A Mantra of Bad Ideas

I’ve been thinking for the past few days about how I’m going to top the letter I shared with you in the previous post. Since it was one of the hardest things for me to share, I really don’t feel like there’s any way to do that, and since that letter is my heart, it almost makes me want to end the blog and begin a new one, but I shall not do that. Instead, I have decided to go off the grid and tell the kind of story that you will probably never hear from me ever again. But first, I would like to address something else.

I have incredible, amazing, strong women reading this blog. I appreciate all of them, and am humbled by them all the same. I am consistently amazed when you all care enough to leave a comment on my little blog. You are all simply amazing.

Vivi Ann, I proudly raise my glass high to our friendship toast. Your gift is both thoughtful and helpful. Thank you for sharing that with me and giving me incredible words of wisdom. You embody the true meaning of a survivor and I am grateful to have met someone such as yourself.

Yellowcard8807 - Your comment was beautiful and so true. It takes someone extremely wise to know this. Thank you for taking the time to comment on my blog, and if you see this, please know I am making my way over to your Livejournal very soon to check out your writing! You seem to have a way of sending such a beautiful message is so little words.

Second, I would like to announce that I finally took the time to organize all my tags, so, if you're looking for a certain post, things should finally make some kind of sense. If not, just ask me and I'll direct you to the post you are looking for.

And now, in less important news, on to the story. This story involves weed. Not the plant, or grass, as we call it here in Pennsylvania, but the actual thing you smoke to get high. This does not involve me doing weed, and I’m not one to hang around anyone who does such, which is what makes this story one of a kind. Also, it’s just too funny to not tell.

Many years ago, and I’m talking about four or so years ago, my friend, Becky, worked at at local store with a boy named Ben. I can’t remember how I randomly ended up meeting Ben, but we got along just fine and he invited us to a bonfire with just a few of his friends at his house while his parents were away. Becky was aware that Ben was 420 friendly and shared this with me. Usually this would make me run, but because Ben held a full time job and was a full time student who earned decent grades, and because of the way he acted, you could tell he wasn’t a true stoner and we could deal with him, so we decided to go. If things got out of hand, we’d leave. If wasn’t as if we were trapped.

Nighttime came and we went to the bonfire, which really only ended up being Becky, Ben, myself and three or four other people. However, when Becky and I decided to go over, we forgot about the little fact that this was a bonfire, meaning high people would be around fire. I want to say this was really terrible, but it actually ended up being one of the most amusing nights of our lives. This was especially true since no one got high enough to be ridiculous and scary, but were buzzed enough to be stupid.

The first thing that you need to understand is that, instead of having the bonfire in the middle of a yard like everyone else, Ben’s parents had built a huge wooden deck, and the middle of that deck was a fire pit that sat about three feet down inside of the deck. Wooden deck + fire pit = bad idea, just in case anyone was curious.

The second thing you need to understand was that it was a three foot jump up onto the deck with no steps to help you out. You either stretched the three feet, or you didn’t get up on the deck.

During this bonfire several things happened. One was that Becky and I learned that some 420 people are actually mature, respectful people who choose to wind down with something that just happens to be the opposite of illegal. Don't get me wrong, we're not supporting it, but we're also not condemning the people who do it, even though we disagree with it. Since they knew Becky and I didn’t do weed, nor did we want to, they went about thirty feet from the deck and did their thing and then came back. We appreciated this, however, remember what I said about there being a three foot stretch between the deck and the grass?

Some people fell, but one guy did so spectacularly. It was very, very funny, especially considering that, when people are high, they are invincible, so instead of getting hurt, they get up and laugh like a hyena and then keep going. There’s no way you can’t point and laugh, and they kind of encourage it in their state, so this was so my kind of humor. Hey, if you’re ridiculous enough to get high and then fall, I’m going to laugh at you. The fact that you let me just makes my day.

Do you also remember what I said about a wooden deck and a fire pit being a bad idea? Ben, who was actually not acting odd at all, almost caught the deck on fire several times. I don’t think we can credit the weed for this, to be honest. The deck was untreated, dry wood, and the fire pit was right in middle of it. The fire was reaching up and coming out of the pit at deck level, and it was obvious how the deck could catch on fire. Then it was chilly, so Ben kept adding wood to it. I think there was more stupidity to this entire deal than I care to think about, but it was funny.

Then, his friend, you know, the one who fell spectacularly, decided to help with the fire. It was okay when he was walking, slipped and almost fell in. It wasn’t so okay when he was sitting on his chair three feet away and almost fell in. Needless to say, he left then and had his girlfriend, who does not do weed, drive him home. I wonder how he made it in his apartment, and I hope he stayed away from the windows. I never did see him again after that...

Somewhere, at some point of the night, Becky and I left to go and get Starbucks up the road. We came back and were almost accosted for our coffee, in which case, we refused to share. And then we got cold and drove to the Wal-Mart up the street, hung out, and then came back again. The same kid who almost committed unassisted, unintentional suicide by way of falling and way of almost burning himself to death, reintroduced himself every single time.

What did Becky and I do? The mature thing, of course. We pretended we had never met him every single time. It went over well with everyone else.

Maybe this was one of those stories that you really had to be there to appreciate, but I’m sure that in all my years, I’ve never had a crazier night. Let’s recap how the night went.

*Show up at the bonfire, where the fire is in the middle of an untreated wooden deck, meet all the 420 friendly people, and go and get coffee at Starbucks.

*Come back with coffee, re-meet the one kid who must have been good friends with weed, and pretend like we never met him.

*Watch the same kid almost trip and fall in fire, while Ben throws more wood on and almost catches the deck on fire.

*Get cold and go to Wal-Mart, walk around for awhile, pee, come back.

*Get re-introduced to the 420 friendly, suicidal accident kid and pretend like it’s the first time we met him for the second time that night, and for the third time meeting him.

*Watch 420 friendly kid excuse himself and fall off the deck, then get up and laugh and encourage us to laugh at him. Gleefully reply with laughter.

*Go up to the car to warm up a little bit. It was damn cold.

*Come back and are re-introduced to the 420 kid again, and again pretend like we’ve never met him.

*Watch 420 kid almost fall in the fire from a lounge chair three feet away. Spend ten minutes discussing how he almost managed this, as his girlfriend drags him off.

*Watch everyone leave and spend some time talking to Ben until the fire is out and then leave, laughing the entire time, and reaffirm the reasons we do not do drugs.

For the record, I would just like to point out that Ben is now an educated adult, who works as a CNA at a retirement home. He is clean from weed, and I hear the old people love him, despite his lip ring and the like.

And also for the record, I like guys with lip rings. I’m not saying I liked Ben, because I didn’t know him that well even though there was chemistry that never went anywhere, but I’m just saying I seem to really have a thing for guys with lip rings. It’s not like they make a difference when you kiss a person with a lip ring, but I’m just saying I like them.

A lot.

Was that an over share?