It Ain’t Easy Being Indian – February 2024

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photo of ricey wild

By Ricey Wild

Boozhoo Cousins! Last month I choked on a small fistful of M&Ms. I thought that was IT for me but I have thus far survived the assassination attempt. THEY could not get me to shut up, but if I had Godiva chocolate/toffee truffle? I’m done. Seems like a fabulous way to go.

Centuries ago I was a Disco Kwe. I’m feeling more comfortable with sharing my very shredded life with so many things that I have in common with yooz. My thought is that yooz, all of ya have some funny, goofy, odd and traumatic events in yooz lives and I want to listen to you, and share my stories, too.

We Shinobs have so much to talk about. “Shinoberry” LOL! I just made a new word for the pretendians who claim indigenous Anishinabe DNA. I’m still disgusted by the “Insta-Indians” oozing out of putrid lies they propagated until per cap or “Indian Benefits”. Hah!
Am I bitter?! I consciously try to attain a Ducks Back but it is and will always be bile when I get out of my fugue and face the truths, which always depress me and then the cycle begins all over again. Hello anxiety. Ya, I’m still in therapy and talking to someone who has probably heard it all, is safe, and for me, refreshing.

I’m about to give unsolicited advice to Yooz, my beloved ones. We Indigenous family across the Milky Way have been violated by those who worship money. Make of this what you will. If anyone who has privilege thinks they are not racist, look again. My advice for my Indigenous relatives is to find a therapist you feel safe with, listened to, and like. I now feel free to be me.

My own journey to self-healing seems distant and difficult but I know I am going to do just that. I may go outside again without being hauled out on a gurney, who knows? Life is strange. It is tough!!!

Now that I brought it up, I made dental and optical appointments to assuage some of the physical aspects of becoming a better me, so to speak. I’m embarrassed now when I moan and groan about my back, that I’ve had two spinal surgeries and it was not the experience, it is the recovery time for me.

I just wanna dance again so…ya! I lost two inches a few years ago, from my tallest height of 5’6 to 5’4 is very crushing to moi, who has always wished she was taller, and now suffers from Osteoporosis and is shrinking as she writes. From now on the bread, peanut butter and honey will have to live on the kitchen counter.

Anyhoo, I have a dentist appointment this coming day. TBT – I’m rather nervous because I have always wanted to die with my own teeth (story another time).

I got my only pair of stretchy jeans on to exit the premises and a clean T-shirt (why do they call them pairs when the object is clearly one piece, like glasses) to wear in public. And I even have a brassiere to cuddle my kittens. It has been oddly warmish here in Rezberry, so no blizzardy storms as yet.

Makes me wonder because the last time Rezberry and surrounding areas had a drought and then a flood was in 2012. I have yet untold stories about that time. When I engage in conversation with any Nort’Lander I immediately go full southern Canadian – so I just nod my head and say, “Yah” while looking down at the ice and snow, wanting to say, “Well, g’wan den!” Surely their countries of origin accept them back in, ennit???

I hope to get new eyes soon, too. I do rant and rail against the woes of my life and then…?

I didn’t even pick up my celly and ask for an appointment. I have cataracts, not just cats. The optometrist (aka torture master) said I am a good patient for cataract surgery so here’s the info. I take responsibility for my choices.

Covid-19 hit about then and you know, and all of a sudden the USA is out of toilet paper and hand sanitizer. I was asked by the Rez dental office to take a picture of my tooth damage. Up until that request I did not know what an amazing contortionist I was despite being an old Mindimooye.