#but probably a larger proportion than anyone else who makes these kinds of lists does

[sabakos]

By a strange series of events, you are put in charge of a university's gen Ed "philosophy" program; what reading do you assign?

So the responsible thing to do here would be to make a well-balanced list of books that covers the "History of Ideas" in the West from Homer to Heidegger. But that's a well-travelled path and I'm assuming that this strange series of events does not presume any sort of responsibility on my part.

So instead, I'm taking the opportunity to recruit a bunch of unwitting "Great Books" undergrads to revive a philosophical movement that died out in the 6th century when Justinian effectively banned it.

Year 1

In the first year, students will develop a mastery of the ancient greek language, with a focus on texts that cover broad topics that do not require much prior knowledge or background, using Simplicius' commentaries as textbooks that can provide any needed context.

Semester 1

Language

Hansen and Quinn - Greek: An Intensive Course

Liddell, Scott, and Jones - A Greek-English Lexicon

Xenophon - Anabasis, Hellenica, Cyropaedeia, Memorabilia

Herodotus - Histories

An Introduction to Logic

Porphyry - Isagoge

Aristotle - Categories, On Interpretation

Simplicius - Commentary on Aristotle's Categories

An Introduction to Ethics

Pythagoras - Golden Verses

Hierocles - Commentary on the Golden Verses

Epictetus - Enchiridion

Simplicius - Commentary on the Enchiridion of Epictetus

Semester 2

Language

Georg Autenreith - A Homeric Dictionary

Homer - Odyssey, Iliad

An Introduction to Platonism

Theon of Alexandria - Mathematics Useful for the Reading of Plato

Anonymous Prolegomena to Platonic Philosophy

Plato - Alcibiades I, Gorgias, Phaedo

Porphyry - Sententiae

An Introduction to Physics

Aristotle - Physics, On the Heavens

Simplicius - Commentary on Physics, Commentary on the Heavens

Year 2

In the second year, students will translate the major works of Euripides and Aristophanes and work their way through the majority of the Iamblichean curriculum. Readings may be supplemented by Plotinus' Enneads where relevant as time permits.

Semester 1

Language

Hesiod - Works and Days, Theogony

Homeric Hymns to Demeter, Apollo, Aphrodite, Hermes

Euripides - Alcestis, Medea, Hippolytus, Andromache, Hecuba

Aristophanes - The Acharnians, The Knights, The Clouds, The Wasps, Peace

Platonic Logic

Heraclitus - Fragments

Anonymous Commentary on the Theaetetus

Parmenides - The Way of Truth

Plato - Cratylus, Theatetus, Sophist, Statesman

An Introduction to Theology

Damascius - On First Principles

Aristotle - Metaphysics

Alexander - Commentary on Aristotle's Metaphysics

Syrianus - Commentary on Aristotle's Metaphysics

Semester 2

Language

Pindar - Odes

Euripides - Trojan Women, Phoenician Women, Orestes, The Bacchae

Aristophanes - Thesmophoriazusae, Lysistrata, The Birds, The Frogs

Menander - Dyskolos

Platonic Ethics

Plato - Philebus, Symposium, Phaedrus

Damascius - Lectures on the Philebus

Introduction to Pythagoreanism

Iamblichus - On Pythagoreanism

Nicomachus - Introduction to Arithmetic

Sallustius - On the Nature of the World and the Cosmos

Year 3

The third year focuses on the "Perfect" Dialogues - each semester consists of a single course focusing on a single major Platonic dialogue. Students will work their way through the Proclean commentaries on each and write their own commentary on the Parmenides.

Semester 1

Plato's Timaeus

Plutarch - On the Generation of the World-Soul in the Timaeus

Alcinous - Handbook of Platonism

Proclus - Elements of Physics

Plato - Timaeus

Anonymous - Timaeus of Locri

Proclus - Commentary on Timaeus

Semester 2

Plato's Parmenides

Proclus - Elements of Theology

Plato - Parmenides

Proclus - Commentary on Parmenides

Proclus - Platonic Theology

Year 4

Students will learn the basics of allegorical interpretation from Porphyry, Philo, and Cornutus, and then apply this knowledge to the plays of Aeschylus and Sophocles, using Proclus' Hymns, and work on the Republic as a model. This year also provides a brief background into the historical practice of theurgy.

