I just realized that as of tommorrow (5-29-03) I will have been writing in this thing for EXACTLY a year. Note: my first entry (5-29-02) was entitled "Eugene" and it involved going to Eugene, OR to visit Tracita and it also documented the fun we had with hillbilly teeth. After Friday, my next entry will probably be entitled: Eugene Deux: Electric Blanket-or-two. A full year. A full circle. Back in Eugene w/Tracy (dutch-cheese on here) again. In fact, I think that was the last time I saw her (was it?) I'm also speedily approaching my 400 entry mark. Bring out the fucking sparklers, just don't get 'em too close to my head (esp. tonight cuz I gotta do a dye job)...I'll give ya'll another 2 hints about my date: His name starts with a "D" (and its not a typical D name at all) AND he is well-travelled and originally from Southern Ohio (oh wait..that is 3 hints)

Oh, I wanted to include this which is from an anonymous article Carl Sagan wrote on the blissful experience of pot (I'm taking the quote from "The Botany of Desire" by Michael Pollan) Whoa..Pollan. Pollen. What a perfect name for the author of a book that talks alot about pollenization!!! I guess Carl Sagan wrote this article about pot and he was revealed to be the author after his death in 1996. I think the quote is fucking hilarious:

The discussion in the book is about exactly what it means to be "high"...here is Sagan's quote:

"There is a myth about such highs. The user has an illusion of great insight, but it does not survive scrutiny in the morning. I am convinced that this is an error, and that the devastating insights achieved while high are real insights; the main problem is putting these insights in a form acceptable to the quite different self we are when we're down the next day...If I find in the morning a message from myself the night before informing me that there is a world around us which we barely sense, or that we can become onf with the universe, or even that certain politicians are desperately frightening men, I may tend to disbelieve; but whne I'm high I know about this disbelief. And so I have a tape in which I exhort myself to take such remarks seriously. I say 'Listen closely, you son-of-a-bitch of the morning! This stuff is real!'

"

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I guess that quote was from an essay attributed to Mr. X (it was Sagan) and appears in Marihuana Reconsidered (Lester Grinspoon)...GRINSPOON? What a wonderful name that is, (and I'm not even HIGH!)

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Personally, pot has made me giddy and giggly and it has also made me vomit when combined with too much drinking of pivo (I'm gonna use the Czech word for beer as much as possible now), but mostly it's made me extremely paranoid and prone to thinking that my heart is having an attack.

do the jerk * do the frug