No Need To Get High, I’m There Already

So I had this interesting conversation with a guy friend the other day, and as it turns out he might be a pothead.

Once upon a time when I was just a young innocent girl (yes I know it’s hard to believe now, shhh) this revelation would have shocked me, and I’d have backed away like he said he had lice and offered me some.

Anymore though.. especially with living in Austin like I do.. it was like he said he likes to go Kayaking or White Water rafting. Two things that I don’t do and have never done, but I can sort of relate to.. sort of.

I mean I’ve been in water. I’ve been tubing. I’ve rowed a canoe and a rowboat. I can extrapolate. I’m good like that. And I’m relatively certain that my exuberance level at rowing a canoe while the other occupants were trying to tip it mid-stream probably directly correlates to the excitement of white water rapids for others. (If I’ve not mentioned my fear of water with fish in it before, please insert that context into here.) Let’s just leave out my experience with tubing while being chased by a water moccasin. They were exciting adventures. Thrilling. and semi-death defying (shut up they were too).

But back to the chat about Mary-Jo-Wanna…

I’m honestly not sure how we got to talking about it. But we started to talk about getting high and had I experienced it.

Most of my life, though I was pretty much a goody-two-shoes.. still kinda am, people often looked at me like I was.. well.. high. I related well with potheads. It wasn’t until a few years ago, that I really figured out why. And this conversation with my friend only cemented this theory for me.

See as my friend and I talked about getting high on pot, the more he explained.. the more I explained about my experiences with being “high”…

FYI… I’ve never smoked pot. Just in case you were worried. I did get a second hand high once, that was enough.. thanks.

Anyway.. the more I realized that I didn’t need Mary-Jo.

See, I get high with certain allergic reactions. (I know crazy right?) Just ask my friends. They’ve seen it. One minute I’m all fluent in English and having logical thought patterns.. the next I’m.

well.. I’m..

“Trapped in body with a broken babblefish”

And everything you say sounds like “Waaaaa Waaaaa Waaaa” (yes the Charlie Brown parents’ speak).

The world gets a little unsteady, movement feels quite like an amusement park ride, and I turn into bonafide “stupid”.. I seriously have trouble remembering my name.

I even sometimes get the munchies later.

So I don’t need no Mary-Jo.. I can get my high cheap, legally… well of course a little death defying..

Which is why I avoid it.

PS: That one time I did get second hand Mary-Jo high.. Scared the ever-loving crap out of me, I thought I was having an allergic reaction. Fortunately, no.. it just rendered me uncoordinated and a moron for a few hours. Phew.


Holiday Parties

Friday night, Ms Hottottie had invited me over to her place for a Christmas party. Since I’d just met her the day before, and I spent most of Friday holding my head thinking “OMG make the pain stop”.. I didn’t have much time to prepare any real Christmas goodies.

So I loaded up a couple bottles of wine, a bag of chips, and went.

It was a small party of mostly couples, but they were fun and interesting people so I didn’t mind. Plus it was kind of nice to just chill.

I met the absolute coolest couple EVER!

They’ve been married for 5 yrs, no kids, and act like they’re newlyweds. Ok well adjusted newlyweds, not the PDA newlyweds.

She’s a housewife like I used to be, and we bonded over that. Its not an easy thing to do, especially in today’s society. And while you may take pride in it, and love it, and you and your spouse may exstatic about it.. Other people aren’t (reactions range from envious “oh so you eat bonbons all day” to judging “But you should still work.”), and its an extremely lonely job. Especially if you don’t know any other housewives.

She’s at least fortunate that her husband is a social guy (my ex was not) so they go out relatively often for her to meet other people. He’s in computer something, and very much a geek. He and I spent a good portion of the evening talking. I have food allergies and he has diabetes. We both have restricted diets which were handed to us by doctors with little to no instruction. Sink or swim. So we spent a good portion commiserating about learning to swim and the pitfalls of it.

It was easy conversation. We all laughed and joked around and had fun.

So much fun, that after two bottles of wine (I drank at least one entirely by myself) and much good conversation.. it was suddenly 4am.

Btw I really want to find a boyfriend, just to double date with these two. Yeah they’re that awesome.

Best Vacation Ever

I had the best vacation ever.  Actually, it felt like the first real vacation I’ve ever had. It was the first vacation I’ve taken since the separation/divorce. The first vacation I’ve taken in years that didn’t include my ex or my family.

It was peaceful. It was fun. And best of all, it was completely drama-free.

No one sat on the side lines judging my every move. No one got in a huff when I couldn’t eat something or needed something special (I have food allergies).  No one irritated me by condescendingly suggesting “You sure you can’t just eat a little?”

Since my food allergy discovery every “vacation” I’ve tried to make has been a complete battle, until this one.

I went to visit my long-time online/phone friend, Folder.  We’d yet to meet in person, but we’d talked so often for so long that it honestly felt like just visiting an old friend. It was great, relaxing, and just go with the flow.

And when I insisted on taking over the cooking, he more than willingly let me. How freaking awesome is that?

In dealing with my ex and my family, any time I wanted to cook it became an ordeal of “What you don’t think I can cook?” or “You don’t think I can do it right?” or they took it as some other kind of insult or slight.  But seriously, its just easier and more relaxing for me if I just fucking do it. I like cooking most of the time.  I just really hate cleaning up.

And guess what!!  Folder did all the clean up.  Seriously was in heaven.

Then I went to visit another old friend of mine (an ex of sorts actually but so long ago an ex that well it doesn’t count) and his gf/wife.  They as well were easy going and more than willing to hire me on as a cook.  And they did all the clean up.

I went on this vacation nervous, and slightly scared.  With the ex, everytime I mentioned something allergy he treated me like I was being overly dramatic and seeking attention… so much so that I was honestly scared he’d sneak something I was allergic to into my food.  With my family, while they were more understanding, they also didn’t always think about things so food was russian roulette.

But I thought, WTF I need out of here and we’ll see how things go.

So despite being dragged to see dinosaur bones, a car show (I am SOO not about cars or dinosaurs for that matter), and Fisherman’s Wharf (for the 3rd time), I had a fantastic time.

I so love my friends. And I love the new hope I have, that life doesn’t have to be a battle ground of miserable.  There can be peace, and it can be good. Very Good.