Semester 1

Introduction to Allegorical Commentary

Porphyry - On the Cave of the Nymphs, Homeric Questions

Philo of Alexandria - Questions and Answers on Genesis

Cornutus - Compendium of Greek Theology

Introduction to Theurgy

Plutarch - On Isis and Osiris

Hermes Trismegistus - The Perfect Discourse, The Pupil of the Cosmos

Porphyry - Letter to Anebo

Iamblichus - On the Mysteries

Julian - Hymn to the Mother of the Gods

Semester 2

Political Philosophy

Plato - Republic

Proclus - Commentary on the Republic

Drama, Theurgy, and Allegory

Proclus - Hymns

Orphic Hymns

Aeschylus - Oresteia, Persians, Seven Against Thebes, Suppliants

Sophocles - Ajax, Antigone, Oedipus Rex, Philoctetes

[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

Gift Fic!!

A very happy birthday to my dear @vkelleyart !! A little something to brighten your day and hopefully make you laugh!

I’ve Been Everywhere

Shepard

I don’t think I would have given them a second look if it wasn’t for the wings.

You see a lot of unusual cosplay at Ren Faires. You see a lot of cleavage too, but I’m not going to complain about that.

Some of the cosplay is amateur, homemade, but still in the mood of the whole thing, you know? And some of it is expert level, seriously slick.

Those wings were something else. Those wings were magic.

It’s hard to spot Speakers. They blend in, glamour the obvious, layer on the mundanity, making it nearly impossible to catch even a glimmer of the magic they hold. They go out of their way to do it, to mask the magic.

Not these three. At least not in the usual way.

Granted they looked pretty run-of-the-mill at first sight—a chubby, Middle-eastern looking girl in something like anime cosplay, what with that school uniform look. The tall, dark-haired guy with the Anne Rice, modern vamp vibe. My eyes almost slid over the stocky dude with them–he was just so ordinary looking .

Until those wings popped.

Maybe that should have been my clue. The ordinary. But it didn’t feel like the way Speakers usually mask it.

Because once I took a good look at them, they were practically leaking magic everywhere. Like they failed a Subtlety of Magic class or something. Do they have classes for Speakers? Like schools where they learn to control the magic and filter it, to hide it in plain sight?

I wonder. I’ve never heard about anything like that on the message boards.

These guys would obviously be dropouts, if they actually do have schools like that. They could use a semester of Remedial Magical Skills 101 or whatever they’d call it.

Those wings got my attention. They looked so real, even from a distance. Fluid. Not like the mechanical stuff I’ve seen before. And there was that weird thrum in the air when they popped out.

I mean, I’m not saying I can sense Speakers or anything, but there’s definitely been a change since the whole demon incident. Like I crossed a threshold or something, with magical beings? Like a veil was lifted, maybe.

I can spot them a lot better. Most of the time.

These three though. They didn’t look like much at first glance but they may as well have had SPEAKERS tattooed on their foreheads, the way they were acting. As if I could stay away from that.

I don’t know what was up with all that nonsense they were doing at the Faire. Wands out in the open. Magical words flying. Poorly, at that.

They really must be dropouts or complete dumb-asses or have gone rogue or something. No magicians would ever risk being so blatantly obvious with their magic.

I mean, I’ve followed other Speakers before and I’ve never seen a hint of a wand or heard a whisper of a spell cast out loud. I’ve read up on it—on the web, on the message boards, heard from other people who were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the magic workers doing their thing.

I’ve managed a few words with one or two myself.

But they’re evasive, secretive. They don’t talk about magic, they don’t even admit they’re magic. And they most certainly don’t go around sprouting functional dragon wings, decapitating fellow vampires with funky spells and using wands in public.

I’d be surprised if these three aren’t on some delinquent wanted list.

I trailed them when they left the Faire. For a whole mess of reasons.

They’re intriguing, for one. I’ve always wanted to know more about Speakers. These guys, they’re so out of control, so careless with it. I thought maybe this was finally my chance. My chance to get in with Speakers, find out what I can about them. Research, you know?

They’re nothing like the ones I’ve read about, the ones I’ve sweet-talked into spending a bit of time with me.

A witch-girl who decapitates first, asks questions later.

Berserker fly-boy.

And then that magical vampire. That’s a new one. A vampire with a wand. Who kills other vampires. I’d have said they were some sort of elite, covert, vampire infiltration squad, what with the decapitation and dusting they unleashed a few hours ago on the local Dracula crowd.

If they weren’t so completely inept at the covert part of that equation.

Maybe they’ve got something to do with the Next Blood.

Not that I got a chance to ask. They bugged out of there before I could get close enough to start chatting, introduce myself, get a conversation going.

They probably wouldn’t have given me the time of day, being magicians. Even though I helped that homely Edward Cullen wannabe with his spell. He’d have been dusted if I hadn’t.

I get why he chose to stick with the vampire cosplay. I mean, I can see it. Camouflage yourself in plain sight. It makes sense. Puts people off your trail.

