Monday, October 23, 2006
      ( 8:43 AM ) Rebecca  
Well. I have not much to say on this grayish about-to-turn sunny morning except, uh, bleh.

OK, OK, that is a terrible attitude to have. Must cheer up. Must appreciate life in all it’s fleeting beauty. Must go back to psychiatrist and get prescription of little pink pills.

I was thinking, this weekend, as I strolled around sunny Portland, trying, and at times, succeeding to feel good, and at other times feeling immensely weighed down by the load of nervous tension that sits constantly on my shoulders these days, about all my various male friends and beaux who inhale the green stuff on a near-constant basis.

Just last weekend, I hung out with a male friend (not a beau) who, in his early fifties, pulled out a pipe several times a day—which shocked me, since the last time I saw this kind of behavior was in mid-twenties males. The men I’ve dated in the last year have smoked three to four times a week on average, if not more. Those of you who’ve read the novel know that Rachel has her most enduring relationship of the book with a charming stoner, who, on their first date, proceeds to get high in front of her.

“Sexy Boy... took the bong from Ganja King, settled back in the beanbag, and inhaled. Deeply. He suddenly looked like the fat, lazy caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland, sitting on his big leaf and sucking on his hookah. Grotesque and lethargic, his eyes half-closed as he inhaled.”

I swing between disapproving and semi-tolerant of pot-smoking as a regular habit but then I also wonder, who am I to disapprove? I drink a glass of wine every night, take Xanax when I fly, Trazadone to help me sleep, and when my demons start to crowd in on me, I get the shrink on speed dial for a hit of Celexa. Is that really any “better” than smoking pot – except for the whole legality question?

We all know what my main dependency is, and that is men in all their stoned glory. But never mind about that. I’m tired of discussing such topics. What you really should know is this, and that is my Hugo House appearance has been postponed until further notice. It will definitely happen in the next couple months, but it’s not happening tonight. So stay tuned for info on that.

Oh, and if you are just dying to have me sign copies of your book and can’t wait for the international tour, I do have bookplates I can sign and send you! Simply email me with your address and I will sign it for you with my illegible signature and have one of my army of assistants, paid for by the gobs of royalties that are pouring in, stuff it in an envelope and mail it your way.

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This blog was the inspiration for my novel. It helped me get through a horrible breakup and kept me entertained for years. But all good things must come to an end. I will recycle oldies but goodies from the archives here, but will blog about about writing here, and about all kinds of other stuff here.

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