Next Time, Listen To Whitney

Frankly, it has been a shitty week for me too, but clearly Health Ledger and Brad Renfro had a worse week than I did. Both actors (as we all know by now, if you don't it's called CNN, I suggest you look into it) died this week, apparently prescription drugs were involved. Oh Dr. Hollywood, when will you learn, perhaps you should STOP giving sleeping pills to every actor that tricker treats at your office.

Have you ever seen one of those commercials in which the voice tells you to "tell your doctor about ambien" or whatever the drug is their pushing. Who the hell are you to TELL your doctor? Did you go to med school? Are you even a dentist or a nurse? Or perhaps a physician's assistant? Probably not. So why, in the world, would you tell your doctor what medicine to give you? Further, any doctor that is dumb enough to listen to the crackheads that come into their office complaining of anxiety and insomnia, deserves the malpractice lawsuit the family is going to smack him upside the head with after the inevitable yet "accidental" overdose from ten different prescription forms of crack.

I mean really, EVERYONE wants sleeping pills, but NO ONE (very very few people) actually need them. Case in point, its 1:46 a.m. and I can't sleep... but am I downing ambien and anxiety meds? No, I'm writing this ridiculous blog so you can read it when you can't sleep (you're welcome). Sleeping pills are HIGHLY addictive, namely because they're good and they knock you out like blunt force trauma to the head. But all the more reason they shouldn't be prescribed to anyone but your weird manic cousin, and maybe Britney Spears.

OK, now that we got that out of the way, let's discuss another genius in this scenario, Heath Ledger's massage therapist. Hmmmm. Let's see. Massage therapist enters room and notices that Ledger is passed out naked, face down, at the foot of the bed, pills scattered all over the place (thank god he didn't have a dog). Proceeds to set up massage table anyway. Tries again to wake Ledger. Notices Ledger is not breathing. Calls Mary-Kate Olsen. Yep. That's for real.

Where does one begin? I really don't want to make jokes because I was a big Ledger fan (how can one not appreciate something so beautiful), but what possessed this woman to call that fur-wearing troll as her client lay dead in front of her is beyond what my brain can comprehend. A five year old would have known to call 9-11, or at least a crack/ambien prescribing drug pushing doctor.

Now, back to the ambien. Apparently, Renfro was busted within the last couple of years on Skid Row in an attempt to score heroin from a narc. Have you ever seen Skid Row? Honestly, it looks like a third-world (pardon the expression) slum. Here you have a pretty successful actor going to the absolute shittiest part of America (personally, I'd take my chances in Compton any day) to score drugs. Why, in god's name, would a doctor give this person anything else that could trigger a new addiction? Seriously, if going to Skid Row to get drugs doesn't define addiction, I don't know what does. Renfro shouldn't have been prescribed anything but volunteer work in the psych ward of a prison to show him where long walks on Skid Row will lead.

So, this week has pretty much sucked for me (for reasons we don't need to get into), Brad, and Heath. But let's turn a negative into a positive, let's learn from past mistakes and not repeat them in the future.

Lesson 1) Doctors should not prescribe crack (or any drug similar to it) to crackheads
Lesson 2) Doctors should not prescribe multiple forms or crack (or any drugs similar to them) to crackheads
Lesson 3) A crackhead is a person that goes to Skid Row to score drugs or a person that calls Mary-Kate Olsen when she finds your body

OK, so in truth, this whole thing where 10 doctors prescribe these people 20 forms of crack just makes me mad. Why? Because they are ruining it for the rest of us, the ones that are really insomniacs, and frankly, I don't think its fair. No one will so much as give me a prescription for Lunesta- which as far as I'm concerned, is bullshit. The only thing worse than an overdoes of 45 different medications, is an overdose on a homemade cocktail with the main ingredient as NyQuil.

On the upscale, I have a good feeling about next week. In the meantime, play with this. It's a blast.

http://www.peta2.com/trollsens/

Fight For Your Right Corey...

