Cape Side Woes

The Italian and I took an impromptu trip for what we call "luxury camping." We camp in a tent outside his families cape house where we have wifi and access to the pool and bathhouse and usually hit up a restaurant for dinner and have lunch on the beach from the seasonal seafood shacks. During the morning rush and rush-of-mood-swings, I was packing up my purse (weed, camera, bowl, lighter, snacks, etc) and realized all that shit wasn't going to fit in it. So, in comes my huge ass suede reptile print hobo. And you know what I forgot to take out of the other purse? My fuckin' weed. I always put it in the inside zipper pocket and clearly, my x-ray vision is out of commission. Like last week, we went to the beach and I took my little pipe from Costa Rica (pictured) and I had a wonderful time. I love the lid on it!!

Imagine my freak out when, after setting up the tent, I'm ready for a bowl and I don't have it. Since my anxiety has been through the roof lately, it wasn't a pleasant scene. My boyfriend, being the wonderful man he is, offered to drive me back to Boston from the Cape (and back to the Cape again, if I so desired). Of course, it's super sweet, but also kind of ridiculous. So, I sucked it up and am doing the drug-free thing for 24 hours.

After sleeping on the ground though, I'm in desperate need of a bowl, my bed, and tonight's yoga class. As of now, we're both in the tent, rocking the Notorious B.I.G. Pandora station, pecking away at our laptops, me blogging and him reading the news (probably, mostly, soccer news). We woke up at 6 o'clock in the morning to the sound of crows well, crowing and the noises of other fauna on Cape Cod. It was also pretty sweet when last night at about 3:30 in the morning when the sprinklers went off and were pounding our tent. Not.

It's kind of a tradition for me to smoke where ever we go (oh, you're surprised?). I usually toke on the car on the drive, windows cracked just enough for the smoke to escape but not enough to make lighting a bowl impossible. I know, I know, "why don't you spark up a joint?" Well, I'm just really not a fan of joints. I feel like so much weed is wasted! Especially when it's windy and then that shit just burns freely when you're not puffing on it. Last year for our anniversary we took a trip to Vermont and rented a hotel room. And damn straight I smoked in that hotel room! When I go back home, I smoke that dirty Mexican schwag all day everyday. That is, until it makes me pass out for my afternoon nap, usually around 4 o'clock. The only place I don't get to smoke when I visit is NYC. None of my friends who live there smoke so I don't know where to pick up, and I'm not really down with taking an eighth with me on the Bolt/Megabus.

I'm guessing most of you take a break when you're on vacation or weekend trips. but shit, I just don't want to.
Stay Stoned ♥

In case you were wondering, I'm still crazy.

Back in October of 2009 (which was really just 4 posts ago because of my lazy ass) I mentioned I was getting prescribed. Well, Monday was one of those days where the adverse effects sneak up on me-- paxiflu. Most people who take or have taken Paxil experience some sort of side effect, most notoriously, withdrawal.

For the record, other than not being generally hungry, I have never experienced withdrawal from marijuana. Just my prescriptions. Anyway, I ran out of refills and had to have it called in so I missed a day... maybe two (my memory is shit, I may have forgotten to take it the day before). It starts with me acting like a bitch. Then I get night sweats and chills then nausea, vomiting if I try to take my meds, dizziness/lightheadedness, general shit. Legit, one of the worst things I experience and all I can do is try to sleep it off and keep down a bland meal so I can attempt to reintroduce a low-dose. And smoking doesn't always help; it'll calm the nausea but make the dizziness worse, helps me sleep but make me hungry for foods I can't be eating.

My poor boyfriend hates to see me sick, he's such a sport. He sat for hours in the dark so I could sleep and made me rice. I'm on the up now, having a morning bowl, watching Parenthood. Ultimately, the meds work. Since October 2009 a lot of things have happened-- not all good, some extremely dramatic and problematic, and super emotional. But I think I'm okay now. I'm not weepy or overly emotional, I don't have the severe mood swings, and I typically feel pretty good about myself and my job and my situation. It really has taken all this time to get the meds right, and to get to this point, which was probably why blogging fell through the cracks, it's a pretty intense experience, if not just downright exhausting.

Who knew taking care of yourself and eating right was so difficult? I mean, I've been up for two hours now and the task of breakfast just seems so daunting. The munchies will get the best of me soon though.

Stay Stoned. ♥

But then I got high.

So I was going to make a post last night, but then I got high and Matilda was OnDemand and well, there goes my night. Next week... maybe.

