Pristique and Melatonin

A funny thing happened on my way to bed. Lately, I’ve discovered that when I take melatonin I have really trippy dreams. I’d taken it before and never experienced the excellent effects. I think the dreams happen because of the new happy pill I’m taking, Pristique, coupled with the melatonin. It’s a mind blowing experience…old lady style.

My dreams are out there. I can’t get enough of them.

I remember the mind altering drugs I tried in my late teens. Antiques Road Show would probably advise me that a Rorer Quaalude is worth a thousand bucks these days. I wish I still had one. I’d lovingly preserve it in a shadow box and mount it on the wall. Maybe I’d nestle it next to a tiny square of blotter acid.
So it has come to this. Vitamins and antidepressants. It’s not as glamorous as acid.

[RESPONSIBLE DISCLAIMER HERE] Don’t get me wrong…I don’t think that acid is by ANY means glamorous. It’s a very dangerous substance. STAY AWAY FROM ACID.

Anyway. Drug- taking is so boring when one becomes old. It becomes functional rather than recreational. I know it’s boring just from listening to my friends talk at work. There are more drugs for blood pressure, indigestion, cholesterol, depression, sleeplessness, and constipation than you can shake a stick at. [DISCLAIMER-STUPID EXPRESSION]

Prescriptions are always the main topic of conversation. “What are you taking for your back? How do you like it? Does it interfere with the Flexoril? How does your hubby like his new steroids? Are you sleeping better yet? Which drug did you get to replace the Lunesta? Do you eat cheese in your sleep with the new one? How’s your regularity these days? Is the irritable bowel medicine working? What are YOU taking for YOUR depression? Can YOU still have an orgasm on YOUR meds? Blah blah blah.

But I must say I like a good mind alter from time to time and I think I’ve found the perfect combo.

I had a dream that I was with a bunch of people I didn’t know and it was evening somewhere. It felt like one of those old LA neighborhoods with the little cottage houses…like where Marilyn Monroe was living when she died. They were pastel-colored stucco with red tiled sidewalks running between them. I had the feeling we were cottage- hopping from one kitchenette to the next. I was wearing a bathrobe. For some reason I was with Lee Marvin, (Of Cat Ballou fame), who was also wearing a bathrobe, but his was quilted satin. We were drunk. A bunch of us had fancy little cocktails. We were sitting around a Formica and chrome kitchen table at one point. There were mason jars of hibiscus down the middle, as well as Chianti bottles with candles burning, dripping down the sides. For some reason I expressed the opinion that I didn’t trust Scientologists. Lee Marvin looked at me and told me he was a Scientologist. Everyone got up to wander to the next cottage and he took me right there on the table.     It was wonderful.     I had the sense I was very hot in this dream.

Another time I found myself in a large auditorium that reminded me of the one in my elementary school with a basketball court floor, only bigger. It morphed occasionally into a factory that was also my office, and then it changed into the New Orleans convention center during Katrina. At one point I was helping my boss sort manila folders on a Herman platform lift over-looking all the people who were milling about or sleeping on folding chairs. She lamented that she forgot to wear a bra and didn’t want anyone to see her. Then suddenly I was down on the main floor with someone else and I was watching this old guy I used to date. He was trying to break dance to impress a much-younger woman but he was getting tangled in his baggy blue jeans. So he pulled them way up around his chest and pulled his belt tight. I went over and told him that he was SUPPOSED to wear the pants under his butt and he should figure out how to move in them that way. I told him break dancing was out and advised him to find a good hip-hop instructor. I also reminded him that he was too old for such crap and was making a huge fool of himself in front of throngs of people.     It was
great.          I had the sense that I was very hot in this dream.


Just recently I had a daytime dream experience because it was Saturday and it seemed like a good time to drop some Pristique and melatonin. My tabby, Lester, went along on this adventure with me but he didn’t take the drugs. Cats are trippy naturally. They’re high on life. I dozed off then opened my eyes. I was in my room. I got up and went in to the bathroom. I could see that a man was outside painting the house. I swept the floor. I wrote a novel. I woke up and realized I was still in bed. Lester stretched. I dozed off. I woke up and got up. I walked into my living room and there was no furniture, but it was ok. I looked out the front window and a man was putting up new gutters. The stray cat from outside was inside and she was giggling. I woke up and realized I was still in bed. Lester stretched. I actually tried to move but I was paralyzed. I heard the cat giggling in the next room. I got up. I went in to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. My hair was slicked back and I was very attractive and thin. I woke up. Lester stretched.
You get the idea.

I have friends who tell me I’m sleeping my life away. They say it as if it’s a BAD thing.

I can travel. I can be young. I can sleep with movie stars. I can tell people off. I can fly. I can be rich and famous. It’s an old lady trip and I’m enjoying the ride.

Nitey-nite.