Marijuana Update, Number 7,567,890 in a series: The Woman Who Knew Too Much

Even though it's Monday, my favorite day of the week, I'm dragging. Even though I've already consulted with the guy who's going to paint our garage apartment, I'm dragging. Even though, I've made some requisite phone calls and taken care of some bills, I'm dragging. Even though I've done a bit of work for My Job, I'm dragging. Even though it's still summer, and I have three children about to begin three different schools, and I'm figuring out who needs what and who needs it when, I'm dragging. I just can't shake the dragging.

Have you ever seen the Hitchcock movie The Man Who Knew Too Much? It's one of my favorites -- probably because it's perfectly weird and creepy, particularly given the peaches and cream casting of Jimmy Stewart and Doris Day. I was always a good girl when I was younger, and even now struggle to be the good girl. If not always do what's right, then at the very least think right. Whenever I go to karaoke parties (ok, I've been to three of them), I always choose to sing that song because it's so perfectly ridiculous. I'm drawn to the perfect pairing of the creepy and the zen.

Listen to the above clip while you read the rest of this post.

Did you see the CNN special of Dr. Sonjay Gupta's last night? It was called Weed and featured the little girl Charlotte whose severe epilepsy has dramatically improved since she started using medical marijuana. I sat sort of frozen throughout the special and only teared up once or twice. My tears were, strangely, not the sorrowful kind but the angry kind. The update for Sophie is that I've been unsuccessful locating the high ratio CBD stuff in California. I'm hooked into a group of people, though, who are on a waiting list to get it when it's available. Let's hope that's soon. Last night's special stated that studies in Israel, done decades ago, showed a strong correlation between high ratio CBD and reduction in epilepsy. The forty some odd children who are taking Charlotte's Web now have ALL shown dramatic reduction in their refractory seizures.

 Frankly, the whole thing gave me agita at the least and existential dread at most.

Don't get me started on why we are only learning about this in 2013. When I imagine what Sophie's life might have been like if she'd had the opportunity to try it back in the 1990s, I feel sick to my stomach.

Que sera sera.

The morning after

The world is changed on the morning after dancing until the late hours the night before. One of my closest friends celebrated her 50th birthday last night by throwing a karaoke party with a 1970s theme. I put on some sparkly blue eye-shadow and wide-legged jeans, carried a pink Goody comb that I have miraculously saved from my childhood, and danced, literally, the night away. There was onion dip and potato chips, green bean and tuna casserole. There were meat-loaf sandwiches and crab dip with Triscuits. There were Leaping Lizard drinks, and I had several. At some point, I broke out clog dancing and later, when we recounted it, I nearly wet my pants laughing. So, it's a beautiful morning and my heart feels so much lighter this morning that I can only attribute it to the dancing and friendship and laughter from last night. I highly recommend a karaoke machine and some music from the glory days to right the world.