I don't know how many of you have experience with being on anti-psychotics (the broad term for all that Prozac, Zoloft, Paxil, Wellbutrin, etc family of drugs), but they are a whole barrel of fun.
(EDIT: thanks to naughtsauce for pointing out that anti-depressants != anti-psychotics. Every anti-dep I've been on has been of the SSRI class, which is different. Thanks, and yay for having smart friends!)
First, you start taking one. There's no telling if it will positively impact you until you've been on it for a few weeks or even months. If you then discover that either it doesn't do a damn thing for you, or worse, it makes everything even more horrible, then you get to go through the fun of easing off that medication so you can repeat the whole process with a new one (complete with new side effects!).
In college, My First Time was on Paxil. I had been mega-depressed for weeks and just didn't really know what to do about it. Finally I went to a trusted professor and said to her, so this stuff we're doing in class about Keats? His poem where he wants to die and such? Yeah, um, I TOTALLY GET IT. She marched me right over to the health center and volunteered herself to be my emergency contact and we both signed some sort of weird document saying I promised if I felt suicidal and was on the verge of Juliet-ing myself, I would call her instead.
The head of the counseling center there talked to me for all of 5 minutes before sending me to the campus doc for anti-depressants. The campus doc interrogated me about my weight -
Dr: "Do you have an eating disorder?"
Me: "No."
Dr: *suspicious peer* "No issues with food? (etc etc)"
Me: "None. I eat a lot, and all the time."
Dr: *puts on sympathetic face and Looks Me In The Eyes* "Now... I'm your doctor. You can trust me. You have to be honest with me."
Me: "Holy crap, ask my roommate if you want to! I just have a fast metabolism!"
Finally he prescribed Paxil - conveniently forgetting to mention to me that a common side effect is weight gain, and also that you cannot simply stop taking one of these meds cold turkey.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Friday, November 18, 2011
WeedGirl, Day Two Review
I promise this is not going to become a pot blog, but this is my shiny new thing in my life, so bear with me. I know before I hopped on this train, I was pretty damn curious about the whole thing myself, so I'm guessing I'm not the only one. Although I might be. IN THE WHOLE WORLD... all alone...
Oh, so, yeah. Pot. Last night I checked out another dispensary (or collective, whatever you want to call it). The guys there were nice enough, but not as bubbly and personable as the lady who helped me at my first one. They also had less selection than I'd seen on their website (www.fweedom.com if you're looking). On the upside, the guy who took me back did know his shit, and he was very accommodating of all my questions. Because I was new, he first went through all their products, explaining what they were, how they were used, the benefits, etc. Loads of great info, and I didn't have to stand there and ask question after question.
They had suckers (I picked up a few different flavors to try out), honey, candy bars, sprays, drops, teas, sodas (I got root beer), vitamin waters, and a couple of different kinds of cooking oils (canola and olive are the ones I can remember). I was tempted to get some of the oil, but they were a bit pricier. This place did take cards, but I'm a thrifty gal. Another neat thing about this collective is that they're doing a canned food drive - if you bring in a canned item to donate, you get 25% off your purchase. When it's over, all the food goes to a local food bank. I can definitely get behind that kind of community involvement!
The place itself was very tidy. The lounge area was bright and clean and had a comfy couch and lots of magazines to browse (you have to be escorted to the products area, so you have to wait for someone to be available). The actual merch area was pretty small, but they had quite a bit of stuff. He told me they're planning to start carrying vaporizers soon, too, and they had lots of pipes and other paraphernalia available.
My next stop is going to be another one that's in my neighborhood and has been around for quite a while. A friend of mine recommended it after reading my last post - I had no idea he was a card-carrying MMJ user! What's the proper term for that, anyway?
So, experiences so far: the people working at the dispensaries are great. Knowledgeable, friendly, approachable. I don't really have much history with pot to be able to compare prices or quality, but I feel like both are good. I'm learning to smoke in tinier puffs so I'm less likely to cough and hurt my throat. Last night I tried 2 bites of my indica cookie, and about 30 minutes later I could barely keep my eyes open. Perfect! I didn't stay asleep as long as I would've liked, but that may come with time. Part of what woke me was the extreme dry mouth I ended up with - any advice on how to preemptively combat that? I knew it was a possibility so I had a water bottle at the ready next to my bed, but I'd prefer to just not have to deal with it. Also, Hedgehog texted me at 230 AM, and I'm a dolt who always forgets to turn off her phone at night. *grumble*
Questions I'm coming up with: if I leave my pipe sitting on the counter overnight with weed in it, is that a bad thing? is my junk gonna get all dried up and icky? Does anyone know what one might have to go through to qualify as a baker for a collective? How can I avoid cotton mouth? Is it weird to join lots of different collectives, especially one right after the other, or is that considered normal for new patients, as we shop around for our favorite one?