Corey Worthington of Melbourne, Australia, threw a party this week. 500 teenagers showed up, and among other acts, vandalized property including neighbors' cars. Apparently, the neighbors were "terrified" (give me a break). 30 Victoria Police, with dogs, showed up at the suburban residence. The Victoria police are considering issuing a $20,000 AD ($18,000 USD) bill to Worthington's parents who were out of town at the time of the incident.

Clearly, the kid made a mistake. But here's why he's awesome (besides the fact that he reminds me of my Australian boyfriend when I was 17). In an interview, on national (Australian) television, Worthington (sans his shirt exposing his nipple ring) is badgered by a reporter who attempts to discipline and lecture the teen. Worthington however, holds his ground, and it rocks. He refuses to apologize, refuses to take his sunglasses off, and when asked if he has a message to give teens who might be thinking about partying when their parents are out of town, he says they should call him and he'll help them throw a kick ass party. When the reporter asks Worthington if he's talked to his parents, he tells her he's been successfully avoiding them. It's gorgeous. In fact, the interview just gets funnier as the reporter gets angrier.

First of all, the reporter is obnoxious and deserves to look like the idiot Worthington makes out of her. Who does she think she is? His parents? The police? Second, Worthington, having clearly taken several bong rips prior to the interview, has a couple valid points. It isn't really his fault the party got so out of hand. The actions the police refer to causing havoc did not occur on his property. And above all else, everyone is talking about how it was the party of the century. I mean, that has to count for something, no?

That's not the point though. The point, is simply that he's hilarious, the reporter's a bitch, and you should watch the clip. Now.

Nobody Likes Being Played

Recently, I have been applying for jobs (puke). Really, it's a nightmare. Every aspect of this endeavor has been unpleasant. This may or may not come as a surprise, but it is quite difficult to find a job that "meshes well" with one's personality, morals, blah blah blah. Yes, it's true, a good job is hard to find.

There was one particular organization that really, and I mean really, wanted me. But despite this company's dedication to recruiting me, something kept me from accepting. Without getting too far off topic, I will just say, that I didn't think that this job was for me. However, because this job was so overwhelmingly intellectually stimulating, I decided I had to give it a try. Contrary to what I suspected, the job turned out to be amazing, and my expectations regarding other areas of stimulation within the organization were beyond satisfied. I decided to sign with the company.

Imagine this, the company withdrew its offer. Really? After such a relentless pursuit? I'm shocked (is anyone else tired of me saying that nothing shocks me.... only to follow up such statements with another piece of "shocking" news, I am). I mean, my curriculum vitae hadn't changed. My grades hadn't dropped (ok...ever so slightly... but for real). Lately I have desperately pondered, spent my nights awake and I wonder, what I could have done in another way... Why did the organization back peddle on me? Did they find a better candidate for the job that was suppose to be mine? Was this the organization's plan from the beginning?

Angry, I called my old boss for advice. Although I hadn't worked for my ex-boss for years, for some reason I thought this was a good idea. I mean, we have remained good friends and are still on good terms. The moment I walked into my old building, I felt reassured. The familiarity of the it, my old co-workers, and my boss were all comforting. Though I was a little taken back when my boss offered me my old job back.

Let me explain. At the time, I really loved everything about this job, and actually thought that I might be happy with it forever. But I was very young, and did not know myself the way I do now. More, I was a completely different person. Nonetheless, I ultimately ended up leaving the organization because of extenuating circumstances that made it impossible for me to continue working there. Soon after that, I got a new job and began a new career and never looked back. Until now, as I sat in my former boss's office, actually considering going back (unemployment will make you do crazy things).

So now what? Truthfully, I have no idea. But evidently Nina's right, reason will not lead to solution. A good surfer chick friend of mine recently asked me what the benefits of going back to work are when one can receive unemployment. Now, I'm not going to get into that because that is an entire separate can of worms. However, I will say, if you don't have a choice in the matter, than you may as well enjoy the time off... otherwise, go back to your old job and see if things have changed (question, not a statement)?? Why aren't I a Hilton heiress?? Why do I feel like I should be eating ice cream and watching Notting Hill?