Depression Medication Argument

“I’m Not Depressed, Just Misunderstood.”
As time passes, the number of clinical depression cases seems to increase. Like ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder) and ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder), statistics are highest in teen cases. Or rather, it’s teen cases that have the highest probability of being misdiagnosed. This is because the teenage years are full of conflicting hormones, which more likely than not, will result in some neurological misfires. This can cause anger, depression, apathy and more. If this is so, however, then why are physicians so gung-ho about prescribing dangerous medications, not originally intended for minors, that have the potential to further damage these children’s minds?
The dictionary defines “[clinical] depression” as: ‘A psychiatric disorder characterized by an inability to concentrate, insomnia, loss of appetite, anhedonia (inability to feel pleasure), feelings of extreme sadness, guilt, helplessness and hopelessness, and thoughts of death.” (Dictionary.com) The way depression works, like any psychological disorder, is by affecting the chemicals in the brain, by either creating a deficiency or an overabundance, either of which will have adverse effects. The chemicals linked to depression are generally, serotonin, norepinephrine, and dopamine. These are neurotransmitters, which relay, amplify, and modulate, signals from one neuron to another. Serotonin is assumed to control other neurotransmitters, making it vitally important (and the main chemical treated). To treat depression, medication is prescribed to affect these neurotransmitters. Typically Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors, SSRIs, are used, which attempt to control serotonin levels. In a list of 25 common antidepressant medications, 40% were SSRIs. (Women to Women) But the reason this treatment is so dangerous is because it is extremely hard to control the levels of any chemical in the body, even more so within the brain, which is so vitally important. On top of this hardship, one must also realized that, despite the leaps and bounds that modern medicine has achieved, we still don’t know much of anything about the brain, how it works or the chemicals that affect it. “Medicine has a whole different impact in the young developing child than they do in an adult and we don’t understand that impact very well, and that’s where we’re still in the dark ages.” (Frontline) So what reasoning can be used to fiddle around with the chemicals in the erratically hormone-controlled brain of a child or teenager?
Up until around age 24, the brain is still maturing and growing. This means that the control of chemicals and hormones is still somewhat unregulated. After linking some antidepressants to increased suicide, the FDA introduced the ‘Black Label Box.’ This merely acts as a warning label (the highest level the FDA has), but it is specific to a certain age group; anyone under the age of 24. (CNNHealth.com) So if the Food and Drug Association has to use a warning label, linking medications to higher cases of suicide for a specific age group, why is it being given to said age group? One must also take into consideration that, as minors with chemicals rampaging unchecked within the body, physicians should take mass amounts of time in attempting to diagnose these children at all. What physicians might diagnose as depression could just be a bad case of the blues after a fight with a friend. Just because it lasts a little longer than what is defined as ‘normal’ does not necessarily mean that it is clinical depression that needs to be treated with harsh chemicals. But doctors today don’t have (or want) the time to spend with patients to develop the relationship needed to correctly diagnose possible problems. On top of that, parents want a quick fix to whatever ails their child, choosing drugs instead of spending time with their children to figure out what is wrong.
In adults who experience psychological problems including bi-polar disorder, depression, anxiety, etc. the prescription of drugs, such as Prozac, have successfully helped control or reverse the effects caused by these disorders. So if these drugs can help adults, it makes sense that they can help children as well. If there are prescription drugs that can help manage or fix psychological problems with children or teenagers, then the obvious choice would be to use them. (This is an intended fallacy!) That’s the entire purpose of creating them in the first place. As with any chemical (or anything, for that instance) there are good and bad consequences. In medicine, we call these side-effects. Prescription drugs are accepted because, for the majority of people, the benefits far out-weigh the risks. This is common sense. (Another fallacy!) Taking that into account, the use of prescription drugs on children who need them could help. In a clinical study using Prozac, an SSRI, there was a 20% improvement with 20mg tablet, 22% improvement with 40mg tablet, and a 24% improvement with the 60mg tablet. (There was a 42% negative or neutral outcome.) (CrazyMeds.us) This information shows that Prozac would, at best, improve the effects with depression, or at worst, do nothing.
The above argument is centered on the majority of people, but what about the minority? Do they not count as well? Regardless to the amount affected, there are still negative effects, and these patients’ outcomes do matter. For those whose bodies react differently, doesn’t there need to be better specialized medication or therapy? Prozac, the same medication listed above, has been known to cause (regularly) headache, nausea, dry mouth, sweating, sleepiness, insomnia, diarrhea, weight gain, and loss of libido as side effects. Less common side effects are rash, ‘flu-like symptoms, and anger/rage. Extreme side effects are amnesia, bleeding gums, anti-social reaction and more. It also has a half-life of 9.3 days. It literally takes 45 days to clear out of the system. (CrazyMeds.us) And this is a very popular SSRI, not to mention the only one approved use for anyone under the age of 18. If all this information is publically known, why are there are not more drugs being developed with fewer side-effects that also treat the problem better? Everyone who takes prescription drugs experiences side-effects, and many of them end up taking another medication to fix a side effect of the first drug, and it turns into a Snowball Effect. Therapy is always an available treatment to any psychological disorder, but I believe that the reason that it is not used to its full potential and why people depend so heavily on medications is because therapy takes a long time, with repeated visits, while medication is a ‘quick fix.’
I will admit that medications do help with illnesses, and SSRIs have been proven to help many people with depression and other mental disorders. For the people who are helped by these medications, they are needed. They allow them to live normal lives because of this breakthrough in medicine. Continued use and prescription of drugs (of any kind) allow development and more acute dosing for current and new drugs. Continued use is needed for new developments. That is how medicine works. It also works by taking risks and running trials on new medication and forms of treatment. For this reason alone, SSRIs should be used, but to a limited amount.
I’m not saying that people shouldn’t be treated if they need it, but that what we must consider is the continued development of these medications. Medications are serious and they should only be used when extremely necessarily, which makes quick-diagnosis’ so dangerous to the patients. If the doctor doesn’t put forth the effort to spend adequate time with the patient, it is impossible to provide an accurate diagnosis, and thus leads to dangerously prescribed medications. The world has been permanently stuck in fast-forward, never enough time for anything or one, and it is negatively affecting everyone, and that’s what needs to change.