Oh, so, yeah. Pot. Last night I checked out another dispensary (or collective, whatever you want to call it). The guys there were nice enough, but not as bubbly and personable as the lady who helped me at my first one. They also had less selection than I'd seen on their website (www.fweedom.com if you're looking). On the upside, the guy who took me back did know his shit, and he was very accommodating of all my questions. Because I was new, he first went through all their products, explaining what they were, how they were used, the benefits, etc. Loads of great info, and I didn't have to stand there and ask question after question.
They had suckers (I picked up a few different flavors to try out), honey, candy bars, sprays, drops, teas, sodas (I got root beer), vitamin waters, and a couple of different kinds of cooking oils (canola and olive are the ones I can remember). I was tempted to get some of the oil, but they were a bit pricier. This place did take cards, but I'm a thrifty gal. Another neat thing about this collective is that they're doing a canned food drive - if you bring in a canned item to donate, you get 25% off your purchase. When it's over, all the food goes to a local food bank. I can definitely get behind that kind of community involvement!
The place itself was very tidy. The lounge area was bright and clean and had a comfy couch and lots of magazines to browse (you have to be escorted to the products area, so you have to wait for someone to be available). The actual merch area was pretty small, but they had quite a bit of stuff. He told me they're planning to start carrying vaporizers soon, too, and they had lots of pipes and other paraphernalia available.
My next stop is going to be another one that's in my neighborhood and has been around for quite a while. A friend of mine recommended it after reading my last post - I had no idea he was a card-carrying MMJ user! What's the proper term for that, anyway?
So, experiences so far: the people working at the dispensaries are great. Knowledgeable, friendly, approachable. I don't really have much history with pot to be able to compare prices or quality, but I feel like both are good. I'm learning to smoke in tinier puffs so I'm less likely to cough and hurt my throat. Last night I tried 2 bites of my indica cookie, and about 30 minutes later I could barely keep my eyes open. Perfect! I didn't stay asleep as long as I would've liked, but that may come with time. Part of what woke me was the extreme dry mouth I ended up with - any advice on how to preemptively combat that? I knew it was a possibility so I had a water bottle at the ready next to my bed, but I'd prefer to just not have to deal with it. Also, Hedgehog texted me at 230 AM, and I'm a dolt who always forgets to turn off her phone at night. *grumble*
Questions I'm coming up with: if I leave my pipe sitting on the counter overnight with weed in it, is that a bad thing? is my junk gonna get all dried up and icky? Does anyone know what one might have to go through to qualify as a baker for a collective? How can I avoid cotton mouth? Is it weird to join lots of different collectives, especially one right after the other, or is that considered normal for new patients, as we shop around for our favorite one?
Thursday, November 17, 2011
It's Not A Crime, It's 420 Time
It's marginally more difficult to get a weed card/green card/MMJ Recommendation in Washington, but not by much. Now that I am a legal pot user, I figured I'd document a bit of my experiences here for those curious.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Snoozin Buddies
I have a confession: I am really bad in bed.
Sleeping, I mean. I don't sleep well, and that makes me a very poor bedmate.
First, it takes me a while to fall asleep. I toss and turn like... well, a thing that tosses and turns a lot. It takes me several tries to get a position that feels juuuuust right so I can actually get to sleep. I start on one side. I try a few arrangements with my arms, then with my legs. Sometimes I shift a bit onto my stomach, then I might shift back. Often I end up in some kind of weird jack-knife position, which is fine when I'm alone, but if you're in the spot next me on the bed, it can lead to a knee in the back. Generally unpleasant.Then I'll switch to the other side and repeat the whole process.
Once I'm done acting like a marionette made of jumping beans (hey, now there's a nice image for your nightmares! YOU'RE WELCOME!), it's still not fun to be under the covers with me. I'm tiny, and I'm always cold, but holy crap do I warm up when I sleep. I have been called a human space heater. My metabolism is just churning away while my brain frolics in dream land, so I'm generating a ton of warmth, and it has nowhere to go thanks to the blankets. I usually start the night all bundled to the gills, but I wake up with blankets, socks, and pajama pants all thrown asunder. With yet another body thrown into this furnace, it just gets to be too much and I can't sleep at all. I'm back to tossing, turning, flinging blankets about, and being an all-around bed nuisance.
