i slept for 12 hours. i got something that's hailed as a wonder drug, good for nausea and insomnia and everything in between. since it's new to my system, my system says nom nom nom and makes me sleep. i'll get a few days of sleep with it before my system says, "hey wait a fucking minute, you're fooling me into sleeping, aren't you?" and will quit doing what the drug says it should do. until then, i get sleep, baby!
the butane insert (see http://www.amazon.com/Z-Plus-Butane-Torch-Insert-Lighters/dp/B000B7TH8I/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1354805599&sr=8-1&keywords=butane+zippo+insert ) for my Double Down Saloon zippo lighter. i won't tell him it's now half the price he paid. i thought he got it for his own zippo, as i collect them and don't use them much. but he got it for mine so i could finally use it again. since he couldn't afford the Sex Pistols zippo i wanted for xmas, he got me this. and it's fabulous.
after the suggestion of seaivy, who brought up what doc and i had been thinking about, i have decided to get a medical marijuana card. there are several dispenseries near me. two clinics are now taking new patients. the cost $800. and i would be free to set up a small grow, and give myself a hobby. i know some people who have grows and they are hard, this is not the easiest plant to cultivate. the cost is prohibitive, i guess that's the point. but it covers everything but the cannabis itself.
that puts off getting a dog. a $650 expense. but priorities. even my shrink has suggested a medical card. he wouldn't prescribe it to me, out of his own ethics, but he's seen me stoned and he's seen me sober. and he knows which me is easier to communicate with (the stoned). he suggested marinol, but that's not covered under my insurance and it would be cheaper to spark up a joint in a mall than buy the stuff uninsured. and it doesn't work all the time. i knew someone with AIDS that was on it, and one dose would help him, and the next four doses would do nothing. he couldn't rely on it so he stopped taking it and started smoking again.
i would cook with it. i've been collecting hemp recipes and i've baked with it before for a sick friend. this friend says my brownies and cookies are amazing. i think they're hempy tasting. i tried garlic bread with it, my audience loved it, i hated it. more garlic needed.
okay, enough cannabis talk. i've been keeping silent about it out of deference to some friends in the govt. but i don't care any more. i'm not a terrorist, and there is nothing wrong with cannabis. there is no need for me to be more ashamed of my pot habit than my abortion.
oh, wow, 13 minutes left on my dl of muppet xmas magic. i'll get to watch it before doc even gets up. that will put me in a great mood when he gets up. cool. i've been a cunt to him lately. he thought me packing up xmas stuff was to get at him, but i really don't need all that stuff. and i'll put lights up on the back porch after the holidays. no problem. i know where the box is.
simon is a traitorous cat. now that he's gotten to know doc, he sleeps with him. i've caught him in doc's room two mornings in a row now. that so and so cat. i take him in, i feed him, i love him, i put up with his breath, and he sleeps with doc. uh huh. meanwhile felix sleeps out here alone on the couch. so i told felix, and will show him, that he can sleep with me at night now. simon comes in when i go to bed for under the cover pets and fuzzles, then leaves. then it's safe for felix to come in and be my teddy bear.felix, who has been in my lap since i got up. snuggling up to the space heater, i know, i don't think it's me, i know it's the forced hot air blowing gently against his face that he's after. but i'll take the love.
i thought that getting really really stoned would help me deal with my writing enough to publish a book and finish editing one by now. i wanted it done by the end of the year. but i can't read my words. i can't even read them to record them. i feel like someone else wrote them. like i do when i'm listening to an Ani song. brilliant words i wish i'd written. i feel that same way when i read my writing. because i can't do that now. i'm thinking about taking up drinking. it worked for all the greats, until they drank themselves to death. i think they drank because they couldn't contend with their words.
i envy people like Matthew Wayne Selznick, who is still actively writing, he's even working on a sequel to one of his novels. we went to high school together, he taught me how to write poetry to let out my feelings. i used to write notes to him that went on for days. or Geoff Carter, who writes for Vegas Seven among other publications. we all went to school together, we all wanted to be writers, and they both are. i, on the other hand, can't seem to reread my poetry long enough to format it and put it in a book. grrr.
okay, my movie is ready. time for a fresh cuppa and some damn muppets. remember the rat.