So, since I'm starting the volunteer thing in the Dr. Zivago lab sometime early next week, I figure I need to start taking my old mind-altering drugs. Well, just one drug, really. I've had ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder) since I was an infant. I remember one story Ma told me where I'd made a staircase out of the drawers of her 6 foot dresser, me creeping up and sliding out one after the other. She caught me right as the whole thing was about to keel over. She'd left out something shiny. I couldn't resist. I didn't always raise hell, though. She could get me to sit or not run around if I eventually had a treat for being good, like a tiger's milk bar or ice cream.

Even so, I was an "eerie silence" type of kid. Most parents get to know this kind of silence really well. Picture this: you're at home doing stuff. You feel good, start putting something away or get something out. Everything seems mellow, peaceful, totally still and quiet. Wait�quiet? Where's- Oh shit. If you had been my mother one of these times when I was 6, you'd have run out to the backyard just in time to stop me and my friend from 'parachuting' off an apple tree with bedsheets. A 15 foot apple tree. I used to jump off two story roofs to pass the time when I was 4. No, I never landed on my head.

Fortunately, I'm older now and the hyperactivity is mostly gone. The inability to focus, on the other hand, is still going strong. Actually it's going Severe, according to a diagnostic test I took. My family thinks that my being absent-minded is cute and my friends don't mind. Dr. Ysfurgurbit over at Dr. Collicasterinas's lab in Bosstown, though, wasn't nearly as pleasant about it. Ever since then, I figured that being grounded and medicated was necessary to keeping up with Ph.D's.

All of this background lead up to tonight's mission. While I need my mind-altering fun pills, I can't get my perscription renewed by the guys I saw in Ohio. Standard psychiatric practice states that every time your perscription expires, you have to shell out 50-75 bucks and meet with your doctor to get a renewed perscription. Naturally you can't just do an out-of-state phone interview. You can't be charged for a phone interview. I love medical doctors.

So since that wasn't a possibility, I decided importing drugs from a 3rd world country was the next logical step. After all, there wasn't a fucking chance in hell I was going to find a psychiatrist in LA, wait a month and then pay 120-160 USD just for a prescription; I need this shit NOW. I tried Canadian websites, Netherland websites, all in vain. But then out of the morning mist rose our impoverished brother country to the south, Mexico, its arms embracing me like a son as it held a bottle of Cuervo Gold in one hand and a weed-whacker in the other. It was like one of those slow-motion grape-stomping scenes in a foreign film, where the old uncle grips the lead actor around the shoulder and talks about wine and women, the music playing as some virginal slut gives him the eye. I logged into the Mexico website, signed up, ordered my drugs, signed a few international trade agreements about US customs and bingo, my order was due to be shipped out in a 25 year old truck this very day.

So, in conclusion, Viva Mexico!�and fuck psychiatrists.

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