Wandering the Forgotten Paths

(A forgotten Graveyard.)

Essay for my Freshman English Class:

I’ve never been particularly fond of cemeteries. I’d never really had a reason to ever go to one either, as the closest person to me who died was buried all the way in Detroit. I remember when I was younger, going so far as into my teens, that whenever we would drive past a cemetery I couldn’t even look at it. Just a glimpse was enough to get my stomach knotting. I don’t think it was ever so bad that I’d label it as coimetrophobia (fear of cemeteries), but it certainly wasn’t something I’d associate with pleasure. It wasn’t long before I learned just how many there were and where and when to stay focused on my book. But by doing this I think I drew more attention to them than if I had just glanced at them through the window. I didn’t have a concrete reason to hate or fear them either. I didn’t think them disgusting or deadly. In fact, to this day, I’ve developed a liking for the ornate statues, beautiful crypts and scenes that can only be described as “forgotten realms.”

It wasn’t until after my mother died that I went, willingly, to my first cemetery. Oakwood Cemetery, on 8^th street, was a good place to start. While no one I knew was there, it encompassed everything that I secretly liked about cemeteries. Surely though, this weak stretch of courage was not guided when, on said trip, my father would torment me, albeit lovingly. It was a spur of the moment decision. We had been at the library earlier and I asked him where the closest cemetery was, which just so happened to be down the street. So we got in the car and made an impromptu visit.