Then we have more tossing. More turning. I think this is probably how I get most of my exercise, actually. I wake up about 549862 times a night, and almost every time, a position change is required, even if just a tiny one. If I don't move/change sides/flail about, my joints start hurting like a mofo, and that makes for a very unhappy me. I don't think I've punched anyone in the face yet, but I have kicked, headbutted, and kneed my poor sleeping partners.
Do I snore? I've been told that sometimes I do, but I've also been told these snores are "tiny and cute." Sometimes, though, I get all congested and my unconscious self decides the solution to not being able to breathe through my nose is to just breathe through my mouth. Logical. Except, there I am, on my side with my mouth open, and did you know that you don't swallow in your sleep? When I was about 6 or 7, I watched a friend taking a nap at our babysitter's house, because I wanted to accurately be able to feign sleep. That... hmm. That sounds rather creepy now that I'm admitting it, but come on! I was little, it was the middle of the afternoon, and it was FOR SCIENCE! If something is FOR SCIENCE! that means it's okay. Anyway, point being, open mouth + no swallowing = drooooooool. Sexy. You want this. Don't deny it.
I was thinking about all this last night as I was careening around* my queen bed solo, enjoying being able to fling my legs any which way I pleased. Sharing my bed with a new person is always hard, because I want to appear like I have perfect sleep manners... so basically, I sleep in tiny little 5 minute increments, which are cushioned by ridiculously long periods of laying awake, as still as possible, thinking about all the ways I wish I could arrange my limbs but desperately willing my body not to follow through on those impulses. Sharing the other person's bed with said new person is just double the issues, and the first time that happens, I'm lucky if I get any sleep at all. I love you, sleep! I do, truly and deeply! Why are you so evasive with me?
Anyone else a sleeptard?
*I realize I could have chosen another way to describe this, but the mental image I got of myself careening around a bed like an untied balloon just cracked me up.
Sleeping, I mean. I don't sleep well, and that makes me a very poor bedmate.
First, it takes me a while to fall asleep. I toss and turn like... well, a thing that tosses and turns a lot. It takes me several tries to get a position that feels juuuuust right so I can actually get to sleep. I start on one side. I try a few arrangements with my arms, then with my legs. Sometimes I shift a bit onto my stomach, then I might shift back. Often I end up in some kind of weird jack-knife position, which is fine when I'm alone, but if you're in the spot next me on the bed, it can lead to a knee in the back. Generally unpleasant.Then I'll switch to the other side and repeat the whole process.
Once I'm done acting like a marionette made of jumping beans (hey, now there's a nice image for your nightmares! YOU'RE WELCOME!), it's still not fun to be under the covers with me. I'm tiny, and I'm always cold, but holy crap do I warm up when I sleep. I have been called a human space heater. My metabolism is just churning away while my brain frolics in dream land, so I'm generating a ton of warmth, and it has nowhere to go thanks to the blankets. I usually start the night all bundled to the gills, but I wake up with blankets, socks, and pajama pants all thrown asunder. With yet another body thrown into this furnace, it just gets to be too much and I can't sleep at all. I'm back to tossing, turning, flinging blankets about, and being an all-around bed nuisance.
Then we have more tossing. More turning. I think this is probably how I get most of my exercise, actually. I wake up about 549862 times a night, and almost every time, a position change is required, even if just a tiny one. If I don't move/change sides/flail about, my joints start hurting like a mofo, and that makes for a very unhappy me. I don't think I've punched anyone in the face yet, but I have kicked, headbutted, and kneed my poor sleeping partners.
Do I snore? I've been told that sometimes I do, but I've also been told these snores are "tiny and cute." Sometimes, though, I get all congested and my unconscious self decides the solution to not being able to breathe through my nose is to just breathe through my mouth. Logical. Except, there I am, on my side with my mouth open, and did you know that you don't swallow in your sleep? When I was about 6 or 7, I watched a friend taking a nap at our babysitter's house, because I wanted to accurately be able to feign sleep. That... hmm. That sounds rather creepy now that I'm admitting it, but come on! I was little, it was the middle of the afternoon, and it was FOR SCIENCE! If something is FOR SCIENCE! that means it's okay. Anyway, point being, open mouth + no swallowing = drooooooool. Sexy. You want this. Don't deny it.
