Reefer Sanity

Sooo . . . today amongst work, Italian class, the traditional Tuesday family dinner and once and for all mastering the appendices to the thesis, I have to produce a 1000 word article about the politics of the cannabis industry through the centuries. Weeeeeee! It's really superb these opportunities to write for money and for people to look at have come up. At the same time, I catch myself wanting to travel back in time and yell at my 25-year-old self, 'Okay, a master's is a master's, but the subject of your thesis is going to haunt you for awhile!'

And of course my 25 Year Old Self would argue that if we decided to go all bourgeois we could get a job in a law enforcement organisation or that fun thing in Vienna where they talk about drugs all day. I would retort that's not what I bloody meant and I knew it; I should understand writing 150 pages about anything wasn't only going to challenge my interest in it, it was going to put me in a position where I'd probably have to go on being involved with it afterwards, after I had no doubt found the limits of this interest. Therefore, I should choose something as broad as I'd be allowed; maybe parallel market in general. My 25 year old self would have got that fucking half-lidded, dismissive, Calabritchian look, sparked a joint, and pointed out that I seemed PLENTY interested in reefer to stay in the field for awhile.

My 25 year-old self is a dick. She smoked reefer to ignore the world around her, which in all fairness to her was mostly France and the embraces of a madman, but still. If I ever take an anti-reefer stand with my juniors, or anybody for that matter, it will be because it's easy to have the sort of habit that lets you get by nicely while it lets you believe you're too lazy and stupid to change the shitty things in your life. It's far too easy an excuse.

On a somehow related topic, I suppose because I'd smoked some reefer beforehand, I saw the Family Guy movie last night as a reward for finishing my glossary. I found it fucking lame. I loved the original seasons, so the sentiment isn't from a dislike of the Family Guy. This was simply a fucking turkey that was too self-referential even for someone like me, who must have seen all the original seasons twice. In 88 minutes I laughed twice, and what I laughed at wasn't memorable enough for me to recall now. Wow. Did it ever suck. It sucked as bad as Godfather III, in the sense that if I ever see the original episodes again my enjoyment of them will be hurt by having sat through this mess.