Oh boy.
What a wasted day.
I mean that in the most literal of senses.
Sunday was a complete nothing day, nothing went right, nothing turned out as it was planned, nothing on the television (Arrested Development was pre-empted by some stupid awards show - like we need another awards show!!), nothing to do. Please allow me to elaborate (I figure I should be polite cause if you don't want details, this might become a bit boring and tedious):
I was supposed to take photos of my friend at the ballet studio he works at, but the afternoon wore on, he became tied up with family phone calls and other engagements, and I just became more listless. We had a two hour window, but I realized that if I didn't want photos of a ballet dancer looking like he was about to spring from a plieé into a panic attack, doing the shoot in 90 minutes was not a good thing. I opted to go over to his house instead. That is where the fun began...
We had some pot to smoke (I do it every once in a blue moon. Apparently it is supposed to help with my Fibromyalgia and take my mind off the pain... DUH!! Of course it takes my mind off the pain!! I am too busy laughing my head off as I look at the cigarette butt burn!!) and brainstormed about the artistic logistics of the shoot. It seemed oddly funny that we spoke in elliptical sentences, ending in me saying - "I though we talked about this before?". The herbal tea was nice on a cold, crummy day and staying inside a warm house with a new friend was enough to get my spirits out of a weekend sag.
As I got ready to leave, my friend carefully placed in a Ziploc, a piece of pot cake (I think I may have mentioned this in the previous blog). It was wrapped in wax paper like the shroud of Turin. 'That's some nasty Betty Crocker mix there my dear!! No wonder there were so many happy housewives at those 1960's Tupperware parties!!'
Pulling his hand out of the fridge, he said: 'Here - try this -.'
A chunky smooshy looking chocolate chip cookie was being waved in my face.
This was a no-no.
I am stoned, have not eaten dinner and you wave a cookie in my face? Why torture me??
I took a little micro-nibble.
'I'll give you one to take home, we made them today - they were still hot and chewy. I think putting them in the fridge made them all hard...'
One cookie?
Just one cookie?
Strange...
So that night I went home, buried myself into a bag of Orville Redenbacher's Buttery Popcorn, poured a glass of Taylor Fladgate Port (Special reserve, whatever that means...) and planted my butt in front of the TV. The hours came and went. I was exhausted. I fell asleep before 4am. A record for me.
Monday night, I was supposed to meet with the producer, but her associate had 'surprise visitation rights' and had to reschedule for another time. What to do. As was (and still am) in the middle of my 'big fat obnoxious unwanted houseguest', the muchie barometer started peaking.
That cookie...
that one cookie.
Hmmm.
It tasted different. Not off, just different.
I figured it had some sort of spice added to it like Cardamom or Nutmeg. I had recently been introduced to Swedish cooking at my friend's cookie party and learned a new language of herbs and spices that I never even knew existed. I chalked up this 'interesting taste' to some Nordic recipe that the roommate had.
Oh Boy. Was I wrong.
As I sat watching the Simpsons, everything seemed so funny. Funnier than usual. I caught myself laughing, but no sound came out. My belly was so clenched from the heave that I felt my face turn a bright red and the pressure in my eyes build up. E just looked at me with a 'what the hell is up with you' look.
'You okay there?"
I thought that was the second funniest thing in the world.
I slapped his arm and and then folded in two.
It was hysterical, or so my baked brain thought.
Why am I feeling like this?
"I dunno, you tell me."
"I mean that as an internal monologue/question.'
'oh.'
It was the cookie!! They had put pot in the cookie, baked it and made it look like an unsuspecting 'made from scratch with lots of love' cookie!
That is why he only gave me one! It all made sense! The cravings, suddenly finding commercials deeply engaging and enlightening, the sheer joy of making my cat run in circles until it stumbled across the room on a diagonal trajectory.
The pot was in the cookie...
And now I had a whole 4 hours to enjoy the ride this wacked-out culinary high.