He’s pale. And he’s got a widow’s peak.

But still. The circles under his eyes kind of detract from the look. And that crooked nose. It’s kind of the first thing you notice—it really takes over his face, like he’s all nose. Overly groomed eyebrows, far too heavy with the foundation, and then that honker. Yeah. He’s no Edward Cullen, that’s for sure.

I can’t believe they’re driving right into a Quiet Zone. You’d think they’d know what a bad idea that is. But then again, these three seem mighty clueless for magicians. Or vampires. Or harpy hybrids. Whatever they are.

It was quick thinking by Edward (I’m just going to call him Edward, it’s easier) to act like it was all a show. That might work for run-of-the-mill Normals. But anyone like me—or a demon in disguise, any Maybe really–wouldn’t be fooled.

Not with them spilling magic like that. I’ve never seen anything like it. Spells, magic fire, the dude bro guy literally flying. (I’m going to call him Kevin, it’s easier.)

It was unreal.

I flash the brights. I don’t know how to get these idiots to pull over. If they’re driving right at it, they’ve got no clue what trouble they’re getting themselves into.

I flash the brights again. The Mustang just speeds up.

Mustangs aren’t made for late night drag races on gravel. I try to stay close behind. They come back onto the main road just before the Henge.

Well, that’s it. Just crossed into the Quiet Zone.

I speed up.

The Mustang practically does a donut as it turns into the parking lot. No idea how to drive either. They need more than some friendly advice–they need a handler. Like a chaperone or something.

I pull up in front of them. Cut the engine and the lights. Get out.

“Hi.”

They don’t trust me but at least they let me get them out of that mess with Jeff Arnold. Never a good idea to cross Jeff or any of his posse.

And I was right about this crew. They are careless. The girl–Penny–she just magicked her way in here, into this hotel room, without a care in the world. Then she cast half a dozen spells on the other two. Simon and Baz. (I’ll have to stop calling them Kevin and Edward in my head.)

Spell after spell, to try to get the skunk funk off. It’s not as bad as it was, I’ll say that. Not as good as it would have been if we’d had tomato soup, but I doubt there’s a spell for bringing bathtubs of soup into existence.

She just cast them all in front of me, like I didn’t even exist. I expect they’re going to try something on me. I wouldn’t put it past them. They’re not masking their distrust, I can tell you that. Not the first time I’ve dealt with that and I’m sure not the last. I’m used to it by now.

These three don’t seem to be following any set playbook, just reacting to situations as they come up. I suppose you could call it resourceful and bold, but that doesn’t fly with the local Maybes or the resident Speakers.

Not the way it’s supposed to be done. There’ll be a reckoning if they don’t watch out.

That’s where I come in, if I can smooth talk them well enough to get past their defenses. Penny’s fierce, I’ll give her that. Put a proverbial knife to my throat while I was driving the getaway car. I don’t know if that’s sheer bravado or stupid desperation. Probably both.

I should be able to bring her around. If she ever lets me get to talking, that is.

They all look like hell. Grubby, exhausted, the faint aroma of skunk still clinging to them.

I’m right about Baz though. He’s a vampire, no question. Took a chestful of shotgun pellets and lived to tell. I don’t know if lived is necessarily the right word.

Survived might be more accurate. I know people call them the undead but I didn’t really believe it until I got up close and personal with this guy. Scrawnier than the Twilight vamps and a lot less sparkly, for one. Almost as fast though, when he was running alongside the truck.

But there’s a weird innocence to him. I don’t know if that’s the right word.

I mean, he’s fierce too. Cold as ice, grimly menacing. Certainly not afraid to play with fire, which seems a bit risky to me, considering.

No qualms about incinerating his own kind, that’s for sure.

I’ve seen vampires before, from a distance. Like the ones at the Faire. They’re pale and arrogant, powerful and vicious.

None of them ever looked quite this lost.

He and Penny collapsed on the bed by the window almost as soon as we got in the room. I hadn’t pegged them as a pair, but it works, I guess, if you squint.

Opposites attract, so they say.

And they are opposites, at least in looks. He’s tall and lanky, pale as the moon, all sharp edges. She’s short and round, warm brown skin, warm brown eyes. At least they’re warm when she’s looking at the two of them. They’re blazing and accusatory when they’re on me, that’s for sure.

Still, they’re nice eyes.

Edward’s—I mean Baz’s—nose is even more noticeable up close. It’s like they fitted him with the wrong size? Like it was made for a much larger person. Someone with a broader face. And it’s too high, like it needs to be shoved down a half inch. That’d probably make the proportions even worse, what with that wide mouth of his.

Was his mouth always that way, I wonder? Or did it get bigger because of the fangs?