When I got out of the car I didn’t know what to do. I started walking along the closest of the subtly sunken graves, following the slowly diminishing alabaster cenotaphs. Unlike other cemeteries that are newer, and therefore have more people to take care, visit and place flowers along the stones, Oakwood was old. There were unused plots, and a New Catholic section in the back, but you could tell its age. The huge trees hung, as if suspended from the air, all around, seeming to rival the number of graves. The air was still damp from the constant rain that had plagued upper Michigan that month. Though damp, the air was still, with only the stray breeze from the road, hundreds of plots away. The names had blurred and disappeared from the stones in the old Jewish section. The area carried a sense of timelessness that only seemed to exist in the area that the shrub-fence encircled. I say timeless because, while the markers, the ground, and bodies far beneath them were altered by the changing time, the meaning did not. It would always be a place of honor and respect to that someone, even if the names are faded away, the flowers withered, the grass overgrown, and no one comes any longer to pay homage. It seemed sort of peaceful in its miserable constant.

The whole serene moment shattered with the wry comment from my father: “You do realize you’re walking on the graves, right?”

My father tried to coerce me again after that; I could see the gleam in his eye, when he beckoned. He was standing in a section bereft of any stones, save one. An obelisk stood tall and plain, in the middle of the grass plain. He stood next to it, continually telling me to come closer and read the inscription. Hesitantly, I inched forward, my heart pounding louder with each step. What did I have to fear from walking across this seemingly empty space? How could it threaten me in its stillness, its simplicity? What caused my hesitance? Once I got within 4 feet I stopped, leaned forward and squinted, no way was I moving forward. The simple epitaph explained it all; my ill feeling, the barren yard, everything. ‘Northern Michigan Asylum 1886’ There were no ending dates, no names, nothing to indicate who was buried, or if anyone even was. It could have simply been a memorial stone.

When I realized just what this place was, I ran screaming all the way back to the safety of the road, where I was certain there were no bodies slowing rotting 2 meters beneath my feet. (While over 100 years there would no longer be anything to rot.) Was the unease I felt somehow subconsciously known? Surely the empty section would give one hesitance to enter, since it wasn’t obvious what it signified, like commemoration for a war, signified with a flag flying high. No, its simple-ness attributed to its complexity. So many open-ended thoughts, feelings, wondering if your loved one was buried beneath your feet or behind one of the old cottages at the hospital.

Did this one moment clearly imprint on my mind the unease I felt throughout the entire trapeze through the grounds? It definitely emphasized it. The stillness, the utter lack of anything but the past that wound my stomach up, made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

For surely that is what a cemetery is, when one looks past the bodies and the mausoleum. It’s the past. The present may enter for awhile and roam around, touching the graves, getting a taste for what will one day become of them, but they must leave. The future is barred from entering, as no one knows what will happen later in life. This place that seems to trap you, giving you the feeling that if you stay too long you won’t be able to leave, though the road is clearly visible and the shrubs would not be hard to climb over.

It is also a physical embodiment of loneliness. Perhaps it was more noticeable at Oakwood than, say, Veteran’s Memorial, with its well-mowed lawn and flowers at each grave. It wasn’t as if there weren’t important people buried at Oakwood. Perry Hannah, the founder of Traverse City, and his entire immediate family is buried there. But walking along the unofficial streets between sections, my hackles rose. The scents seemed to linger and cling, the cold settle into my bones. It almost seemed as if the dead all around were sucking the life out of me, yearning for the thing they have lost. Secretly wanting to be recognized once again, remembered. For a few years after their death, they still have ties to the life they unwillingly left. But soon enough they are forgotten, left to the company of those forgotten as well. They are no longer connected, but you, as a visitor, are.

