Friday, May 22, 2009

no title

Why do I keep denying it? I love to sing. I really do. It really brings me joy. I need to do it more often. But I want to hone it, my voice, too. Not just sing in my car. I don't want to be famous, I just want to sing and stir in people emotions with the song I sing.

Step 1- Singing lessons, maybe?
Step 2- Karaoke nights?
Step 3- Open mic nights?

Sleeping pill kicking in....

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

One more thing

I made the most delicious Peach Crisp and hand whipped cream. I even surprised myself.
Perfect marriage of peach, buttery crumble top and chantilly cream.
Let's have the pictures do all the justice:





Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Meanderings

My sleeping pill is kicking in and I'll probably read this tomorrow and not even remember writing this.

Of late, I have been craving to get high on pills. It's more of a feeling: It's the feeling I would get when I was laid up in the hospital and the nurse would pull up to the door of my room, check my vitals, then ask me what my pain level is. I would lie and say a level 9. The filipina nurse would then turn on her reebok'd heel back to her cart built like an armored truck. Inside is the entire floors supply of medication that can only be administered by the RN. The key to unlock the "safe" is hooked by one of those retractable belt thingies around her small waist. In the hallway, she would pull out a glass vial from a concrete case. Inserting the needle into the bottle top she pulls back the plunger to a desired cc. After returning the vial in the "safe" the nurse breaks off the needle, leaving only the syringe that is now a perfect male fit to my female IV.

Then she would walk towards me with a nice motherly smile. At this point, my brain is firing off a million miles per hour anticipating getting my fix. On the outside, I have grimaced face to simulate level 9 pain that doesn't exist. Filipina nurse says, "Don't worry, this will help with all the pain." She then pull a small blue square out her pocket, rips it open to reveal an alcohol swab that she use to clean the insertion site on my IV line. Then she attaches the syringe full of dilaudid/morphine by a simple quarter turn, and slowly starts to push on the plunger. She goes slow since my vein is small and weak and does not want to "bust" the vein. She also goes slow because the opioids themselves burn inside the vein and can be very painful. The entire process is completely pleasurable to me, the anticipation of getting my fix up to the time the drugs actually reach my brain and I can barely keep my eyes open. I love it. I really really love it.

Its the same feeling I get when I have to use anesthesia for any procedure, like when had my wisdom tooth taken out. They gave me a cocktail called "Twilight" of a Benzodiazapine, a Barbituate, and an Opioid, like demerol, morphine or stadol. I love love love love love love Twilight. I would love to just take at home to chill the fuck out.

Man, my desires for these illicit things are still strong, that I don't really care about the consequences when i'm craving.

right now, i have 3-80mg Oxycontin. but I have no desire to take them, because I don't think I'm not going to like what how it will make me feel.

Time to pass out.

Wednesday, May 06, 2009

Good morning, it's wednesday!

Here's a typical thing. I haul ass to get to the farmers market by 7:30am. I arrive to get a text from my chef that he can't make it. A little perturbed, I am determined to be grateful of the change of plans. I buy a bag o'cherries and walk to the beach to bask in the morning light.

I need to change my paradigm.