I have so many questions.

Doesn’t look like I’m getting any answers tonight. Penny and Baz fall asleep in minutes, not even bothering to get under the covers.

So it’s just me and Winged Victory over here. He’s got his back to the door, like some threatening sphinx guarding the exit.

The sphinx I ran into last March was far more attractive.

I can’t tell if Simon’s got freckles in his acne scars or scars on his freckles. In any event he’s got literal craters on his face. And so many freckles. Big ones, small ones, clusters of them.

It’s like some pint-sized Jackson Pollock shook a paint-laden brush at him. Repeatedly.

I don’t know what to make of him. He was like some Biblical avenging angel, wielding cosplay swords like they were the real thing this afternoon. Staking vampires like it’s his literal job.

I don’t know. Maybe it is.

Simon’s got a scar that runs down across his left eyebrow. Splits it in two, with a little bare patch in the middle. His arms are crossed over his chest at the moment. He’s got scars all over them too--wide, silvery scars. Thin pale ones. Puckered gouges that look like they were left by claws.

He’s glaring at me, but I’m used to that from Maybes. At least until they get to know me.

I just smile back.

read it at ao3

[biophytopharm]

Principal Chinese Herb Types

Principal Chinese Herb Types

Anyone who has walked into a Chinese herbal shop and experienced the aromas, and the impressive number of herbs available, can tell you the depth of knowledge and the tradition of medicinal herbs is unparalleled in Western culture. Gaining popularity In modern times Chinese herbal medicine has been an increasingly interesting area of study for contemporary scientific investigators. The surge in popularity in Holistic approaches to health and lifestyle has put Chinese herbal practice into the middle of our new look at what it means to get and stay healthy. The literally thousands of years of experience, organization, and observation of the positive effects of herbs, herb essential oils, and other herbal combinations offers an intriguing alternative to today’s health-conscious individual. Holistic health It should always be remembered that Chinese medicinal herbology does not exist in a vacuum. That is, there are no herbs that by themselves, will make you thinner or cure any digestive problem, or miraculously increase your basic energy level. Chinese herbs and their use are but one part of a philosophy of life that includes diet, lifestyle, and spiritual well being. The use of herbal preparations and remedies must always be considered as part of this larger picture of a balanced life. One of the basic understandings that Chinese herbal practitioners have discovered is that herbs should be approached not only as occasionally utilized medicines or cures but also as part of a regular well thought out diet. Herbs are thought of as highly concentrated foods, essential to life and a sense of well-being. Many Chinese herbs are used in cooking and are important ingredients in recipes. Popular herbs One of the most well known Chinese herbs now days is Gin Seng – known as an energy enhancer. Ginseng has enjoyed a surge in popularity. You should know, however, that herbalists do not consider Ginseng useful for all people. Again it depends on the whole picture of the person’s lifestyle. Other popular herbs are Ginger preparations, Lotus seed, Fox-nut, Cardomon, and Jujuba – there are entirely too many herbal remedies to list here. A thorough study and good information will help you understand all the potential uses of herbs in your diet and lifestyle. Chinese herbal medicine and supplements are based on the Yin-Yang principle, that is, a world of opposites that must be brought into balance. That’s the word to remember: “balance.” Using Chinese herbs offers you a new way to help center your health on an ancient proven tradition that provides for the health of the complete person. Traditional Chinese Medicine Resources – Distribution Types Far East’s sweet part than the weighty national container, discover denuded plateau, hills in addition to lower mountains, commonly handed out for the Altai, Tianshan, Qilian, Kunlun since Altun mountain/hill steppe sector, for example, lower an area of the Tianshan Mountains, for example, top to bottom factories Spectral everyday use together with the baseband can desert. From inside the management splitting on the western leave outdoor areas, inclusive of Runner Mongolia, Gansu and as well Ningxia near northwest, west and consequently Qinghai, Xinjiang, Altai Hills and also-also the Kunlun Hills, except for inside the high altitude the rest of the elements of Asia’s total staff location in which involves 1 / 5, which usually sweet as Gobi areas with reference to 100 million block kms. Significantly arid desert weather conditions as unwelcoming topsoil salinity encouraged multiple location classes unfavorable plant life program is easy to rare, most often through an involving mega-xerophytic herbal arrangement, a lot xeric sort of trees, merely very often degraded or maybe it leaves behind (and/or maybe reducing offices) with somewhat-bushes maybe minuscule timber. Purely consists of vegetation communities inside of South America, along with Important Parts Of Asia as well as antique Mediterranean Sea parts, predominantly by a few groups of house plants, that Chenopodiaceae Asteraceae is considered to be temperate desert location very specific companies of these two most crucial, gone by Zygophyllaceae, pinto beans organizations in addition sod, tamarisk individuals and their families, Polygonaceae, ephedra Side, Caryophyllaceae, Convolvulaceae, as well as account for big proportion; alternate organizations while using fruit significantly. Vegetation attention premium of the 5 to finally 20%, as pond dunes as 50% plus, generally speaking with 10%. Chenopodiaceae A Great Deal genus along with species of seedlings, represent a selection of wilderness communities, where ever medicinal vegetation is essentially small (suo suo, suo suo whitened), genus Salsola (Salsola bead, woody scoparia cookware), anabasine is really (little Anabasis aphylla), Ceratoides (F. arborescens) and/or halophytes get Kalidium (Kalidium), salicornia (Salicornia), S. salsa definitely is (Suaeda), and as well wasteland house plants Shami, in addition to Zygophyllum (wood Overlord) in addition , Nitraria simply. Leguminosae Caragana remedy posses kids are (Caragana, Caragana young), Oxytropis (Oxytropis thorns), Hedysarum (Hedysarum Mongolia, waste Hedysarum), Glycyrrhiza (licorice, Glycyrrhiza inflate) , and holly now. Polygonaceae medication should be Calligonum spp. Tamaricaceae practice of medicine is probably Tamarix yet Reaumuria then. Division prescription drugs ephedra Ephedra przewalskii, for example. have always been. A Number Of People create Salicaceae Populus euphratica, Elaeagnus angustifolia Elaeagnus varieties of classes.

