Thursday, January 05, 2006

Just because I'm gonna have zen doesn't mean I can't be derisive of your ass.

Total: four dollars!
shut up. You've got your therapy, I've got mine. There're worse motivators in Los Angeles, trust me.

Speaking of which, I'd like to once again take a moment & appreciate the fact that I live in a city where there's billboards for clinics that offer Detoxification Under Anesthesia.

There are bagels on the bookcase across the aisle from me right now, motherfucker. They've been there all day. BAGELS. With cream cheese. And people keep making the Happy Food Noises when they take them for themselves. But no no! I will be strong and resist the siren song of the Carb Gods. ::sob!::

With that in mind, perhaps my audience will be able to understand that as the girl who would presently club a baby seal for the broccoli cheese soup bread bowl from Corner Bakery, I find that to be an unfair advantage if someone else gets to sleep through their DTs.

But no, seriously, let's think about this - not only is it sad that are addicts in this town so spoiled & lazy that Detox Under Happy Gas is socially accepted as a non-extreme method of cracking your drug addiction but the truly sad part is the fact that there are so many of them that this is actually a competitive industry. Seriously. "I'll put you under for less than the guy in Culver City!"

I remember one of my managers from when I worked at Snap in the Snove (Not a real name, but if you're an LA resident you can figure it out) was talking about the fact that her kids grew up in Bev. Hills amongst & with the children of the Rich, Famous, & Ridiculous. And that the way most kids got first cars, it was commonly accepted that by the time these kids had graduated high school, they'd already been through rehab at least once. How pathetic is that? All three of M's kids had all been through rehab for one drug or another at some point by the time they were 20. All three.

In truth, I think one of the things that startled me most when I came out to CA was the opennes of drug use - esp. marijuana. Where I'm from, sure people go for it now & then, but it's not an everyday activity, and honestly, you sort of grow out of it, so to speak - at the least you try to be a little...subtle about it. Here, having a joint is as common as having a drink, and no matter how long I'm out here, I'm still a little taken aback by that.
The fact that when I worked at Spiffy!Hotel, the guys would regularly invite me to go smoke a bowl on my break, or that every so often people would try to tip the valet with a small bag of white powder - the acceptance of it still makes my brain hurt. And maybe that's just me & my puritanical attitude towards it all, but I don't think I'll ever get used to that. I mean, I'm certainly not going to stand there & go all AfterSchool Special on their ass ("Hey man, drug use is wrong - you wanna come to church with me instead?"), the most you'll outwardly see is maybe a Raised Eyebrow of Derision, but in my brain is still that voice that goes, "The... fuck?" Because these people? Are just not. even. pretending.

Anyway, I didn't set out to start to write my views on drug addiction in LA. Because the point of why I was upset in the first place is that somewhere, some vapid spoiled bitch whose car I no doubt parked one night after her stupidly rich boyfriend paid the $28 parking fee at Spiffy!Hotel is now sleeping the happy dreamy nap of a the gassed. Why? Because she can't deal with the fact that the crap she snorted up her nose for fun which caused her to barf along the side of her Jaguar as her boyfriend took her coked-out ass home would now also cause withdrawl symptoms including the shakes, and screaming, crying, and possibly more vomiting over the time it takes her to get through the DTs, so she's got some nice facility to put her under because gods forbid she ever looks ugly.

Or maybe I'm just more bitter about the fact that if she can afford that, she can probably also afford lyposuction, so she gets to eat bread. Toss up, really.

I know Megdalen - I really need to write that book about valeting. I'll get to it...


At 5:54 PM, Blogger Megdalen said...

UnbeLIEVABLE! The drug thing, I mean. I would fall into the high end of the naive scale, I know, but drugs=BAD and it is very, very pathetic that it's all so recreational. My favorite marajuana story is when my mom first started chemo, and came back from Church (St. Jude's) all aglow with the news: "You won't believe how many people offered me THE HERB today!" she boasted. "I won't name names, but oh my goodness! I bet I'll get even more offers when I go to Town Meeting." It was too funny.

At 9:22 PM, Blogger claris said...

dude, no shit, right? Special K is from Massachusetts, & she was talking about the fact that when she moved to venice it's even worse than my neighborhood. It's like, dude could you be a little subtle?

Besides, I'm sorry - pot...pot is like, what you find a couple of guys smoking when you go to a keg party in the woods during college...other than that...grow the fuck up!


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