Who are You?

I really think you are who you truly are only when you are by yourself. In 6 years of being a parent, I never had the house to myself for any extended period of time. Until tonight,...my wife and kids are attending a sleep over at a friend's house. What's interesting is that I have not a clue what to do with myself. I have a full range of ideas from my Superego to my Id. In the end, I just feel like getting high and see what happens next. That's pretty much who I am.

X marks the spot

Last Saturday my buddy picks me up to go snowboarding. He begins the process by sending me text messages early in the morning prodding my tired eyes open. I kick up the kettle and grind some coffee for the press. when my buddy arrives he tells me he just got a ticket for speeding. then he pulls out a bullet of coke. I laughed because to me coke really doesn't do much for me. I used to do it in my teens and early 20's but never really got into it. Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette wrapper with a white capsule inside. I had asked him a couple months ago to get me some MDMA if he ever came across it. Like LSD, mushrooms and other psychedelics I appreciate exploring the innner realms of conscienceness. So we hit the slopes and hit the powder in a big way. Not only was I hitting the fantasic fresh dump of snow but I finally caved in and hit the bullet of coke my buddy passed to me. Not really feeling anything definite I did appreciate the anesthetic effect as the coke dripped down the back of my throat. I turned to my buddy and said, "hey, I remember this..." I have to say that my snowboarding immediately improved having a lot more balls than what I did the previous runs. A few hours later we were done for the day as the crowds stomed the resort.

At home I drew a hot bath and couldn't stop thinking about the MDMA. It was a lazy Saturday and it was the perfect excuse as it had been snowing on and off through the day. After the very fucking relaxing bath I went to the store and bought a brand new bottle of Bombay Sapphire and tonic. I went ahead and poured myself a beautiful gin and tonic, removed the pill from the clear cig wrapper, and chased it down with the best gin in the world. As I talked on the phone, I downed a couple more GT's. 45 minutes later it hit me in a wave like a warm fuzzy blanket. The smile on my face would continue for the next 4-5 hours. Typically I love to sit in silence when doing shrooms or acid but this made me want to talk on the phone. I made numerous phone calls, warming my feet by the fire and watching the snow fall outside my living room window. After lot's of continuous talking on the phone the phone battery died. I thought that was great - the fact I felt so good, so social that I could wear out a fully charged phone. My conclusion is that it's a fantastic 5 hour vacation that vibrated my reality with a continuous perma-grin. All hail lazy Saturday's!!

New Friend

Two months ago I turned my new friend onto my man. Always a sketchy thing and rarely done, but my new friend is a family man like me who has two kids and a wife, and puffs a steady. I'm excited to meet someone like me but it's weird because the family knows me from my position at work first and as myself second, as a result, I'm a little guarded when we talk about consumption.
So not wanting to run out during this week, I call my man today. I wasn't going to call my new friend because I was concerned he may say something like, "You are getting more?!?! Dude I still have two months worth!" My man says my friend had just called. I thought, "wow what a cosmic connection, we are on the same pace!!" eventually we worked it work where he was going to get it directly from my man's house, I wasn't sure about that, I replied, "Let me see if that's cool." My new friend said,"I picked up some from his house three weeks ago!"

Don't Let Go

When things get stressful, I party. Well I basically party all the time because life is generally stressful. But when things get extra stressful I party more. So with turmoil at work I went back to drinking, first wine, then wine coolers, then margaritas, and verifying my sickness I drank a room temperature beer last night with the ganja butter slice of bread,....calling it dinner. My kids think the world of me as I spend countless hours playing, just playing, wrestling, reading books, and telling stories. I can't do that sober, my sober thoughts drive me to do things, but once I hit this certain level, I'm all about playing and being. We danced all night to reggae throwing t-shirts up in the air and catching them. The simplest things can bring such happiness. I'm not sure how to get out of this habit of drinking again but it is now in my blood again and seems to compete quite well with the last of my herb.
Here's a funny. I finally decided to let go of my Grateful Dead cassette collection, well over 100 cassette tapes, packed from house to house but long since unused as a result of the digital age and sites like www.archive.org This is hard for me to let go as I have had this collection for well over 15 years! So my wife puts the tape collection (for free-profiting from live music is a no no) on our local Craigslist,...again another cool site www.craigslist.org We get a ton of responses including a good friend of ours who didn't recognize that it was our listing. His response was I would like these, as I have a good friend who would really appreciate them. That good friend, it turns out, was me! I was tempted to give the collection to him and have it be returned to me as if that was the way it was supposed to be but I just couldn't. Let it go.

