Its almost been a full three months since I last posted and yes I have a very good excuse for cutting class:
Its almost been a full three months since I last posted and yes I have a very good excuse for cutting class:
Posted at 09:27 PM in Family | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBack (0)
I began this blog back in March 2007 as an experiment to see if, in fact, a daily dose of Wellbutrin, could help me perform a task consecutively for one year.
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Is that ADHD, Asperger's or Tourette's?
Posted at 03:07 PM in Attention Deficit Disorder | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
Tags: ADHD, Time Management, Wellbutrin
Since a career in politics is not in my near future, I would like to share yet another intimate story starring Marijuana as the protagonist.
One uneventful high school day, my friend Jenny leaned across the aisle in homeroom and in a loud whisper asked, "Hey, do you wanna go somewhere special after school?" Among my high school clique, special meant finding the right pharmacy to shoplift from or locating the key to a liqueur cabinet that belonged to Bethany Brennan's jet-setting parents. What could possibly surpass any five-finger-discount or Sweet Amaretto? A free supply of Mary Jane. Weed. Reefer.
It was a retirement complex for seniors surrounded by large pine trees and shrubs that gave the small apartment the privacy it coveted. Jenny and I would pad lock our getaway wheels against a small tree in front of an unobstructed path, just in case the cops came.
His name was Jersey, a slow-moving, 74-year-old, pot-smoking World War II vet who had a fondness for only the finest Cannabis Sativa money can buy, paired with a couple of rowdy high school girls which Jenny and I happily filled that category.
He called us Goils with his North Jersey-slightly-diluted-Brooklyn accent "Would you Goils like to get high? Are you Goils listening to me!?" he would always shout, his loss of hearing from the early days of World War II Battleships. Jenny and I would yell back 'Yes!' and minutes later Jersey would reappear, slightly hunched over holding a solidly carved, wooden box filled with what Jenny and I coined "the finest grass God had to offer".
We sat in circular fashion around a worn wooden kitchen table in an apartment furbished with 70's decor and hanging spider plants; plants that seems to come to life after we reached our expected state of smoked euphoria. My back was always closest to the kitchen since it was my duty to make the Nescafe Instant coffee, ironically the same coffee my Mother would drink every morning. If only she new I was here. Jersey would pan-fry us Sea Legs while reminiscing of days as a young sailor on the Battleship. "Sea Legs and Instant Coffee, the poifect meal" he would preach to us, a meal we could only stomach when the munchies were called to duty.
Occasionally, Jersey would drop these heavy navy blue photo albums on the table filled with pictures of his WW II paraphernalia and engage us in war tales. Young and ignorant, we would break into contagious fits of laughter not from his stories but from the shadows casted on the walls by the spider plants.
"Look, thats Alfred Hitchcock-no seriously-the profile!" Jenny would point to the shadow above my head.
"That's not Hitchcock", I would counter, "That's-wait. Jersey, I think that's your shadow!" we would burst with uncontrollable laughter.
"You Goils neva listen to me!" he would slam the album shut.
These high late-day luncheons became a secret ritual, riding our bikes there every Wednesday. More Sea Legs. More Shadows. Jersey was lonely and loved our company until he went on a long drinking binge. He wouldn't even have the strength to answer the door. We would just knock and call, "Jersey, its the goils! Can we come in?" And then we'd wait. We'd wait and moments later the door would open. The place would reek of week old liquor and his eyes so glazed over he could barely remember us. We would offer our help. Did he need food? Help dressing? Where's your pot, Jersey? Help cooking? He would tell us his binges would last five to seven days and then he would be back to normal.
One Wednesday, Jersey's daughter answered the door. Who would have thought that Jersey had a daughter. To us, she was just another road block, another authoritative adult; tall, plain, in her thirties and questioned us at the door.
"Why are you here to see my father?" she questioned.
I was scrambling in my head for a good lie. Ugh...ugh... Jenny was more of the honest one answering, "He gets us high. Is he here?"
"No, I came to pick up some of his things," the tall daughter said.
"Is he dead?" Jenny asked. "Shut up!" I elbowed her. "She's just kidding."
"He won't be back for a couple of weeks. He's back in rehab." Door closes.
An hour later, Jenny and I found ourselves still sitting under the same tree we chained our bikes too while contemplating our next move. "That's a shame." "Yep." "Well maybe its the perfect time to stop smoking?" She looks at me like I had grown an extra head. "Well maybe its the perfect time to break in?" Peer pressure won me over.