You are connected to the present and the living through your watches, your phones, the keys to the car in your hand, but you are also disconnected. The watch continues to move forward, though you are unconscious to the movement of time in this desolate place. The phone goes unnoticed as it vibrates in your pocket or purse. The keys offer a soft jingle to break the silence that only the dead can offer. You are alone in your thoughts and the people you see across the multitudes of graves seem as foreign to you as Nessie. You play pretend, as you walk through the rows, getting to experience the solitary loneliness, the detached feeling, with all the time in the world to ponder and think. You are completely alone. And in this moment, one can fully appreciate and dread the consequences of death. You are cold, even if the day is balmy at the bay. You feel a certain hollowness that comes with understanding. The visit is an escape, though into a better world it is yet to be decided.

And after awhile it is understood. While it might take years, you will be back, whether you’re in the ground or spread somewhere else. People feel important only when recognized, and this cemetery offers only the exact opposite. It is undeniable and inevitable that one day, people will forget to visit your stone on your birthday or deathday (that’s staying one word because it should). Your name will simply become a branch on the old family tree. You are still loved, but loved in a sense that someone loves their Great-Aunt or a Grandmother they never knew. All cemeteries offer this unwanted conclusion if you stay long enough to realize. Everyone will eventually be forgotten, and no one is exempt. You could be the king of the world and eventually you will only live on the pages people write about you.

So does this conclusion make this life we all have right now worthless? Many say that what you do in this world doesn’t matter, because no one lives forever. And I suppose this is the truth, because no one does live forever, even in memory.

Vampiric Essay

Rough Draft of Project 1:

Addiction of the “Eternal Kiss” 2.0

What is my connection to the topic?

Ever since 9^th grade, I’ve been on the right side of obsessed with vampires, having started with the infamous tales of Anne Rice. But unlike the thousands (literally) of vampire fans that popped up like frickin’ dandelions over night thanks to Twilight, I let my interest simmer on the back burner, always there when I want another taste instead of indulging constantly. But I think that’s the thing that has surprised me the most. For years there have been vampire stories, starting with Polidori’s The Vampyre, to Bram Stoker’s more popular Dracula, all the way to Stephen King, H.P. Lovecraft, Anne Rice, L.J. Smith and so on. So if these have been available, why the hell has there been such an increase of interest in vampires in just this past year? Is it really just the popularity of Twilight (and, now as my friend mentions it, True Blood) spreading to all the little preteen girls? Or is Twilight really just a front, a façade, for society’s pleasure in all the things that vampires signify finally coming out into the open? As much as I dislike it when good, pure things are torn apart by so many fans that it makes me sick, it really makes me wonder. Why vampires? (Which is so totally weird!) Why not crime dramas, or baseball, or anything else? Then it also makes me wonder just why I like vampires? Could the reason be the same?

So why do I like vampires?

I’ve never really tried to sit down and think about the exact reason I love vampires. Maybe it would be easier to say there isn’t really anything I dislike about them. Either way, I’ll try to give it a shot. Vampires can be divided into three sub-categories that people like. Physical, emotional/mental, and additional power-ups that come with the change. Unbelievable strength (without all those gross ripped muscles!), lightning-fast reflexes, lack of a satiable appetite (save blood), and a slim physique that makes anyone look great. Plus it is said that vampires body’s change (for the better) to make finding and seducing victims easier. So hey, you turn gorgeous. There’s a plus.

Okay, then there’s the mental aspects. They have increased intelligence and rapid-thought process. Metaphysical prowess increases as well, allowing for abilities like mind control and control over the elements, going so far as to be able to manifest things. How is that not cool? And then there is part that, if you believe the age-old rumor, with the loss of the soul, vampires also lose their emotions. Frankly, I don’t believe this. Rather, I think the more animalistic urges (such as lust and hunger) and emotions (rage and greed) are let out into the open. Things like the urge to satisfy hunger (blood) and find pleasure are now more important than feelings such as guilt and fear. This is part of what truly separates them from mortals.

Literally, what do vampires signify?