The bradenton area recognized natural herbs tend to be licorice, ephedra, Ningxia wolfberry, Cistanche, Xinjiang euchroma, precious metal Bupleurum, together with the expectations Xinjiang Codonopsis, Wuqia Fritillaria, Wushi seas buckthorn, mulberry Turpan, Atushi figs, grapes soso, poon holes, chickpeas, or anything else. Cynomorium combined with Elaeagnus angustifolia. And also, you will have with regard to medicinal Gentiana Puhuang, reed, Apocynum, D., ferulic, chinensis child, compacted snow lotus, gentian,? Gather, front, Tribulus terrestris, Hong Qing Lan, Motherwort, Yan Chen, dandelion, artificial leather rod Liu, orange sand mustard, M., skullcap, Inula Britannica, Mongolia almond, puffball, Peganum harmala, Arctium, Cuscuta, Orobanche, fruits, Vaccaria and many others, routinely Perhaps the leave grassland varieties. Exactly How natural herbs operating in Far Eastern wolfberry virtually all conspicuous, through safflower, Ibe mothers, astragalus, licorice and thus magical Bupleurum. And Also unveiled their 20 kinds of currency types, like chrysanthemum, Angelica, Radix, Far Eastern yam, honeysuckle, melon wilt, Sophora japonica, Rehmannia also Peony and so. Growth associated people medicinal drugs, dunkelhrrutige your lawn, almond, soso grapes, coriander, Elaeagnus, A Very Yu Wei, figs, cumin but fennel, or anything else.. Using the Kunlun Mountain Range, Altun different alpine desert, dry, continental temperatures consisting of heavy circulation Lithospermum Xinjiang nope, incorrect Lithospermum, Xinjiang, Codonopsis, Licorice, Hedysarum, seabuckthorn, Rhodiola, Saussurea alpine , hands ginseng, compacted snow lotus, various Yeqing Lan, Nardostachy Chinensis Batal, alpine gentian, Xinjiang Notopterygium, Xinjiang self-reliance actions, online heartbeat rhubarb, Polygonum, alpine clematis, clematis, Gansu also Qinghai, Alpine Aster, Ephedra przewalskii as well as also report on ephedrine, . Healing reptiles in this region scarlet deer, musk deer, flight squirrels, he, wild rear end, as well as geese gazelle, wolves, crazy free, donkeys, livestock, lambs, chickens, hedgehogs, scorpion, horsefly worms, leeches, Organic Green toads, bees. Therapeutic Gypsum, sulfur, mica, Fulong busy, jade, actinolite together with water lower stone backsplashes, calamine, Xuan Jing Shi, Glauber’s sodium, talc, shot goose be in charge of, magnetic field, Daqing salts additionally natural real estate agent. Follow us: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || ).push({}); Read the full article

[betsynagler]