I was thinking about all this last night as I was careening around* my queen bed solo, enjoying being able to fling my legs any which way I pleased. Sharing my bed with a new person is always hard, because I want to appear like I have perfect sleep manners... so basically, I sleep in tiny little 5 minute increments, which are cushioned by ridiculously long periods of laying awake, as still as possible, thinking about all the ways I wish I could arrange my limbs but desperately willing my body not to follow through on those impulses. Sharing the other person's bed with said new person is just double the issues, and the first time that happens, I'm lucky if I get any sleep at all. I love you, sleep! I do, truly and deeply! Why are you so evasive with me?
Anyone else a sleeptard?
*I realize I could have chosen another way to describe this, but the mental image I got of myself careening around a bed like an untied balloon just cracked me up.
Monday, November 7, 2011
How NOT to Kiss
I've smooched some bad kissers in my day. In college there was a fella who seemed to think he should be inhaling during the makeouts, so that when we pulled apart there was an audible popping noise.Thus we have:
1. Don't kiss like a vacuum.
And anyone who is a fan of Sex & the City (which I would guess is many of you who are also fans of this blog) might recall the episode where Charlotte's date licks her face and sucks on her chin. Gah.
2. Don't kiss like a happy puppy.
I've mentioned previously in this blog that if you have to wipe your face off after someone kisses you, everything is wrong.
3. Don't kiss like a drooly baby. (wait... are there other kinds of babies? I don't know.)
Once while drunkenly making out with a younger guy, he came in too fast and too hard and actually busted my lip with his teeth.
4. Don't kiss like a hockey puck.
French-kissing is weird if you think about it too long, but it's definitely enjoyable if both parties are using their tongues properly. Darting your tongue rapidly in and out of the other person's mouth is NOT using it properly.
5. Don't kiss like a hungry lizard.
Also, my throat? Doesn't need to be licked. I get it, you have a long tongue. I have better places on my person for you to prove how far you can stick it out.
6. Don't kiss like a strep test.
One final tip... and this one is not from my personal experience...
7. DON'T SPIT IN THE OTHER PERSON'S MOUTH.
Yep. Not long ago, a friend of mine was sharing a story about a date she went on. The guy seemed all right until it came to smoochin' time. He asked her to open her mouth. Confused, she complied. And he? HE SPIT IN HER MOUTH.
I was pretty drunk when she told this story, but holy shit you just do not forget that kind of thing. I'm pretty sure her reaction was to tell him, hey, don't do that! Really? Really?? Because I'm almost positive my reaction would be to VOMIT ON HIM.
1. Don't kiss like a vacuum.
And anyone who is a fan of Sex & the City (which I would guess is many of you who are also fans of this blog) might recall the episode where Charlotte's date licks her face and sucks on her chin. Gah.
2. Don't kiss like a happy puppy.
I've mentioned previously in this blog that if you have to wipe your face off after someone kisses you, everything is wrong.
3. Don't kiss like a drooly baby. (wait... are there other kinds of babies? I don't know.)
Once while drunkenly making out with a younger guy, he came in too fast and too hard and actually busted my lip with his teeth.
4. Don't kiss like a hockey puck.
French-kissing is weird if you think about it too long, but it's definitely enjoyable if both parties are using their tongues properly. Darting your tongue rapidly in and out of the other person's mouth is NOT using it properly.
5. Don't kiss like a hungry lizard.
Also, my throat? Doesn't need to be licked. I get it, you have a long tongue. I have better places on my person for you to prove how far you can stick it out.
6. Don't kiss like a strep test.
One final tip... and this one is not from my personal experience...
7. DON'T SPIT IN THE OTHER PERSON'S MOUTH.
Yep. Not long ago, a friend of mine was sharing a story about a date she went on. The guy seemed all right until it came to smoochin' time. He asked her to open her mouth. Confused, she complied. And he? HE SPIT IN HER MOUTH.
I was pretty drunk when she told this story, but holy shit you just do not forget that kind of thing. I'm pretty sure her reaction was to tell him, hey, don't do that! Really? Really?? Because I'm almost positive my reaction would be to VOMIT ON HIM.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Apologies of the Asshat
In September 2009, my heart was broken. It was one of the worst breakups I've ever endured, and for added fun and love, I had to endure it twice. It's a miserable story and it was a contributor to me leaving my job for a new one and moving to where I am now.