Anyways, Today was part 2 on the Honesty Vs. Dishonesty with the doctors experiment. This appointment went a lot better, I'm not as angry and I was when I left last time, and I'm on yet another new medication. This medication has the potential to get me watsted off of one glass of wine so drinking is looking even less appealing than usual, but I'll survive. A one drink tolerance may actually be a godsend in disguise, I mean, imagine how much money I'll save if a bottle of wine can get me drunk 4 times over.

She said nothing about my smoking (I guess she got the message) and just stressed the drinking and watching my food intake. This new medication is making me pretty nervous, I've never been on an anxiety medication other than marijuana before.

Today I'm getting high and going to Ikea. I'VE NEVER BEEN BEFORE. I'm clearly fucking stoked. Let's hope I don't break the bank.

Stay Stoned.

Fly like paper get high like planes.

My favorite place in the world to be high? (Besides curled up in my chaise lounge, reading a gook book...) The airport. For the last few years I've always gotten high before traveling and flying. People tell me I'm stupid with all the TSA regulations but I'm never holding, just high, so I don't see the harm in an extra-chill passenger.

I probably would have flipped the fuck out at the crazy check-in line if I hadn't have been high. I almost didn't make my flight. I constantly have to be conscious of my anxiety in places like airports with large congregations of people because it's really easy for me to become flustered or overwhelmed. I got through security with no problems despite the fact that I didn't have a plastic bag for my liquids, (but FYI if you're wearing door-knocker earrings they will set off the metal detector) and got on the plane and passed out for the whole first part of my flight. I'm in Philadelphia now, tired as fuck and just had a wonderful munchies session.

That's the other wonderful thing about the airport, SNACKS. My first stop was Chick-Fil-A, could you think of anything better? I ordered a chicken biscuit (It's still too early for lunch) and a medium lemonade. Nom, nom, nom. After that I strolled over to Sabarro and got a large caesar salad and I'm eyeing a Philadelphia pretzel from the cart across the way. Hopefully all this food will put me to sleep so I don't have to endure the next 5 hours sitting in that tiny plane. Maybe I'll watch The Wackness again on my laptop, I can't get enough of that movie for some reason.

Anyways, In about seven hours I'll be with my pot smoking family and my perma-baked Sandy sitting in the pool sipping on a Blue Moon, hopefully. Let's hope for the best shall we? I'm picking up an ounce as soon as I roll into the Dub C and this week I'm hoping to put together that joint-rolling tutorial (or at least find the best one out there), muse about having a stoner family, and my favorite things to do while stoned in the pool. Expect inside jokes, copious amounts of weed and hopefully lots of pictures.

Awesome.

Before I go into details about my wonderful-turned-shiteous night let me tell you a little about myself.

My parents separated when I was about 4. My dad had a drug and alcohol problem, and despite once being a prominent lawyer, lost his license and most of his money. He cheated on my mom, evaded taxes, was in extreme debt, and his solution for things was to attempt suicide. Thankfully he's still with us, but while he was gone my mom and grandma did the best they could for me growing up, if I needed it I had it, and even things I didn't need I had. I remember coming home to lights or water being shut off, and almost losing our home.

Needless today, my childhood had a pretty big effect on me. I've been in and out of therapy for over 11 years now, but am really opposed to the idea of taking 'happy pills'. I also have pretty terrible acid reflux (which I also don't take medication for) and which, If I'm not careful can be really dangerous. Like last night. I had maybe 3 drinks, and was ready to smoke and retire for the night with my friend but my chest had other plans. It was like my stomach went up in flames. I barely got one good hit in before I knew it was going to be a long night. I just started throwing up and heaving. Once there was nothing left in my stomach, I kept heaving which made me feel like I was choking and sent me into a bit of a panic attack. My friend called a cab for me, but when I got downstairs he drove away. That caused my breathing to get a little shallow and messed up, so we had to just call an ambulance. Once I got to the hospital, they asked me a bunch of questions I had to struggle to answer and where I also discovered that my piece of shit sidekick 3 had erased all my phone numbers and texts and I couldn't remember my mom or my best friend's phone number, which made me even more freaked out and uncomfortable.

After they made me answer all those questions, they pretty much put me in a room til I fell asleep and when I woke up, they sent me home. Awesome. I really hope my insurance covers that ambulance ride, I know those aren't cheap and I haven't even told my mom I took one, cause I know she's going to worry about it too. Money has always been tight in this family, and it's one of my biggest stressors.

Typically to manage my anxiety and acid reflux I smoke. When I don't smoke my depression gets worse, I have no appetite, and get irritable easily. Smoking helps me stay calm and eat and for some reason, my acid reflux doesn't get bad when I eat while smoking. Ugh, for now though, I need to pick up and put this behind me, or I'm going to feel even worse about it.