I Want a New Drug, or, The Wrong Four Years To Stop Sniffing Glue

I’ve always had a pretty positive relationship with alcohol. I know this isn’t true of many people, especially women, but in my own life, I really can’t think of any negative experiences that befell me because I drank too much. I always knew that my parents drank but not to excess. They were the kind of people that had a coffee table that opened up into a bar because everyone did in the 70s, but pretty much the only time anyone went in there was to get rum for cooking, or to bring out weird bottles of stuff that nobody really wanted to try but my father had picked up somewhere out of curiosity (like Goldwasser, which exists because…alchemy?). The first time I remember having alcohol was trying egg nog at one of my parents’ New Year’s Eve parties, all of which I have fond memories of as being fine times when lots of adults came over and were more friendly to me than usual (and no, not in an icky way). I had my first buzz at maybe 15, off white sangria at a Spanish restaurant in Newark, also with my parents, and it was very pleasant. I started drinking with friends not that long after, thanks to a liquor store, also in Newark, that sold to minors with fake IDs that every teenager in the suburbs knew about. As is typical with privileged suburban kids taking advantage of urban blight, nothing bad ever happened to any of us, except maybe for the time the friend buying the alcohol for a party got arrested for having too much alcohol in a vehicle, which apparently is against the law in New Jersey, probably to prevent exactly what we were doing — but even that just turned into a good story. There was also the time I had a small party at my house while my parents were away, and some things got broken — a bean bag chair (someone rode it down the stairs), the screen door (probably by the same someone, though I don’t know how). My brother even told my parents about the party, but again, it just turned into a funny story for them to tell my relatives at Thanksgiving, because they knew I was a responsible kid. The first time I got drunk at college resulted in my first hangover, thanks to the Everclear-laced “jungle juice” served at the Theta Xi fraternity, but thereafter, I was careful about tasty punches, and didn’t have another hangover for three years (until the quarter I spent at Oxford my junior year, and that was because England + Stanford students = mixing Kahlua with, like, everything). My first time throwing up from drinking wasn’t until my 30s. It took me until then to realize that three martinis was too many, but again, I learned my lesson, and have only been sick from drinking one time since — so that’s twice ever.

Things changed a bit some time in my 30s, when I started to have stomach issues. I actually wrote something about this years ago when I felt like I was doing better. It does that, my stomach, goes through periods of being better and worse. I started taking probiotics and that seemed to make things better, and I confirmed that by going off them and discovering that that seemed to make things worse, so now I definitely take probiotics. I also realized, through more totally unscientific experimentation (otherwise known as “eating and drinking”) that acid reflux was a factor. This is why I don’t drink coffee any more, and try to avoid spicy food (which is tough when your favorite cuisines are Indian, Thai, Chinese, Tibetan, Malaysian, Mexican — yes, basically anything spicy), and too much juice, and tomato sauce, and a handful of other things. Oh, and alcohol. However, whereas coffee gives me literally immediate acid reflux which turns into a stomach ache within half an hour, with alcohol, if I’ve been good in other ways, I can usually get away with it here and there without suffering major consequences. It’s only on the third night or so of drinking a couple of glasses of wine that it becomes apparent that something is very very bad and I need to stop. How can I tell? Oh, something about the combination of a burning sensation in my throat, tightness in my chest, the taste of acid in my mouth in the morning, the need to clear my throat incessantly, and a somewhat diminished appetite from just feeling kind of gross — all of which one can easily ignore if you like drinking as much as I do.

Because here’s the thing: thanks to a combination of genetics, common sense, and control issues, a fairly small amount of alcohol has always really been enough to make me happy. Having a couple of drinks removes my inhibitions and anxiety just enough that I feel like a more outgoing, more carefree version of myself, who can dance. I’m really, at heart, an awkward, shy person, something of an introvert, which means I’m basically much more comfortable in all social situations after one to two drinks. I can’t be sure that I’m truly wittier and more fun at that point, but I certainly feel like I am, and that makes a huge difference in helping me get to being that person. Going beyond that, however, to where I’m aware of the fact that I’m not in control — slurring my speech, walking in a wavy line, saying embarrassing things — I do not like, at all. I find it hard to relate to people who get black-out drunk, or who make serious mistakes that they wouldn’t make when they were sober, because I’m too self-conscious to be unaware that I’m losing my grip en route to getting there. Even in cases where I had sex with people after drinking that I later regretted, I had already made the decision to have the sex before I started drinking; it was just part of the follow-through. Sadly, that’s how I roll. I think too much, and while drinking makes me think less, even well-lubricated I am still way too aware of how people are reacting to me, and that is a major buzz kill. So I’d just rather not get to the point where I’m doing stuff that makes me feel stupid — walking funny, slurring my speech, laughing too loud — and that’s pretty much what happens at drink #3/4 in the course of one evening. Basically, something has to be really, really wrong for me to get to that place.