Dressed like a pair of bank robbers, we showed up the following night. Time was limited since we were "in drama rehearsal" and my mom would be picking us up in front of the high school at nine, we critically mapped out our strategy outside of Jersey's side window. Jenny would take the bedroom and bathroom. I would take the kitchen and den. I being the shorter of the two, was boosted into the window head first onto the kitchen faucet, an unprofessional landing for a wannabe thief. My heart was pounding even though this had been our second break in-the first was at high school senior Kyle McKormicks' house when he and his family traveled to Florida. We just wanted to see the interior of Kyle's bedroom.
Jenny emerged from the bedroom holding the familiar solidly carved, wooden box. My heart was still pounding as we opened the resin-stained box. Nada. No wonder Jersey was in rehab, I thought. Rumor had it, Sally Shillings brother had run out of heroine and had to go to rehab to detox. Would I be next? Still curious and stupid, we rummaged through sock drawers, kitchen cabinets and even a freezer filled with Sea Legs. "Maybe Jersey knew we would break in eventually and created a secret hideout?" Jenny entertained. "Let's keep looking."
"I wanna go home" I said leaving my brother's black knitted cap behind. "Drama rehearsal, remember?"
"You're no fun," Jen added. "Let's go".
After two weeks passed, all is forgotten, we would come back and find the temperamental Jersey at his front door, once again, nodding us in with a stoned smile, pan frying Sea Legs as I mixed the instant coffee and reprimand us like his children when another wave of contagious laughter would consume us in the middle of his story,"...did you ever hear of a place called Poill Harbah....Goilz are you listening to me!?".
Our second year of high late-day luncheons and growing up just enough to realize Jersey's time might be limited, we started listening to his war tales aboard the USS Arkansas. And we wished we had started listening sooner.
Posted at 02:02 PM in Short Stories | Permalink | Comments (5)
Tags: Cannabis, Jersey, Marijuana
A.D.D Symptom: Having the uncontrollable desire to slaps people's children.
Posted at 11:57 AM in Humor | Permalink | Comments (5)
Tags: Kali Karagias, ADD, Brats, Parenthood
I recently read in a literary magazine, "be careful what you blog". Point being? The article stated if you wish to be gainfully employed, you best be careful what you write about yourself. Someone may judge you. Oooooow.
Posted at 11:33 PM in Humor | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)
Tags: To Tell the Truth
When I was in high school, I was most capable of absorbing information when my teacher "taught by example". How very ironic, that I, now in the reversed role of teacher, am counseling you on the benefits of multi-tasking with the help of my fictitious friend here, Barabara:
Posted at 03:12 PM in Attention Deficit Disorder | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0)
Tags: ADD, ADHD, MULTI-TASKING
The conversation thus follows:
Phone rings. Pick up.
Dr H: Dr. H.
Kali: Oh, hey Dr. H. This is Kali. Im sorry I never called you back in August-
Dr. H: How are you, Kali?
Kali: Oh my God, Im great. I mean, life-is great-I mean, even in this economy-you know I went to the market today and they wanted 3.99 for Rice Milk-that's like double-things are really good-my new iPhone sucks-AT&T sucks-I could barely gets a signal-or Id call-I'd get a better signal in Land Of the Lost-I loved that show-but yeah-Im good-Good-
Dr. H: I have today at 4:30. I have Tuesday at 5:00 or Friday at 9. But you've already expressed that you are not a morning person-
Kali: Oh-ah-I wasnt calling for an appointment-It has nothing to do with the economy-I just dont need it-did you get my Christmas card?
Dr. H: Yes, Lovely. See you at 4:30 today?
Kali: Great. See you later.
Click.
Well, I certainly didn't want to spend 130.00 an hour talking about Dan Smith, especially in this economy. If anything, HE owes ME 130.00 for all the free press.
*********
My therapist's couch has the same worn leather as the couch of my old principal's office in high school.
The thought of a high school principal with a couch in his office is perversion at its finest.
I made sure to share that thought with my therapist as soon as I sat in her office.
Kali: (feeling up leather) Same tears. Same cuts.
Kali: Who? Dan Smith?
Dr. H: No, your principal? Who's Dan Smith?
Kali: Of coarse he didn't touch me!
Dr. H: Its evident you feel anger towards him.
Kali: Who? Dan Smith?
Dr. H: No your principal. And his couch.
Kali: I didn't come here to talk about my principal's old couch-
Dr H: Did you come here to talk about Dan Smith?
Kali: No! Well maybe. How do you know Dan Smith?
Dr: H: Who's Dan Smith?
