Monday, February 27, 2006

ThePeach has a Drug-Fuelled Moment of Clarity, Followed By a Much Longer Period Of The Noids

I really need to stop smoking drugs. I think I literally slept away my entire weekend.

So, TheHippie, WeeOne and I decided to have a chick’s night on Friday. This involved several bottles of wine, a tube of cookie dough, and eventually a bag of dirty pot that TheHippie bought on the streets. God I love her.

I think I need to explain a little more about this pot. The last time she went home, TheHippie went out and got smashed with some friends and decided that she needed some pot – NOW. She started wandering the streets around 2am, asking random people if they had any pot to sell. Finally, they found a guy who said that he did, in fact, have pot to sell her. They went into an alley. There, TheHippie and her friends discovered that they only had 10 dollars…between the 3 of them. The random guy said he didn’t have anything that he could sell them for 10 bucks, but they begged, and eventually he begrudgingly agreed to sell them some of his “personal stash”.

And that is what we smoked. It was probably ground up newspaper laced with bleach, but it got us fucked up. Like super, super high. As in, I tried to dance with myself in a full length mirror and eventually TheHippie had to turn the mirror around because it was freaking us out kind of high. Plus we were already drunk from the wine. Jesus Christ, and I wonder why I haven’t gotten into grad school.

So, there we were - high, drunk, and watching episode after episode of family guy. You know you’ve all been there. Don’t judge me.

So, that’s when it hit me. Why was I so stressed out about my future? Why was I wasting time wondering what to do with my life? Why was I freaking out because I have no life goals or ambitions?

THIS is life, man! Getting high and being with your friends! Who needs goals? And really, who needs a job to earn money when TheHippie gives you drugs and WeeOne gives you cookie dough and all one needs to distill your own liquor is a potato garden?? And really, that’s all you need! And the world is such a beautiful place what with all the colours and sounds – why don’t I just enjoy my life as it is? Embrace it!

Then I ate a grapefruit (“the juices…holy shit guys…so beautiful”) and wandered home at 3:45 am. A cop actually asked me if I was ok on my way. If nothing else, it’s nice to know my street is actually patrolled.

The next night, TheHippie and I decided to recreate the beauty of our Friday in a night that will forever be named “a social experiment gone horribly, horribly wrong”. We did the same thing. Drank wine, smoked some dirty pot. But this time, we went out to a club to meet up with FauxHawk and about 100 of his classmates at the end of their pubcrawl. And this time, I got paranoid. Or, as I like to call it – the noids.

First, I whined the whole way to the club that I was way too high and everyone could tell and was judging me. TheHippie, god bless her, persevered and probably tuned me out. Then, we decided to stand outside the club for a minute to get some air before we went in. That’s when FauxHawk and his good friend TheYetti bumped into us. FauxHawk, who was drunk off his tree, only had one reaction when he saw me (and by the way, he invited me):

“What the fuck?”

With that, he went inside the club and I didn’t see him again until 2:45am. It was 11:15.

That didn’t go over too well with my noids. Now I was convinced that I had crashed the part-ay. TheHippie, god bless her, sat us down in a corner in the club and tried to convince me that we weren’t crashing the part-ay. But that was hard to do when people kept throwing coats at us. Yes, we had somehow become the trolls of the coats. All the med students must have seen us, decided we were the most socially awkward people there, and thought “what the fuck, why not pile our coats on top of them? They clearly don’t belong here and thus should be hidden. Also, has anyone seen my platinum credit card? My dad’s going to kill me”.

As we slowly realized that a) FauxHawk wasn’t coming back, b) we were the trolls of the coats, c) music is scary, it became time for us to leave. I left a message on FauxHawk’s cell phone and we got in a cab and got back to the safety of my apartment and a hermit-like existence that is bound to become my future. At 2:45am, FauxHawk called me and asked me “are yoush not at the club anymore? I turned aroundsh and yoush weres gones”. I didn’t even try to explain to him that 3 hours had elapsed in the time it took him to notice that I had left. I just got in the cab that he was riding and got him safely into his apartment and to bed. The next day, he told me that he swears only 5 minutes had passed between when he saw me at the door (“what the fuck?”) and when he called me. Poor, precious FauxHawk.

So, I learned a few things this weekend:

1. I can’t get high and go out in public.
2. Getting high probably isn’t going to solve all my problems. Or any of them. In fact, it will just exacerbate the problems that already exist.
3. That isn’t going to stop me from getting high in the future.
4. I still have no idea what to do with my life.
5. It might be potato farming.

All in all, it was a pretty good weekend.

ThePeach

9 comments:

thehippie said...

i actually bought the pot with my 19 yr old sister and my 20 yr old cousin during christmas. we come from a family with high morals.

Anonymous said...

I'm most impressed you can whip out a $10 word like "exacerbate" the day after a weekend like that...

thepeach said...

I'm very wordy. I may have lost some motor functions and/or cognitive skills, but my vocabulary remains...umm...good.

Cleavage said...

Dear ThePeach:
Update more often, damn you! Some of us have no money to do interesting things after entertaining internet lovers for all of reading week, and are left with only our hi-speed for company. Damn you!

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