Radio Diatribe

Got the idea from indigo-witch.

Last night, I had the most intense dream in ages. At least, I think I did; I can’t, for the life of me, remember any details.

One thing for sure is that as I woke up, I had this biting desire to hold, hug, smell, and smooch a baby, specifically a son that I’ve fathered. And, this feeling has stayed with me all day.

Confusing though it is (I thought only women had this kind of dreams), I felt strangely happy and uplifted. As I was waiting in line to confirm my psych appointments at Health Services, I wondered whether I should have one of those man-with-a-low-self-esteem-wondering-if-the-world-really-needs-more-losers-like-him crisis, but then I figured I needn’t worry about it; it’s probably just Paxil messing with my mind.

While I feel very happy (only if irrationally so), I get this ominous feeling that a year from now, I will be visiting a nice, professional lesbian couple every month to hold, hug, smell, and smooch my biological son.

God, I really need to switch to a different antidepressant.

But then, saying “I am 29 years old, and, by the way, I have a 7 year old son with this lesbian couple that I know” will sure get the conversations going at white-collar, upper middle class social gatherings. Or, make the room go completely silent.

Ever since the dose has been upped four weeks ago, I’ve been either sleeping 12+ hours a day, or feeling like shit because I got less than 12 hours of sleep the previous night. Before Paxil, I was depressed, but more or less functional; now, the depression has gotten better, but I can’t function.

I am meeting with a psychiatrist this week, and I think he’s going to put me on another antidepressant (probably Effexor). And the timing is just wonderful; I will get to experience first-hand the Paxil Withdrawal Syndrome, various bizarre Effexor side-effects, and, if I am really lucky, serotonin syndrome just as the midterm season rolls around. Fuck.

• Merck Cervical Cancer Vaccine Wins Backing From U.S. Advisers
  The U.S. FDA advisory panel endorsed the approval of Merck’s new genital warts vaccine. Now, only if there was a vaccine for the dreaded herpes.

Damn you, Paxil.

Beginning today, you can talk to me on the phone for USD 0.30 per minute.
So, if you are just dying to talk to a clinically depressed social retard, please call 1-888-MY-ETHER ext. 01557686 or click the button below.

Some questions you could ask me:

• What is your favourite colour?
• Sufjan Stevens is not gay. What the fuck is wrong with you?
• Will taking Paxil up my indie-cred?
• You accuse a lot of people of being gay. Have you ever thought you might be projecting?
• Am I too fat?

Michael Ian Black has a blog, and it is absolutely hilarious. That is all.

• Paxil gives you sweaty palms and makes you sleep way more than you used to.
• A certain Mr. Sean Lynch is in my CS 350 class and has a deep baritone voice (I saw him multiple times before, but I’ve never heard him speak).
• The volume control on the new Air Canada video-on-demand system doesn’t work. The VOD system did have one good movie (Transamerica, to be specific) on it though.
• Nagi Noda is the new Michel Gondry. (proof 1, proof 2)
• Reactine works way better than Allegra for my birch pollen allergy.
• Benzedrine really doesn’t help you study, or so I’ve been told.