Well, let’s just go with the obvious, stereotypical reasons for this part. Vampires are dark creatures, unable to feel much aside from pleasure and hunger, who feed on blood to sustain themselves. They signify an immortal being with unbelievable strength and power that few other creatures would willingly cross.

Okay, metaphorically, what do they signify?

Power. They signify everything we want, but cannot (or at least, might not be able to) achieve. Look at the high and dry: very few weaknesses (just because people know of them, it somehow makes them sound vulnerable? How does this work?), immortality can be tied to a lack of weaknesses, incomprehensible strength, increased intelligence, lacking a need for any kind of food, save blood. Sure, separately some of these things are achievable, but together you get something utterly supernatural. So therefore what they really signify is the unattainable. Absolute power.

So why are vampires such “hot stuff” now?

I have no freaking clue. But I think the clue is in Twilight. I mean, it’s Twilight that you see advertisements for all the time now. I feel enough like a scene-kid walking into the local Hot Topic, but it gets worse when I turn a corner in the store and see Edward Cullen staring at me from mass amounts of paraphernalia. Having read it, but not being a big fan, I think I can offer some insight. Twilight is mostly directed towards the young teenage section, the group of people so full of hope when it comes to love. So, I think Stephenie Meyer aimed to make her stories and vampires signify everything that a teenage (girl) person might want. A perfect fairy tale even with some action and villains so it’s not just pure fluff. Except it seems totally impossible and improbable, not even taking account the vampires and werewolves. The main character survives so many near-death experiences that it is almost statistically impossible. But why are these vamps so damn interesting? Is it because they are beautiful? (Probably.) Or that they have the ability to kill you instantly but the restraint to keep their touch gentle? (Everyone likes a thrill.) Or is it because we, as humans, have what they crave the most and therefore, we are their unattainable desire. We can produce everything we need to live; we don’t even need to kill. Vampires desire their lost humanity and need to at least attack someone/thing to get a meal. That is, unless blood banks are giving out free samples now. So by being what they want, does that in turn make us mortals the dominate ones?

Who is dominating whom in the relationship?

Looking back on a point made earlier, this topic is truly questionable. The argument can be made both ways. Vampires are dominant because they have more strength, better reflexes, etc. They’re more intelligent and don’t have the same restraints with their emotions as mortals do. They’re also immune to disease and death by old age (they may age, but that won’t be why they die). They also have very few weaknesses compared to mortals; wooden (ash) stakes through the heart, beheading, burning, silver, holy water/land (anything purified), and sunlight are pretty much it. Mortals? Hell, anything will kill us. But they’re entirely dependent on a continuous source of blood, and since we haven’t been able to create artificial blood yet, vampires can either choose between animals or people. But look at people; we can survive easily from either a strict vegetarian diet, carnivorous, or a mix. We don’t actually need to kill anything (save a few plants) to survive, and plants grow a lot faster than people or animals do. So because we as mortals can survive easier does that make us supreme? We can live without vampires and nothing will change. But vampires can’t leave easily or happily without people. Therefore, with this mindset, one can easily deduct that humans are the dominant ones in the relationship. Right?

Was Twilight really just the catalyst that started this huge craze?

Yes. Probably. I mean, sure there have been tons of vampire stories for years. Look at Bram Stoker, Stephen King, H.P. Lovecraft, Anne Rice, L.J. Smith, etc. But hell. Twilight hits stores and within a year of the last book coming out the movie does too! It’s taken years for Vampire Diaries to even become a tv show! But I suppose the times, they are a-changing. People can be more open about their eccentric likes. So now you have things like Twilight, True Blood, and Blood Ties. People aren’t afraid to say, “Yeah, I have a strange desire to be a gorgeous, blood-sucking creature that rules the night.” Okay, I might be able to believe that. Except it all just seems to be a fad. Just another thing to get into because it’s popular. Which makes me lose a lot of respect for any new vampire story/plotline.

All fads have their draws, that’s why they become so popular so fast; What are the draws of the vampire fad? (What do vampire signify for a teenager?)