After a couple of months of being the most miserable, confused, pathetic, broken-hearted person, I finally stuck my toe back into the dating world. There was a guy at work who was attractive, friendly, funny, and flirted with me. He told me he was pretty fresh out of a long-term relationship, but we traded numbers and he continued to be flirty. I figured that was just who he was, and we hung out as friends. He opened up, told me what had gone on with the girl before, I told him about my crap... later that night he texted me saying how comfortable he was with me, how easy I was to talk to. We continued to email and text each other over the next few days, just friendly.
He was going to a friend/coworker's home one night to play drums and hang out, and invited me along under the guise of "she's new here, wants to get to know people." It was early December 2009, and freezing out. We left the coworker's house at the same time, some very late hour, and as we reached his car and hugged goodbye, he paused, looked me in the eyes, and said, "How close are you to being willing to go home with me?"
After a couple of months of being the most miserable, confused, pathetic, broken-hearted person, I finally stuck my toe back into the dating world. There was a guy at work who was attractive, friendly, funny, and flirted with me. He told me he was pretty fresh out of a long-term relationship, but we traded numbers and he continued to be flirty. I figured that was just who he was, and we hung out as friends. He opened up, told me what had gone on with the girl before, I told him about my crap... later that night he texted me saying how comfortable he was with me, how easy I was to talk to. We continued to email and text each other over the next few days, just friendly.
He was going to a friend/coworker's home one night to play drums and hang out, and invited me along under the guise of "she's new here, wants to get to know people." It was early December 2009, and freezing out. We left the coworker's house at the same time, some very late hour, and as we reached his car and hugged goodbye, he paused, looked me in the eyes, and said, "How close are you to being willing to go home with me?"
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Out of the Fog?
Last night I was still in the Mega Funk that has gripped me since my birthday-ish, but this morning I woke up and... felt pretty okay. I meowed at my cat and laughed at his face, I cleaned his litter box, I took out the garbage. These are things I have not done in some time. Hooray!
I can say this: I still went to work and did my job. I still fed and took care of my cat (litter box aside). I'm fortunate to have a cat who does not pee or poop elsewhere if his box isn't up to his standards. I don't have any dirty dishes in the bedroom. My hair has been washed at least once in the last couple of days, and at no point did I do anything that caused me to hallucinate hobos living in my apartment.
So I think overall, that was definitely not the worst bout I've had, although it was rather lengthy. Guys, I think tonight? Tonight I might even... do the dishes.
| REGULAR PEANUT | DEPRESSED PEANUT |
| takes out garbage when it's full | does not take garbage out unless it has come to life and is giving advice to local Fraggles |
| cleans the litter box somewhat regularly | cleans the litter box when the cat is hovering over her with a butcher knife because there is NOWHERE LEFT TO PEE |
| eats smallish meals/snacks every few hours | does not eat most of the day, except maybe candy, then comes home and eats everything in sight |
| puts away laundry within a couple of days; generally has a couple pairs of jeans on the end of the bed and pajamas on the floor | still has clean laundry in the basket from over a week ago; has a small mountain of clothes/jackets/who knows on the end of the bed; has another small mountain of clothes in the corner from a handful of "what do I wear" moments over the last 3 weeks; dirty clothes are piled haphazardly in the spot where the laundry basket normally goes |
| washes sheets/pillowcases regularly | alternates pillows and sleeps in different positions to maximize use of clean spots on sheets/pillowcases as long as possible. slept diagonally the last few nights. hooray for large bed/small person! |
| does dishes within a day of dirtying them; immediately when baking | discovers new and previously under-utilized places in the apartment to store dirty dishes: coffee table! floor! desk! who knew? |
I can say this: I still went to work and did my job. I still fed and took care of my cat (litter box aside). I'm fortunate to have a cat who does not pee or poop elsewhere if his box isn't up to his standards. I don't have any dirty dishes in the bedroom. My hair has been washed at least once in the last couple of days, and at no point did I do anything that caused me to hallucinate hobos living in my apartment.
So I think overall, that was definitely not the worst bout I've had, although it was rather lengthy. Guys, I think tonight? Tonight I might even... do the dishes.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
My Alter Ego?
I think I have found my soul mate: http://journalnotkept.blogspot.com/2011/10/one-about-naked-guy.html
(just to be clear, I mean the author, not Naked Guy)
(just to be clear, I mean the author, not Naked Guy)
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