So of course, the only time in recent memory that I got that drunk was on election night. I had bourbon. I never drink bourbon. I had two — after a martini, and before a final glass of wine. That was over about five hours, mind you (although the bartender got more and more generous as he realized that we were all doomed), and still I stumbled home, already feeling ill, from the bar where I’d been watching the returns come in, got no sleep — that’s another thing that happens when I drink that I could easily ignore when I was younger: it really messes up my sleep — and had to go to work the next day at the unfairly early hour of 10 am. Luckily, the job was easy and my boss was sympathetic (we were all fucking freaking out if you recall), but that day and the several after that was reminder that I really, really, cannot do that any more.

But when the world is going to shit, it’s really, really hard to stop drinking. I get home from work after a long day, during which I do something which can be somewhat stressful for work and spend my downtime on set on Facebook or Twitter or reading the news, or talking to people about the news and Facebook and Twitter, and I want a drink. Just one glass of wine, that’s all. Nope, now, I can’t do that regularly, my stomach isn’t having it. If I’ve had a few glasses of wine over the weekend, there has to be a cooling down period of at least a few days, preferably longer, or else the irritation keeps building. As a result, I now have to prioritize my drinking. Like, when do I really need to have a drink and when do I not? “What’s that look like?” you may ask. Here’s the list I’ve come up with, in order of priority:

1) Networking events.

2) When I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep because I’m freaking out over the state of the world.

3) When it’s late and I can’t sleep because I’ve been spending too much time looking at Facebook/Twitter/NY Times app freaking out over the state of the world, and I have to get up the next day.

4) Family get-togethers.

5) Parties.

6) Tapas bars.

7) When it’s late and I’ve been spending too much time on Facebook/Twitter and I don’t have to get up the next day, but I’d still like to be functional in the morning.

8) Just for fun at a restaurant or bar.

Note that “Just for fun” has fallen to the bottom of the list. Now, you might ask, “Aren’t parties also ‘Just for fun,’?” and the answer would be “Yes, mostly,” but they rank higher on the scale of alcohol necessity because they generally involve socializing with larger groups of people, many of whom I may not have met before, barely know, and/or wouldn’t normally hang out with, so let’s just say that when it comes to parties, the amount of alcohol tends to be more directly proportional to the amount of fun had (introverts, back me up here, I know you know what I’m talking about). And tapas bars also rank above “Just for fun” even though, again, they are fun, because I went to Spain two years ago and seriously, what’s the point of a tapas bar without wine? Anyway, my point is: this list is sad. Living in NYC, nearly my entire social life in my 20s and 30s took place in bars, and now, my drinking priorities are first and foremost about not so much enjoying myself as about getting by.

I realized, given the current state of things — did I mention that I’m also on an email list called, “What The Fuck Just Happened Today”? — that I needed to find another way to take the edge off, and since I wasn't actually going to start sniffing glue, I decided to give marijuana a try as a replacement. My experiences with pot have also been fairly positive, but not nearly as frequent. I've probably been stoned a grand total of less than 20 times in my entire life, and this despite the fact that my relationship to weed also began at a youthful age. My parents smoked pot, but that was more of a deterrent than anything else: nothing reduces the cool quotient of drugs as a teenager like having your parents do them. Nevertheless, it would have been kind of hard to avoid at my high school, which had a reputation for stoners, and lots of people in my peer group seemed to have ready access to it. I had to try weed several times before I actually got high, though, perhaps since I never smoked cigarettes, so the whole breathing smoke into your lungs thing was kind of alien to me. My friend’s (possibly underage and who eventually came out of the closet. Yep: suburbia) boyfriend at the time had to make it his mission to get me stoned one night, using a gravity bong — basically one half of an emptied liter bottle, with a bowl made out of the cap enhanced with aluminum foil, half submerged in a bucket of water. When you light the bowl at the top, you lift the bottle up in the water, and the suction draws the smoke out and fills the plastic half-liter with it. Then you take the cap off, put your mouth over the top of the bottle, and push down on it as you breathe in, which forces a lot of pot smoke into your lungs. Who says physics can’t be fun? So that worked, and all of my friends who were there that night enjoyed watching me be stoned, which still didn't decrease the fun of it, because they were all stoned too. Ever since, I’ve generally had fun getting high, and in a variety of situations — hanging with friends, parties with new acquaintances, crew colleagues on shoots out of town. One of the nice things about having it be a more unusual occurrence than drinking for me is that the unique experiences are more distinct in my memory. The one time I remember having a bad time was when I took medical marijuana with an ex-boyfriend toward the end of our relationship. The two things I was sure of, even though I was high, were that 1) he wasn’t, and 2) our relationship was doomed — which it was, but that just wasn’t the evening I was looking for at the time.