Okay, so not to be an ageist or anything, but fads are most popular within the teen-age-group. It’s the time when everyone is trying to define themselves and are thus drawn to do what “everyone else is doing.” And then a fad is born. So what is it that vampires represent that makes the teenage girls (as I have yet to see a boy scream, “Oh my god, Edward Cullen!”) all go weak in the knees?

Let’s start off easy; Thrill – the High. Adrenaline. Call it whatever you want. When put into a situation that invokes fear, adrenaline (i.e. epinephrine) is produced to stimulate the ‘fight or flight’ response. The body increases the blood sugar amount, giving a boost of energy, and heart rate increases, while BP also rises, all of this resulting in shallow, rapid breathing, extreme light-headedness (almost an out-of-body experience type of deal), dizziness, and loss of a sense of time. What’s another name for this? Tripping. Now, this alone doesn’t seem all that tempting. It’s what comes with adrenaline; endorphins. The real high. The “nice” drugs. Endorphins give a release from pain and make us feel oh-so-good. Add epinephrine to endorphins and you have one big trip, worthy of any junkie. People might say they’ll never do drugs and will never understand the high, but it’s simple, and no one is immune. That one pure moment when nothing else matters but the rapid beating of your heart and chemicals running through your veins. ("We are drawn to that which we fear, and we love vampires for the same reason we love roller coasters and scary movies," Detore-Nakamura says. "And while a vampire has the power to kill, a crude wooden stake or a sunrise can dust him, too.")

Next; Thrill – The Risk. Being in a relationship with a vampire is like constantly jumping in front of a speeding car. You never know if it will swerve out of the way, risking itself, to save you, or not stop and leave you bleeding and broken on the ground. But you give the car (or in this case, the vampire) enough blind trust that it will not kill you. I can tie this into the whole adrenaline junkie effect I explained above too. But there is another part. Risk also gives off the same adrenaline that fear does. Do I trust him enough to know when to stop? Will he bleed me dry? It’s a 50-50 chance… How much do I mean to him? All are very reasonable questions (when in a relationship with a vamp). Trust is extreme in any relationship, and with vampires, who have the ability to lose control so quickly, it is even more important. And with vampires, trust becomes more of a physical thing. Does (s)he love you enough to stop at just the right time to prolong your wondrous life with them? Or will this be the last time? You never know where you stand exactly with a vampire and that’s where the thrill comes into play again. And a second part of the trust; if (s)he really is going to kill you, will he love (or respect?) you enough to do it sweetly, holding you close or will (s)he blindly rip your throat out and leave you seizing on the floor as your heart continues to pump blood out of the huge hole in your neck? (“It's exciting because you just never know when a vampire is going to lose control and have to bite you.” –Detore-Nakamura)

Now; Hope. There is one thing that every teenager (secretly) hopes for. Undying love and acceptance. Well, in a relationship with a vampire, you have the undying part right away. If you’re lucky enough to snag one of them, and they happen to like you as much as you like them, then you shouldn’t have to worry about them ever leaving you. Even if you should grow old and wither someday, they won’t leave your side. Or maybe they will take your existence to the next notch, and truly be with you forever. And then there is the ideology that because they are so different from society that they will accept any and all of your “strange” faults. It’s the sort of blind hope that one truly embraces when they are young. Even if the relationship is full of flaws, you still believe in the dream that everything is wonderful and right in the world and nothing bad will ever happen when you’re with this person. ("We find them attractive because they live forever, and it's not their fault that they are not monogamous," she says. "After all, their wives and girlfriends keep dying off." -Kristin Romney)

