alas, these days, and for the last six months, i've been living like one of those straight-edge kids i used to gawk at when i found out they didn't drink or do any drugs. and really, i don't want to do drugs. i just want to smoke the peace-loving pot.
i feel like i've had pot on the brain in a serious way lately. like, i'm on AIM a lot more now—i wasn't for a year and a half or so—and catching up with friends i haven't spoken to since before i moved to LA back in '05. well, it seems that all my conversations inevitably end up being about smoking le weed. which is always a very engaging conversation considering i have very strong opinions about marijuana and its benefits to mankind. but it's also a bummer because i have little to no opportunity to smoke in my current situation [living at my sister's house, without a proper job, writing a book like a damn dirty hippie (sans le weed and patchouli), acting as a nanny to my small nephew] and i yearn for it.
the worst part is that i actually have some weed that my sister gave me and i can't smoke it because, stupid me, i stored my bowl in the attic with the rest of my extraneous crap thinking i wouldn't ever need it. of course, the weed is also really fucking old and dry and i don't know that i'd even want to smoke it if i could, but desperate times call for desperate measures and i have been known to scrape resin every now and again. i'd smoke ancient weed before i smoked resin. beggars can't be choosers, after all. which means i'd probably smoke resin at this point, too.
the only glimmer of hope on my horizon is the fact that we're going home to my parents' house in DC for thanksgiving and, if my mom lets me drive her lexus—without insurance because i don't own a car anymore, which is a major reason she'd say no—i can go find my fellow pot lovers and have them share with me. i've been thinking about this a lot, obviously. i need to get out and be amidst my peers. i need to smoke some fucking pot and relax for a minute and have a hearty laugh. and, if i could manage it, i'd love to go to the black cat and drink some whiskey and dance my ass off. but i'll settle for just the pot-and-laughter bit if i can't have it all.
i just hate the misconceptions surrounding marijuana. like on those anti-marijuana commercials—the kid whose brother doesn't pick him up from school because he was stoned in the basement; the swim team that gets let down at a meet because one of the swimmers was too stoned to show up; the kid who drowns in the pool because the babysitter was getting baked; the biker who gets hit by a car in the drive-thru because the driver had been smoking pot. i mean, dude. these are all such unlikely situations! first of all, i don't think stupid people should smoke pot. but even if they do, most people who smoke aren't retarded enough to forget the important shit they have going on. it's not like they're crazy crackheads who can't think about anything else aside from their fiendish need for more drugs. pot's not addictive. secondly, most potheads know if they're productive potheads or not. i, for one, am certainly not. when i'm high, all i want to do is giggle, eat, discuss existentialism and sleep. thus, i will never do anything that requires the full attention of my faculties whilst partaking in the pot. it just doesn't work. i have a friend, however, who is totally a productive pothead and can't get motivated to do anything unless she is stoned. like, i've seen the girl clean her entire fucking house and bake cookies while high [i just sat there and ate the cookies], and she used to crank out papers and important assignments in college like that, too. it's just how she functions. my point is, once you know whether you're a productive pothead or not, you're able to gauge when it's an acceptable time to smoke or not. either way, no competitive swimmer would dare get baked before a big meet—or even a practice, and i know this because i knew a stoner swimmer in college—nor would a babysitter attempt to care for a child if he/she weren't a productive pothead...those little fuckers can run fast.
thirdly, i don't know many potheads who'd be willing to actually leave the house to satiate their munchies. like, most high people just want to stay home, and even if they do get in their cars, it's with a distinct paranoia. i drive like a fucking old lady when i'm high; i go 30mph and i'm like, "i'm going so fast!!" my hands are clenched on the steering wheel and i'm alert as hell. meanwhile, i'm much more of a reckless speed demon when i'm not under the influence of anything. needless to say, if i were stoned and going through a drive-thru, i'd see that biker and stop at least 10 feet away because i'd be paranoid that my depth perception were off. also, what the fuck is a biker doing in a drive-thru anyway? those commercials are totally illogical.
anyway, i miss my weed. i miss the euphoric feeling of peace and well-being i experience while high, i miss the quiet knowledge that all is as it should be in the world and that everything will be alright, i miss the ebullient joy i feel that subsequently makes everything funny, i miss the camaraderie of passing a flavored blunt around. on that last point, i'm wondering if they even have those moist, flavored blunt wraps on the east coast. they sold these everywhere in LA:
i do miss california when i think of the pot. that was some good shit. but yeah, i miss the good times most of all. i miss getting together with friends and getting stoned while making jokes and then pigging out afterward. and i think what makes me so nostalgic for all that is the smell of fall. this crisp, autumn weather always makes me think of times past and i start to miss people and places and things.
so. hopefully i'll get to smoke soon. if not, i might go crazy.
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