So it was a complete surprise to me that when I decided to try marijuana again recently, I had what can only be described as a terrible trip. I used some medical marijuana chocolate in what I thought was the proper dosage of only a quarter of a square, though considering the way chocolate fragments unevenly, and that I ate all of the fragments, it was probably more. We were watching TV, so I didn’t notice it coming on until I got up to get a glass of water, and realized that time had stopped. I was fully prepared to go back to watching TV, but soon I discovered that that wasn’t working out at all. I couldn’t follow anything — even The Big Bang Theory was unfathomable — and on top of that, I kept worrying about the fact that I couldn’t follow The Big Bang Theory. Could Damon tell that I couldn’t keep up with the show? Was I suddenly stupid? Would I get to the end of the episode, not knowing what had happened…and then what? Damon wasn’t going to want to watch it again! Moreover, did this mean that I was now an idiot? Would I never be able to follow any TV show, ever? Eventually we gave up on that show and tried watching Clueless, thinking it would be easier to follow since I have probably seen it half a dozen times, but no. I still couldn’t follow the plot, which upset me because it was fucking Clueless, and yet despite that, I was inordinately caught up in it on an emotional level. People seemed to be so mean to each other, or poking fun at situations and people that were not funny. How could Cher and Dionne trick Mr. Hall and Ms. Geist for the sake of improving their grades, and then ruins things between Tai and Travis before they even get started?! This was clearly fucked up. What was wrong with me that I saw this was wrong but everyone else watching clearly thought it was funny? What was wrong with them? What the hell was wrong with the world?! And even while all of this was stressing me out, I couldn’t stop watching TV because I was afraid of what would happen if I got up. I was also afraid to drink wine and I was afraid to go to sleep, but eventually I did both of those things, one leading to the other I suppose. The worst part of all, though, was that I woke up the next day no longer stoned, and thinking it was all over — but it wasn’t. When I left the house and had to deal with the outside world, I was second-guessing myself on absolutely everything. Was I driving stupidly? Was I doing everything wrong at pilates, and was anyone watching? Was I making dumb shopping decisions at the Co-op? Was I now permanently going to be making dumb decisions, or just worry that I was all the time? Was my brain now broken? Didn’t you hear stories about that happening to people? — for probably another eight to ten hours. The only thing that somehow did not provoke my anxiety hangover was coming home and playing Plants vs. Zombies 2 over and over again, despite repeated losses accompanied by the message “THE ZOMBIES ATE YOUR BRAINS!” (Plants vs. Zombies 2, so utterly mindless yet completely absorbing, has actually helped me a lot since the election.) Finally, at a certain point, I felt like myself again, as well as a person who might someday be able to have contact with others.

The sad thing is that I think the bad trip was just me unfiltered and magnified. I have, of course, developed coping skills since adolescence – yes, aside from alcohol, and Prozac – to tamp all down the over-thinking, the self-consciousness, and the anxiety that goes with them to a manageable level on a daily basis. At the wise old age of 48, these are things that I know that I do and I am able to distract myself from them – Hey, look over there! It’s a kiddie ride! When I got stoned this time, I couldn’t look away, and I don’t know why. Yes, I think it’s fairly safe to say that I was more stoned than I’d ever been before, but I don’t know if I can blame the terrible nature of the experience on that. And even though my last medical marijuana episode wasn’t good, it wasn’t anything like this. Which takes me back to maybe my brain really is broken – not from smoking pot, but from not smoking it. The way that all of my experiences with drugs and my body – from alcohol to Pepto Bismol to Robitussen (which, no, I haven’t used recreationally) – have changed over time, it’s not hard for me to believe that in the…wow, eight years since I last got high, my brain chemistry has changed enough that this is how getting stoned is going to be from now on. Combine this with my inability to drink alcohol, eat spicy food, and play any sport with lateral movement (knees), and one could easily conclude that my body is now, saying to me, “You’re 48, you’ve officially had all of the fun you’re entitled to. NO MORE FUN FOR YOU!” Yes, my body has become the Soup Nazi.

All I can do is hope not, or at least hope this current situation doesn’t last. I mean, I know that the stomach situation probably will, and that the Trump situation probably will, but I think that my relationship to depressants will have to change. I will have to learn to just want them rather than need them. Exercise is already a crutch for me, and I don’t really have time to do more of that than I already do. I’ve used sleeping pills for periods of time and I don’t really want to go back there — for a shitty sleeper like me, it’s too easy to get hooked. I’ve tried meditation, and it hasn’t really worked, but I probably need to give it more of a chance. Because now I’ve got four years to get through, on top of the continuing mid-life bullshit, and what else is there?