Kali: Obviously you know him because you just mentioned him!
Dr. H: No, you mentioned him-
Kali: I did?
Dr. H: Yes.
Kali: Oh. You really don't know who he is?
Dr H: Should I?
Kali: Well if you've walked as far as three feet in this city, you would know his mug if you saw it.
Dr. H: Is he a criminal?
Kali: No, he's a guitar guru. Apparently as good as they come. He just needs a new hair cut.
Dr. H: So tell me about Dan.
Kali: There's nothing to tell really. He kinda just pisses me off.
Dr. H: Did you date him?
Kali: Hell no!
Dr. H: What is it about this Dan that you dislike?
Kali: This Dan I am. This Dan I am. I will not eat green eggs and ham with Dan I am.
Dr. H: You had brunch with him?
Kali: Are you high? No!
Dr. H: Than why are you talking about green eggs and ham?
Kali: Don't they have Dr. Seuss in Israel? Its the way you said "This Dan". Can we just change the subject because he now owns me around twenty-five bucks-
Dr. H: Dan owes you money?
Kali: From this session-
(Long Pause)
Dr. H: Kali, like all our previous sessions, you confuse me. You come here. You have something you want to say but you beat around the bush and I cant help you if you cannot talk about what is on your mind.
Kali: Did we now just talk about my principals couch, Dan's bad hair and green eggs and ham? Im talking. I wanna tell you about a dream that I had-
Dr. H: About Dan?
Kali: Yes! (pause) How did you know?
Dr. H: Because that's what you came her to talk about but for some reason it bothers you. Please talk about Dan.
Kali: OK, here's my dream. Last night I dreamt that I was driving and I had to pee really bad and I could not hold it. So I pull into this KMart shopping plaza. (beat) What are you writing?
Dr. H: I wrote the word incontinence.
Kali: Well its not like I had to wear an adult diaper or anything!
Dr. H: Just talk about the dream
-u
(silence and then after a long minute)
Kali: my sister and I we'd go to Burger King, go wash the car and then hit this KMart plaza and shoplift. Th e one in my dream. Anyway, so in my dream, I walk past a really long shampoo aisle looking for the public bathrooms. And just as I find this bathroom, I trip on a horse's saddle and instead of finding a bathroom, there are two adjacent bedrooms; a young boys bedroom and Dan Smith's bedroom. In fact, I almost though that it was both Young Dan and Older Dan. So Im wearing lace panties, with this Aersomith logo on the back-kinda like a tattoo that you see those slutty chicks have on their tail bone, and I pull them down and Dan tells me that I have a gray hair down there and rather than be mortified by it in my dream, I am turned on. He's totally eyeballing my pelvis and I can sense it doing to the next level and then my dream cuts to that really cheesy cafe they have with the rotating pretzels and burnt hotdogs and I think that I am hungry but I dare not eat because everything looks stale. Then I woke up.
(more silence from my shrink)
Dr. H: I'm glad you came in today.
Kali: OK...I mean its no bid deal...
Dr. H: How are things at home? Are you still throwing coffee cups?
Kali: Well, I threw one over Christmas break but other than that, no. Not really.
Dr. H: Kali, you may not like what I have to say about your dream. But I want you to listen.
This dream is about desires you refuse to gift yourself. There is a lot of discontentment. Some resentment and a loss of self-identity. Your incontinence symbolizes that there is a part of you that feels like you are not growing. It can also be translated as lacking the ability to control a part of you-your emotions, your anger.
The shampoo symbolizes the need that you must clear out your old ways of thinking, or your need to approach a relationship differently than you have in the past. You tripping over the horse saddle suggests that you have the desire to pursue your goals yet you somehow feel restrained.
The bedroom signifies your private self, your intimate self and the two men, whether they were Dan or not, are really parts of you. A young you and a stray gray hair? Easy. A fear of getting old. An older man pointing out a fault? Perhaps a fear of domination. Dan staring at your pelvis, the pelvis represents the sexual issues in your life. The lace, again, a representation of your sensuality. The Aerosmoth logo? What is Aerosmith?
Kali: A rock band.
Dr. H: And Dan's a guitarist? So we know what that symbolizes. You wanting a pretzel and refusal to buy, shows your preoccupation with some real complex issues in your life- i.e Dan- and you not sure how to handle it. Dan is the forbidden fruit.
(long pause)
Dr. H: Well?
Kali: Did you get my Christmas card this year?
Posted at 11:48 PM in Celebrity | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBack (0)
Tags: ADHD, Dan Smith, hyperfocus, Out of Focus