Just Say N2O

So I was in this store called, the Grocery Outlet. I'm not sure how I got there, I was looking for something across town and having attention deficit disorder, I simply got distracted by the fruit trees out in front of the store. I went inside to see what I may be missing and sure enough I just got creeped out by shit selling for rock bottom prices on stuff that has expired!!! Isn't there some sort of law preventing that!?! I wasn't complaining when I saw three for a dollar whipped cream in a can. I assumed that chocolate whipped cream wasn't such a big seller, but I wasn't interested in the flavor. I bought up a bunch and drove about a half block and sat in my car, music real loud and sucked down the whipped cream. Hippie Crack, I thought, such a joneser for altered states of reality. I was having flashbacks to the days of the Dead parking lot, seeing hippies fall and hit their heads on the pavement only to buy another over priced balloon. Than I recalled a time when my man had a tank and occasionally would throw nitrous parties. The lowest low was when my other friend got a tank filled at an automotive place only for the automotive place to mix their nitrous with lead. We thought it was lead, it sure tasted awful and I eventually stopped because the high wasn't worth the taste and the potential brain damage. Then there was the time in high school when my girlfriend worked at an ice cream store which had nitrous for their whipped cream. She would fill up balloons full of nitrous and hand them to me in broad daylight in front of costumers and everything!!

The problem with nitrous is that
A. It kills massive brain cells and
B. You jones for something so short lived.

I took a massive hit off the chocolate whipped cream had one last wha wha wha and then brought home my last bottle of whipped cream to share with my family. Along the way I stopped at a store front to throw away the empty cans in a garbage can. I was left wondering what the person looking for aluminum cans thought when I said, excuse me, and dumped all these gasless cans of whipped cream away. The whipped cream was a big hit (no pun) when I got home, the kids ate it up, I guess it starts with sugar addiction. The worse was allowing my 5 year old to do his own whipped cream, he really didn't know that it had to be pointed down and when he started to press on the nozzle and gas was escaping, you should of saw my reaction. NO! I darted to the can, realizing the jones hook, I quickly modeled the correct way,.....To make the whipped cream come out without wasting the precious, oh so precious gas. I said, "if you let the gas escape then you waste the whipped cream because it won't come out." All the while thinking "but it's o.k. to waste the whipped cream if you are sucking down the gas!"

Don't Really Drink

So I go to this largely important meeting, knowing that afterward I can enjoy a nice spliff for the 20 minute ride home. After the meeting, my co workers suggest going to a bar, I reply, no thanks I don't really drink,....it's just not good for me. Really I had stronger desires to smoke the spliff solo. The funny thing was what I was saying and how I came across, I think left the coworker, thinking I'm either way too square or a former alcoholic. I get in my car and before I even hit the freeway, I open up the glass jar the spliff was in, and pull out this beautiful massive spliff, wet and unsmokable!! Evidently there was a tad of water in the jar that never dried out! So I do what most reasonable professionals would do, jam the spliff into the heater vent and crank the car heater on high. After about five minutes, I attempted to smoke it but found only the paper to be dry but not the herb. To make up for it all, when I got home, I took several bonghits and drank a half bottle of wine.

Ramble On Rose

So not much new has been happening. The same, bonghits at night to come up with fantastic stories to tell my son and to be able to sleep well. I usually fall asleep while telling the farout stories. The whole oral tradition thing has been around long before print and TV, so I'm into it, it's like jazz, I'm not sure where I'm going but I can certainly get into details and all kinds of transitions and explorations. Yes I. On the weekends, I eat ganja butter on my toast, drink Bhang in the afternoon and take bonghits around bedtime, all the while, continually drinking green tea out of a quart size wide mouth mason jar! I put off important work, enjoy the moment with my family, go on field trips to plant nurseries and get into deep plant conversations with those who work there. They know their shit, one can learn a lot visiting a field trip. By Monday morning, I'm back at work, a location that everyone knows me but really no one knows me, it's like playing Ziggy Stardust at times and just as weird! My Monday bowel movements smell exactly like ganja, specifically the odor of making ganja butter with a ton of shake leaf. It's terribly funny to walk into your office to smell such a familiar odor, like, "Yo Yo I've been cooking it up in my office, it's been a stressful day, just gotta cook up my medicine!"

Chillin'

So I've been milking this sickness by staying home. It's been nice to slug the cough syrup, and spread ganja butter generously on my toast in the morning. I spend the day making paper airplanes for my kids and listening to music. In the evening, I puff steady to create the sick raspy voice needed to call in sick for another day. One would think, dude you are going to lose your job like this! But really I work where I am entitled to sick days and I got a bunch to burn before June as I'm outta this job anyhow, so it really doesn't matter. Now I'm down to my last slug o' syrup, so I reckon I'll go back to work.