Next- Status symbol. Much like a Gucci bag, or Prada shoes, liking vampires is now officially “cool.” Being able to keep up a conversation about Twilight is now a top-notch priority for everyone from the Goths to the preps. If you don’t like Twilight then you are now the outcast. Kids who favor the good old works like Anne Rice, are still the freaks, because there is no way Lestat de Lioncourt could ever be as sexy and amazing as Edward Cullen. Sure Underworld was (and still is) totally badass when it came out in theaters but you still don’t see paraphernalia of it plastered on the walls. Girls have even gone to say that Twilight is the new ‘dating guide’ and that it was the prime example of what all boyfriends should be like. (But is this really true? Edward is possessive, emotionally abusive and controlling. Doesn’t sound like a great boyfriend…) So I suppose nothing has really changed. The current fad is different, sure, but ideologies are still the same. You’re cool if you’re with it, lame if you’re not. The people who liked it at first no longer do, while the ones who do, tear it apart until nothing about it is good.

Finally – Vampires signify everything a teenager wants. They’re gorgeous, whether they’re female or male. Bodies to kill (or die) for. They have the power to protect or kill you and the choice to do either. They have immense knowledge, and can help with almost any problem you could have. They’re rich, even if they don’t flaunt it; you know you’d easily be taken care of. They have the security of knowing they won’t just suddenly die one day too. Plus, dating the hottest guy or girl in school instantly makes you popular. You’re the queen or king of your high school kingdom. And that covers status, wealth, and power, the top three desires most people (secretly) want. Vampires are the key to unlocking this wonderful life.

I could probably and easily write another paper on how Twilight has affected society but I will leave that for another paper.

All quotes in parentheses are from this site; http://www.nydailynews.com/lifestyle/2008/11/21/2008-11-21_on_the_eve_of_twilight_why_women_find_va.html

Billiards and Academies

(My friend Chloe playing pool with me.)

“Fuck my life!” Miranda slammed the pool cue onto the table, creating a clinking sound as it hit the balls.

Looking up from my magazine, I let my pocky stick continue to dangle as I asked, “You okay there?”

Turning on me, Miranda unleashed her anger. “That is the eighth time I’ve scratched in one game!” Her mahogany colored hair bounced in its bun/ponytails while her verdant eyes flashed brightly.

Looking over at Miranda’s opponent, Jeremy, who looked rather weary at playing the 15^th game in a row with his girlfriend, I sighed and finished my pocky stick. Putting down my magazine, I looked at Miranda. “Want to play against me? Easy win.”

She seemed to contemplate it and Jeremy looked hopeful. “Hmm… well, it’s true, you suck at sinking balls, but with all the scratching I’ve been doing, you might actually beat me.” Hands on her hips, she smiled, “Alright, let’s go, girl. Get your ass up.” Turning, she faced Jeremy, “Rack ‘em, babe. You’re free.”

Jeremy smiled and handed me his cue and started to gather the balls, before kissing Miranda on the cheek. “I’m gonna go get some food, hun. I’ll be back soon.” She merely waved him off as she watching me rack the balls and align them. Miranda placed the cue ball center and chalked her stick. I stepped back and made a gesture for her to break. Leaning down and on the side, she aligned her stick with the ball, and balanced her cue between her thumb and index finger. With a sharp move, she cracked the stick against the cue ball and broke the balls apart, sinking a stripe.

“Well, I’m stripes,” she smiled at me.

“And, of course, I’m solids. As always.” I lined up to take my shot after Miranda missed her next one. My first game was always shaky, and trying to hit the two ball, I accidentally made the cue ball jump. Sighing, I leaned against my stick.

Miranda laughed, bent down and went to hit, “14 in the corner pocket.” At the last moment, the cue ball clipped the 14 ball and went in the pocket instead.

Miranda stared, almost in shock before fury replaced it, “God… DAMMIT!” This time she threw the pool cue against the wall and without another word, stalked out of the room. Smiling wryly, I picked up her cue and set it next to mine in the rack before knocking all the balls into the holes to store.

“Mhm, alright… Now where was I?” I sat back down and flipped open my magazine, settling down to continue reading my article.