Finally, some REAL drugs...

Hiya Stevie baby....what's shakin'?

I'm finally getting some REAL drugs from the doctor to kick this bronchitis into oblivion.  It's day 17 and frankly it is annoying.  I called this morning and they prescribed me a "Z-pack," or something like that, an antibiotic, that I'll be taking for 5 days.  If I could have had THAT 17 days ago, maybe I wouldn't have HAD bronchitis at all.  Stupid doctors.  I did not realize, however, that codeine can be addictive.  But, I am now on refill #2 of my cough syrup, so it's not exactly working very quickly on me.  I don't know how much you have to take to become an addict, but I'm well on my way I'm sure.

I also took another half of my happy pill today...because frankly I have noticed that when I take only half a pill, as I have been for a few weeks, it just doesn't seem to keep me on an even keel, ya know?  That is, I don't feel quite...myself.  Yesterday, especially, I felt the same dark sad mood that I felt after 9/11, and it was looming larger and larger as the day went on.  I don't like feeling that.  So, I decided to take a whole pill today instead.  It actually seemed to work just fine, I haven't felt very sad at all.

Soooo, other than taking drugs and coughing my head off, I've been just peachy.  How are you?

I'm happy to report that the Facebook "Steve Perry Faithful Ones" page has been officially re-launched, and people are able to ooh and ahh about you once again.  One whole day without it, and about 3 dozen gaggly women were going through massive withdrawal apparently....myself included.  Some days I really don't like being a gaggly woman.  Other days, I simply can't gaggle enough.

Anyway, a writer friend of mine who lives in NY and went to school with Pete, has given me a critique of my writing...and she says I should send it in to the Huffington Post, or "Huffpo," as she calls it.  She thinks it's THAT GOOD.  I'm rather blown away that one dude who works for Playboy says I should send it there, and now this woman is all over me with Huffpo...I'm kinda wondering if perhaps THEY are taking way more drugs than I am.  Are they both THAT delusional?  Really??

Well, so I'm teetering on the edge of what to do with my writing at the moment.  See, I have a dilemma, because I really want to publish the Holocaust book that I've been working on FOREVER, before I do anything else.  I don't want to go out there like gangbusters with smut, ya know?  I would much rather do something I am proud of, for all the Survivors I know and love that I worked with at the Museum. I mean, smut has its place in the world, for sure, but is it really something I should dabble in for REAL?  I am no expert, but apparently the subject matter of what I've been teaching in a class is highly regarded in many circles, and therefore, I'm being encouraged to submit it to those various publications.

What to do, what to do.

Well, anyway, I'm tired as hell....I think the Z pack antibiotics are massively zonking me out...maybe that Z stands for zonk, I don't know, but I'm pooped.  I know the codeine makes me sleepy too.

Pete just got home. He's been working late a lot lately.  I tried watching t.v. earlier, but other than Gene Kelly movies on Turner Classic Movies, there really was a lot of CRAP that I have no interest in whatsoever....like Andrew Zimmern, the guy who travels the world and eats disgusting food....this evening, he was in Beijing, eating PENISES of various animals...I am not kidding.  I couldn't watch.  I mean, I have put MY mouth on a few of those in my lifetime, sure, but I wouldn't EAT the damned things.  That's just beyond nastified.

Oh and how about "Honey Boo-Boo," the unfortunate southern Georgian redneck girl child who enters beauty pageants, and lives with a horrendously horrible family of freaks, seriously in need of major therapy.  I watched 2 episodes in a row, but I just couldn't stand to keep watching the third.  It's like a train wreck.  They jump into MUD pits, for FUN.  It's just WAYYY more redneck than I've ever seen in my whole LIFE, and that says a LOT coming from farm town Michigan.

Well, I'm off to bed my friend.  I love you, and I miss you, and I hope you're enjoying the week doing what you love the most.  But LORD how I wish you'd get back to singing.  Just stand on the stage and burp if you want to, or tell us a joke, and then raise your arm and hit one tiny little high note. That's all we ask.  Something would be better than nothing.

Bye for now.

Love, Rebecca the drugged out groupie.    PS.  I may be volunteering for the Barack Obama campaign, because I'm fed up with the BS that is coming from the Republicans, and I'll fight them to the death if they try to take even ONE of my rights as a female away from me.