done in 2010.

And now I lay me down at 4am…

There are good and great people.

that LOVE ME.

I did a gig in LA and FOUR of my friends showed up!  That’s a lot if you perform a lot.  I was ELATED.  I had just returned from SF and spent lots of time with my great friends, one of them a friend I had known SINCE KINDERGARTEN that I had never partied or done drugs with ever before.  He thought the people at the End Up were “interesting” and he is trying to get me to take him to Burningman for the FIRST TIME.  I haven’t gone in 6 years and i have gone to 5 total.   One woman a sex worker activist from Thailand that I hadn’t seen in 6 years still sexy at 50 something telling me she’s going to come to LA and be a hoe with me!  I took Scarlot Harlot, my dear whore mother to get her first pedicure!  I met and bonded with many new boyfriends and girlfriends and even one that read this blog and decided as a result that she didn’t want to have anything to do with me.  Oh well.  Some people will never see my light.  It’s ok.  My gig last night was amazing.  The venue was beautiful.  I am enterting 2011 with hope, happiness, love, light, laughter, slow but sure health…xoxoxox year of the rabbit hop on hop on

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