That time of year in Normal entries

I think we have the technology to make digital mirrors. Sort of like a web cam projected from inside a pixel based mirrored glass. You could use them fro entertainment (Superimpose someone else’s features on yours). Self help (have an ideal photo of yourself and the mirror will kindly point out what you need to do to reach that, like a data base of creams, vitamins, lotions and lifestyle choices that leas to things like crow feet. The full length would have to be very expensive and even kinder). Espionage, a combination of the other two, superimposing another face and then telling you how to make it.

To answer for that brilliant idea and the unasked question; yes I have submitted for a green card. If you think I mean immigration, not only are you the butt of an old joke, but people are giggling , maybe not at you or because of you, you’re just coincidentally the catalyst of an inevitable giggling fit. Maybe, I don’t know, marijuana acts a bit different each time and with each person. Not the way, say, alcohol or LSD or even aspirin is (You don’t know if you’re allergic to aspirin until you are, and you don’t know if aspirin is eating a hole in your tummy, and there is a lethal dose of aspirin, sure, it’s a lot, but much less than you can purchase over the counter, and, I think, you have several hours. But, still, you can’t consume enough marijuana for it to be lethal. Sure, I guess you could stuff your tail pipe, but that’s not the same thing.). I mean the differences are miniscule are limited. Ranging from at worst paranoia to at best euphoria, both are subjective and almost abstract. Physically there’s side effects like cotton mouth and the munchies, but it’s not the dose, I mean you get those with a little bit and with a lot.

Wow. Christ I get didactic when I’m shy of material. Explaining marijuana to half of you, conservatively, is like explaining how a qwerty keyboard is laid out. Heh, there’s even a few versions of the quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog for, um, efficacy validation. That’s a damn fancy phrase for buzz check. Some folks in the medical marijuana field think damn fancy phrases give credence to the whole medical part. Um, it’s a formality, self conscious about being a formality, sure to joke just enough where even the least subtle of people pick up on the idea that everyone knows it’s a formality.

Up until last year the law here was … restrictive in a curious way. They passed the law in 2008, but, dispensaries law just popped up last year, Spring 2016. It was a tougher vetting process getting recreational marijuana in Oregon this past Autumn. I mean the security was tougher and everyone was much more serious and they had great detail about product, properties, usage, targeted benefits of each strain, not a single mention of the coolest bud for stoney good times or one that makes you horny or what beer is best to serve with what strain.

Here it was different. Yes, I had to go to a specific doctor. Like all the others in his specific field the upfront warning is that the marijuana docs won’t diagnosis you, they read your medical history and sign off on salient pieces that get approval and submit the paperwork. Wait, no, they make you two copies of the paper work, shove the copy the state needs in an addressed envelope and tell you to put it in a mailbox. From beginning to end, including filling out the paperwork, I was there less than 20 minutes, long enough to finish a ten ounce Keurig green mountain dark magic. Besides the introduction and handshake the doctor didn’t even look at me.
I had a fight in late 2015 over the diagnosis of PTSD for me. I still think it’s a foolish diagnosis. And shit, I don’t know, maybe I do have it and that’s the reason I want to argue … long story short, it was a better qualifier than chronic pain. They were afraid they’d have to get dramatic to make a case for chronic pain, despite have a short, almost meaningless, summery of my case. I think PTSD is a no questions qualifier because of the significant number of vets who suffer. Curious way of supporting the troops, but it makes too much sense not to be true. I don’t know, again, the doc looks at history, circles the stuff that’s get you a card, someone types that into a form and without so much as a ‘Turn Your Head and Cough’ a medical professional has written you a script For the old school DEA’s worst nightmare.

Even more surprising the copy of paperwork I was given …? I was told by the lady (yeah, I’m not sure what her function was, but she had the nicest office and smiled a lot) that I would get card in four weeks, but, some places let you use the completed paperwork as a temporary card. Then she gave me a Xerox copy of a dispensary and hand wrote 5.00 off first purchase. They didn’t honor that, but, yeah, fortyfive minutes after filling out paperwork and I’ve got a paw full of chronic and a jar of magic gummies. Um, and I went back yesterday. Why? Well, for honey, more gummies, and resin because there’s a new way the kids smoke.

I have never thought of myself as a lightweight when it comes to marijuana. The first gummi I ate I ate the whole thing. Half hour later I’m as stoned as a motherfucker. I mean I haven’t been that stoned in a long time. Oh, heh. I guess I didn’t finish with the paperwork as proof of intent. The law is written clearly on the binder, 20 days before you can use it as a temp. The Lady warned me that if I get caught by law enforcement with medicine and only the paperwork I’ll probably need an attorny. Another one of those not formal, wink wink, sort of things. There were questions I didn’t want to ask, like, wouldn’t the dispensary be in trouble and maybe you? She was basically telling me if I’m cool no one cares, and, yes, no one cares.

The dispensary guy was kicked back about the whole thing too. He did ask if I actually put the letter in the mailbox. I did and I had, and he asked for ID, but not so much so that he needed it out of the wallet. In Oregon for recreational marijuana there is a limit to how much you can purchase. I asked dude here; two and a half ounces. I don’t think I’ve smoked that much weed in the past … 37 years. Yes, today is my birthday. Shhhh, no jinx’s no questions, if I’m very still and quiet perhaps the universe will go looking for some other prey.

So, to aid me in the pursuit of not anything happening (just shy of wearing a helmet and pads to not do anything in. Um, I don’t know about here, prosebox, but I’ve laid out the birthday curse so many times online I’m not sure I have the energy to do it again) I’ve collected a variety of ways to … be medicated. It’s weird, although I’m on pretty potent pharmaceuticals, they’ve never felt recreational, I mean my tolerance level makes for a lot of no high. High isn’t really important to me in a medication, but it’s a side effect I’m willing to live with.