“Not so deep as a well, nor wide as a church door, but tis enough, twil serve.”

First of all, we’re not breaking the law, for those of y’all not familiar with California statutes. Not only can you buy hard liquor in the grocery store on any day and at any hour out here, you can also find a Medical Marijuana Dispensary every half mile most places, and every tenth of a mile in the Armenian colony of Glendale. Sick people need their medication!

If anybody deserves a medical marijuana prescription card, lawd knows it’s me. I spent the first 31 years of my thinking I was just “nervous,” feeling the gunshot wounds of migraines drizzling down my face, throwing up all the time, and feeling the quickening of my heart from 100 to 200 beats per minute while I sat still in a chair, because I’ve “always been a nervous person.” Terror taxied to me like tornados to trailer parks, sometimes leaving me in despondent and isolating wreckage for several weeks.

I have already said too much about this subject, one I do not to like to recall or discuss. It took me more than a year before I could even say sentences such as these out loud, and I do not like to dwell on it. I will not be another woman who talks about these things and how she recovered from them and give you hope on how you can too. Other people in this world have things a million times worse than this; this is nothing.

People do need their medication, though, especially ladies going through chemo. Faces emaciated and twisted with the pain of chemo and radiation pressed themselves into the window of my childhood along with beautiful memories of open fields, apple orchards, and well meaning, flawed, and loving people surrounding me. If I can help relieve on tenth of that pain, I will do it. There is no love lost between me and prescription drugs, and I heartily believe in natural cures.

Of course some ladies would never smoke a bowl. I understand that. I likewise find it unladylike to purchase marijuana myself, and have never done so in my life. It just appears for me, like fresh produce always appeared at Aint Veenie’s house. It just comes to me when I need it. Now is one such time.

Clearly the Lawd (Universe) wants me to be back here in Playa Larga now. New York could not be less hospitable or ruder to me. The need for me to return here could not be more urgent. People on both coasts summon me to help with this need, given the profundity of my knowledge of all natural, trans-fat free emulsifiers, my compassion for this cause, and my comfort food cooking acumen as noted by the New York and the Los Angeles Times, and various other regional, national, and international publications.

And so I take up the task of finding the perfect all natural mold inhibitor, both for the resurrection of my chocolate company, Empire State Chocolate, as well as my up and coming line of Pain-relieving Comfort Food, “Herbitage not Hate.”

I test each batch myself to ensure quality and maximum pain relief. People with respiratory issues or a social inhibition need a way to receive pan relief without smoking it. The pain relief vehicle should also taste delicious and deliver a dosage appropriate to each patient’s needs.

Obviously, I can only work on this mission and research after March goes to work, which further delays it. Yet another reason she needs to leave sooner rather than later. Oh lawd, how I wish she would leave without me having to pay $1000 for a lawyer to evict her. I pray for this miracle, trusting it is already coming to pass.