As I said before, consuming this stuff makes me really silly and quite entertaining to be around, but when it wears off, I get really sleepy really fast. The day after is really 'the day after' as I wake up bloated from the copious consumption of junk food and exhausted from what the drug siphons out of my system. Being bi-polar II (manic depressive with rapid cycling mania/hypo mania, for those not familiar with the DSMV - IV) and on meds, doing this kind of thing is not really frowned upon by headshrinkers, (they just shake their heads and say ' I told you so') but the reality is that pot is a 'downer' and can make you a little melancholy (I don't like to use the word depressed because I have not had a huge wave of 'depression' in a while, and it evokes images of people who don't believe in personal hygiene and Manchester England on a grey rainy spring day). So today I woke up, melancholy and super bloated. I don't know how, but I managed to plough through 1/3 of a chocolate cake that E's mother had given us (plus that whole bag of popcorn with 1/2 cup of butter on it) in last night's sitting. E left a message for me on the answering machine:
"God! I don't know how you did it! It's past noon and you still must be sleeping! (Laughing) When I saw the container for the cake empty in the skink I was wondering what time you got to bed last night!? With all that caffeine, I was sure that I would wake up to go to work and you would still be awake!"
The day was a waste. It was so sunny outside (days that my withering body craves!) but I had missed the whole thing. I ate a bow of cereal for my breakfastlunchmidafternoon snack and tried to write. I was verbally constipated (and you might be saying - WOW GIRL !! You must have gotten a hold of the Exlax for writers tonight!!!) and uninspired. I spoke with the producer briefly, had confirmation that it is, indeed I who will be writing the play, and was asked how my progress was with it. I said that things were coming together. It's true, but I also fear that I might have taken off a little more than I can chew...
On a downer, everything is crappy. Your life is crappy, your hair is crappy, the milk in your fridge is crappy, the cats crap is crappy and the list goes on. Today, I felt like my body and brain had been wrung dry of all the elements of funny, and what remained were bad puns and silly euphemisms that only Big Bird on Sesame Street used - and that was in a pinch.
So I sit here, floating around in an ambivalent state of bland, hoping that tomorrow will bring some much needed inspiration and shape to this amoeba of a potential play.
Blogging is the literary diareaha of a generation.
And because of that statement, I have to share this with you...
If you don't really care, let it come out everywhere...
Diarrhoea.. Diarrhoea.
This wet bottom belch'll make u sit down with a squelch...
It looks a bit like fudge, with a consistency of sludge...
I did it on the bus, to make a little fuss...
I once just let it squirt, but I got some on my shirt...
When u feel it in ur bowels, prepare several towels...
Once I ate a chilli, and it came out of my wily...
It usually heads south, but can come out of ur mouth...
When it came out of my ear, I had to shed a tear...
It comes out the fanny, of every single granny...
Squeeze ur buttocks tight, don't let it gush without a fight...
If u want it in ur life, you'll never find a wife...When u've drunk a lot of beer, the sooth-seer makes it clear, to know it's very near, my dear oh dear dear dear...
diarrhoea!
Thank you so much Pogo for that wonderful wonderful song... http://thepogosphere.blogspot.com/
and my silly reply:
OH MY GOD!I thought I was the only other person in the world that knew this song...
diarrhoea (chuuu chuuu chuuu**) diarrhoea(chuuu chuuu chuuu)
Some people think its funny but its really wet and runny, diarrhoea(chuuu chuuu chuuu) diarrhoea(chuuu chuuu chuuu)
Some people think its gross but its really good on toast diarrhoea (chuuu chuuu chuuu) diarrhoea(chuuu chuuu chuuu).
**my friend and I learned this song with the percussion -y "chuuu chuuu chuuu" added in as pacing or iambic pentameter, but yours is hysterical.
2 comments:
Small world....We had that song as well growing up in Uganda, but the words were slightly different. It did have the 'diarrhoea..CHUU CHUU' thingy. And very interesting post about the cookie! I was laughing througout.
You guys kill me!!
Keep those comments coming!
;-)
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