Monday, October 1, 2007

Mon moose est disparu et je suis tout seul!

Ah another day in the land of the fee, home of the rage.... Today I am ending a week long "drug holiday" and getting a refill of Zoloft. Unfortunately the nearest Walgreen's is in Fairfax VA- a good hours drive. After an hour or two of OCD- (I created a zen garden pattern in the back yard with the vacuum cleaner)- I sat off on the road not unlike Valencia Merble, the wife of Billy Pilgrim in "Slaughterhouse Five" racing through traffic crying "I'm coming Billy!" I would warn anyone who is currently taking this particular drug not to attempt going cold turkey, the symptoms you had before starting Zoloft are nothing compared to the surreal side effects you experience when you suddenly stop taking the crap.
Why bother in the first place with antidepressants? We all have different brain chemistry and for some of us the drug makes us feel.... um, Clear- sounds like Scientology doesn't it? Well screw it- I know for me the shit works.

I often wonder what things would be like for me if i didn't take Ol' Zolie, would I be in A Mental Prison? Would I be in the Oval Office beforehand? The years before treatment I tended to be very driven and a bit angry- well, saying I was a bit angry is an understatement, it's like saying Hitler was a little hard on the Jews- One can only refer to a recent archaeological find from my past- this in the form of a Cosmo magazine quiz circa 1990ish. It was one of those "Whats your personality type/ And how to pleasure any man accordingly" type things. One of the questions was "What do you think your guy looks best in?" I had scratched out the multiple choice answers and wrote "The look of fear and dread I try to inspire every day" ...Oh bad kitty, bad bad bad kitty.

When not scaring children and old ladies with my adorable Charlie Manson look, my answer at the time was to work out at the gym every day for three hours- Oh the Endorphin, Dopamine and Norepinephrine- Holy Trinity! Seems the same effective chemicals are released and controlled by popping a teensy golden pill without all that unattractive healthy glow and shit.

Ponder this - Would things have been any different for the greats of history if these drugs were available, say, in the 18th or 19th century? Probably not. The other drugs around at the time were inspiring enough- "Laudanum with your Absinthe dear?" On a different subject, when Byron threw a little dinner party, did he guess it would make history and inspire a movie later with Laura Dern? I doubt he could have known this.
The same, doubtful, iffy, wonderful fate I see for our own memories.
Ah, look, I am writing memoirs and epitaphs whilst the players are still on stage.
How morbid of moi.... Let me change the subject to drinking, all the world loves the hooch- all the people that count anyway.
Here is one of my favourite cocktails, created by a lovely goth drag queen in New Orleans by the name of Raven Nevermore, its called the "Tuberculartini" ....
Chill a martini glass. (something St. Louis if possible)

Chill 1 1/2 oz. Chopin vodka

Strain into glass while thinking longingly of George Sand

"Splatter" with a few drops of Grenadine

Serve on a crumpled and faded lace handkerchief.

Heavenly! An homage to Chopin my most sickliest of heroes. Simple, classic, and drenched in blood, and how convenient for us that he has his own brand of vodka.

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zeitgeist, particular friend, perky libertine, animated trickster, iconoclast, rabble-rouser, object of worship, provocateur, capricious damp enchantress, idiosyncratic beloved reptile, whimsical saucy booze hound, bellwether, luminary, stoic, pensive illicit paramour, aloof, engaged, intuitive, curious, perplexing deranged mastermind, passionate, lasciviously adored offspring, amorous, sultry flamboyant charioteer, scholar, scribe, exalted thespian, voracious, considerable chieftain, impaired, cynical colleague, dreamer, procrastinator, loathsome glutton, artist, oppressed peasant, dainty heathen, narcissist, self-loathing...renaissance man