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The LA Times has a really good piece on exactly HOW Oxycontin became a perfect storm for addiction (marketing and enforcing 12 hour dosing despite solid evidence that it wears off early for many, many people):

The documents provide a detailed picture of the development and marketing of OxyContin, how Purdue executives responded to complaints that its effects wear off early, and their fears about the financial impact of any departure from 12-hour dosing.

Reporters also examined Food and Drug Administration records, Patent Office files and medical journal articles, and interviewed experts in pain treatment, addiction medicine and pharmacology.

Experts said that when there are gaps in the effect of a narcotic like OxyContin, patients can suffer body aches, nausea, anxiety and other symptoms of withdrawal. When the agony is relieved by the next dose, it creates a cycle of pain and euphoria that fosters addiction, they said.

OxyContin taken at 12-hour intervals could be “the perfect recipe for addiction,” said Theodore J. Cicero, a neuropharmacologist at the Washington University School of Medicine in St. Louis and a leading researcher on how opioids affect the brain.

Patients in whom the drug doesn’t last 12 hours can suffer both a return of their underlying pain and “the beginning stages of acute withdrawal,” Cicero said. “That becomes a very powerful motivator for people to take more drugs.”

this looks cool, if you’re in NYC

Ari Ne’eman puts together the case against Donald Trump from a disability rights perspective (obviously there are many many many reasons to dislike Donald Trump, but this is a good perspective to have):

It’s a more important task than many people realize, in part because people with disabilities have not been the main target of Trump’s demagoguery. Despite a reprehensible episode last year where Trump engaged in a cartoonish mockery of a journalist’s physical disability, the bulk of Trump’s attention has not been on the disability community. And this is exactly the danger. To those of us who have been watching closely, there is significant evidence that Trump is likely to make a play for the disability vote before the general election is over.

Already, his campaign has tried to reach out to parents of autistic children who buy into the long discredited myth that autism is caused by vaccinations. As far back as the second Republican primary debate, Trump linked autism to vaccines, going on to spout the long discredited idea that “autism has become an epidemic…Twenty-five years ago, 35 years ago, you look at the statistics, not even close. It has gotten totally out of control.” Never mind the overwhelming scientific consensus against vaccine causation of autism, or the significant evidence that shows that autism has always existed in the general population at comparable rates to the modern day. Never mind the despicable premise that subjecting children to the risk of death from fatal illness is preferable to even a fake risk of having an autistic child. Trump saw an electoral opportunity, and he took it.

Virginia Woolf’s sole with white sauce (I love this series):

Despite countless events occurring during mealtimes in Sense and Sensibility, we are left to imagine for ourselves what Marianne and Elinor Dashwood may have eaten in their Devonshire cottage, at dinner with Sir John and Lady Middleton and Mrs Jennings, or during the heartbreaking trip to London.

Not so, Virginia Woolf. The three-course luncheon in A Room of One’s Own is rich in detail. The importance of this meal lies in its stark contrast to the one served at the all women’s college. While the Oxbridge men have sole, partridge, a “retinue of sauces and salads” and a “confection that rose all sugar from the waves,” the women at Fernham eat clear soup, beef, greens and potatoes and prunes with custard. The few paragraphs about these two meals has long been one of my favourite pieces of food writing. I’m excited to be recreating this second meal (I will be taking significant creative license with the details) at a supper club in the coming months.

In my mother’s shoes:

I tug the shoes from my closet on a warm spring morning. Everybody’s moved their clocks ahead an hour, but I haven’t bothered fiddling with the hands on my watch, because it’s hard to read, and I tell myself it’ll all even out in half a year anyway. Daylight savings means the day will stretch for a long while, so I plan for a luxurious walk to match. On go the shoes and some jeans and a nondescript T-shirt, along with a jacket I’ve since misplaced.

I shuffle. The bounce has disappeared itself from the shoes. They’re flat, a little wide, much wider than the new Sperrys, and without the slight heel of the newer versions. They’re exceptionally bad for walking fast, and God help you if you want to wear them while chasing after a bus.

They’re still impeccably soft, though. I can feel her imprint in them; my big toe aligns with hers, and the backs of my heels are cupped by the dents her own must have formed.

oh I am so glad you wrote to Prudie:

A few years ago, I met and fell in love with a man I thought was my soul mate. Last September, we finally decided to make our relationship official and, at first, everything was wonderful. However, my boyfriend had trust issues from being cheated on. He constantly expected to know where I was and who I was with, and got very upset when I forgot to say where I was going. Things really blew up when I was out at the mall with friends and invited an old co-worker (who worked in the building and had once been interested in me) to come say hi. When explaining this to my boyfriend, I said that the friend “showed up” rather than that I invited him. I apologized profusely for the error when asked about it, but my boyfriend saw this incident as a huge breach of trust that he couldn’t get past, and two months later ended our relationship because of it. I did everything I could think of to show that I was still deserving of trust, and it wasn’t enough. As much as the logical side of me knows he overreacted and that I didn’t do anything improper with my old co-worker, I can’t get past the feelings of guilt and the thought that I ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I still hurt him and broke his trust, which I never wanted to do. How do I move past losing the person I thought was the love of my life and feeling like a failure?

On the Mexican firefighters helping out Alberta:

Five dozen firefighters from Mexico are in Edmonton Thursday getting ready to help fight wildfires in northern Alberta.

The 62 brigadistas will join the 1,700 firefighters currently working in the province.

Firefighter Hector Trejo says the firefighting in the state of Jalisco season ended a week ago, about the time they received the request to come to Alberta.

I love this slideshow of the bathroom at the Met Gala

Apple Music is not your friend:

“The software is functioning as intended,” said Amber.
“Wait,” I asked, “so it’s supposed to delete my personal files from my internal hard drive without asking my permission?”
“Yes,” she replied.

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