Friday, Mar. 09, 2007
♫ One Toke Over The Line ♫
No, I'm not high. When I saw that the lead singer of Boston had died, for some reason that song popped into my head. Not sure why, considering Brewer & Shipley sang it, not Boston. Or maybe it was just the whole drug culture of rock 'n roll of that era.
I did once inhale, myself. When the kids' dad was alive and we hadn't been married for very long, he was a total and complete pothead. (And a total and complete asshole, but you already knew that.) I kept telling him to keep the stuff away from me, which led him to blow smoke directly into my face.
A real class act there, as you can tell.
His verbal response was invariably accompanied by a sneer: "How can you say anything bad about it when you haven't tried it?"
One time I was so thoroughly pissed off that I grabbed the thing, took a long, deep drag (lest he accuse me of faking it) and breathed out. I was livid beyond words and didn't come close to getting high. However, I freaked him out totally and his high turned really, really bad. (Lemme tell you, you most assuredly CAN have a bad high on pot. He swore he was dying, and I was just mad enough by then to reply, "Don't make promises you don't intend to keep.")
This jerk used to slip all kinds of "extras" into what I was drinking and eating, and was absolutely boggled at the fact that the crap he slipped me didn't impact me at all.
What he didn't realize was that while at the time two aspirins would render me unconscious, I have some kind of freaky natural immunity to morphine and derivatives. Tylenol with codeine? Puh-leeze. When the doctor prescribes that for me, I don't even bother filling the prescription. I get more effect from downing a glass of plain iced water. Apparently that immunity extends to whatever my ex was feeding me. I didn't find out until years later, by which time I was too tired and too fed up to give a proper shit.
Dunno what prompted that. Today's "trip down memory lane" sort of has a whole 'nother connotation, I guess.
Bringing us back to the future, I was supposed to have a four hour orientation today, but it was abbreviated to a little over three hours, thanks to an equipment crash. No big deal: I found out all the key stuff and listened to a recap of the same kinds of rigamarole we were told at Alien Trolls & Tackleboxes. Different atmosphere here, I am guessing. The drastically lower attrition figures are a good sign.
After that short session, MC and I high-tailed it down to Tombstone to retrieve my final paycheck from there.
Ex-boss was in a mood when we arrived. I gather she is also about thisclose to flying from that particular cuckoo's nest. Can't say I blame her.
We had to wait a while to even GET the check from her - the place was a madhouse. Then we had to dash to the bank before it closed.
MC was supposed to get the car title notarized so the new owners could get it put in their name. Only one problem with that. He brought the paperwork, all right. Unfortunately what he brought was the registration, not the title. It took a minute for that to sink in, but of course once he realized what he'd done, he was kicking himself in the backside. If you had any idea what a vehicle-nut that MC is, you'd realize just how funny the whole experience really was.
Nothing lost in the process - we'll get it signed off here, probably tomorrow.
From there we headed back into town, but since we grabbed a bite en route, we took a slight detour to go to the swap meet tonight. The temperature was perfect - 80 degress when we pulled in just at sundown, according to the time/temp sign just outside the gate. We decided up front to limit our spending, hence had put all but a very, VERY minimal amount in the bank.
We did, however, pick up a car charger for MC's phone, paid $6 for it. Considering the ONLY other one we'd found to fit his phone was $30, that alone was worth the stop. But we also found a few other goodies along the way. MC discovered a John Wayne movie he wanted. (Hey, there was bound to be SOMETHING in which our tastes disagreed, right?)
We also picked up a jester music box for me - for a dollar. I collect unusual jester goodies, and had NEVER seen anything quite like this little guy. As the music plays, his body rotates above the base, which is designed like a snare drum. I would've preferred something other than gold lamé, but considering how unique he is, I am still thrilled to have him. I'll try to get a picture tomorrow if I can remember.
Our only other purchases were a six-foot stuffed dragon for our oldest grandson (who has a collection going,) some unusual new stones, and two bottles of water. The whole thing, water and parking included, ran us $16. That's cheaper than a night at the movies and healthier, since we walked probably close to a mile around the place.
I'm dead on my butt again - kind of a constant state of being any more, I know. Anywho, calling it a night and crawling into bed shortly. If nothing else I'm going to read for a while. Provided Toby the Wonder Dog allows me on the bed, which is more dubious by the day. Toby hasn't been terribly cooperative lately. MC's acknowledged that Toby needs to be put down. He's just not come to the point of actually going through with it yet.
Before - After
In the grander scheme of things, no soul can truly be replaced. Each one of us has a place in the universal tapestry. We each contribute our own color and texture. When one thread is snipped too soon, it distorts all the threads around it. Other lives can unravel and tear. If the wrong thread is ripped away, the whole fabric of life becomes dangerously fragile.
- LeiLani, aka Radiogurl aka Bright Opal (1957 - )