How?
How can I be in a coma all day at work and then come home and I am full of the energy I wish I had all day at work....? I even tried to drink a coffee today...ok...not a coffee...but a hot chocolate with a shot of espresso. It tasted like ass. How does something that smells so good taste so bad...(coffee, not ass)? And then the glory of coffee breath after. Forget it. Doesn't do the trick for me anyway.
On my travels to Powell River on the weekend I made a point to go visit Mike and Jordyn...that is the 3rd time I have been to that house since Deanna died and I gotta say I am not sure how Mike manages. She is everywhere in that house...I cannot count the times I have desperately wanted to talk to her about something...so many unfinished stories and conversations...so much personal growth never to be shared. I am sure Mike feels the same only worse. I guess this is what life becomes as you get older - missing people, pining for them, stewing in loss and fond memories. All the questions...funny how when someones gone suddenly there are a million questions you need answered by only them. I wish I had more time with my grandparents. Now that I am older and I see things a little differently our conversations would be very different...
Have you ever eaten out of the garbage? I did once. I was high on acid, 15 or so...we were at SeaFair in Powell River...all the rides had shut down and we were wandering around smiling that face-wrecking acid smile and we spotted an almost full cotton candy in the garbage...in about 2 nanoseconds I had made up a simple explanation as to why this cotton candy was in the garbage..some kid was being a jerk and the mom took it away and tossed it before he touched it, still in the bag...ISN'T THAT CONVENIENT FOR THIS GERMAPHOBE? Nice to know even as a teen, on acid, I was capable of an insurmountable level of denial. It tasted delicious.
My acid taking career ended abruptly at 18 in Lake Louise, AB. I have no idea why I thought that Lake Louise would be any better than Powell River but I did. [insert laugh track here] The writing was on the wall early on. On the bus ride from Vancouver to LL, Tammy (my fellow PR escapee) befriended the creepiest guy on the bus...he was on some serious drugs. He freaked me out...but Tammy managed to fall for him at some point b/c when we arrived in LL he got off the damn bus with us and tagged along to the staff housing we were going to be living in. He and Tammy left LL less than a week later (I think?) for Calgary...so I was there solo. (NOTE: I am not bitter about it at all b/c I deserved it for that time I punched her in the face at the Metallica concert while she had a bandaged hand from almost cutting her finger off with a meat slicer. I earned that abandonment.)
Lake Louise was a cesspool of nothing. Everyone there worked at one of the hotels...the pay sucked and all there was to do was drink and do acid. Oh and the work was hard...cleaning rooms is ball dragging agony. I never did that job again after that stint. Anyway, back to the drugs. That was the summer of acid. On the phone with my granny early on she made a point to say she did not think I would last the summer there. It was a valid opinion...I had just graduated, I knew nothing about working, budgeting, zip. I was flying by the seat of my pants...and I was not prepared...clueless is an understatement. I was determined to ensure I lasted the summer in that shit hole place just to prove her wrong.
The level of drama and stupidity was epic. It was crazy...I lost my virginity that summer...to get it over with...I picked the night, the guy (and here begins the Englishman trend), etc...and it was surreal...but not in a good way. Listen up guys...if a girl tells you she "was" a virgin DO NOT ARGUE WITH HER. Just b/c the sheets aren't covered in blood and she did not shout from the hymen snapping pain doesn't mean she is making it up for conversations sake. Like seriously, who the fuck does that...? The whole post-coital chat went sideways when I brought up that maybe the real problem was the fact he was hung like a toddler. This was the beginning of my extremely ridiculous sex life. Fuckin' great.
Other drama...1) I punched a girl so hard her contacts flew out of her head...I would then be spotted later crawling around on the floor with her looking for them. 2) Had the hots for some guy named Rob who was with someone named Tanya - yeah, that was smart. 3) Developed a weird friendship with a guy named John from Windsor, ON (I recall this b/c he always made reference the fact they made salt there). He was quite a bit older than me...he had a wife and a buncha kids back home...which at 18 was really weird. I never slept with him or anything, I think I was using him a life raft honestly, he was really quite kind to me and not in a creeper way...I think he was attempting to not be a dirtbag...valiant effort I say. I don't think I was able to find him before I left...there was an air of desperation to say goodbye and it never happened.
4) Made the mistake of hearing ppl have sex while on acid. This is such a terrible idea I cannot think of a word to even describe the level of fucked it was - I was up all night tripping the hell out, didn't make it to work, meaning I was immediately fired and had 24 hrs to vacate. I called my mom...left out the acid part and she drove from Lacombe, AB to LL in her car to pick me and my crap up...which is probably one of the nicer things shes ever done for me.
But guess what? I made it the whole summer...put that in your pipe and smoke it Granny.
I am kinda glad I was too stoned or drunk to remember anyone's last name from that summer.
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| RIP Deanna xo |
Have you ever eaten out of the garbage? I did once. I was high on acid, 15 or so...we were at SeaFair in Powell River...all the rides had shut down and we were wandering around smiling that face-wrecking acid smile and we spotted an almost full cotton candy in the garbage...in about 2 nanoseconds I had made up a simple explanation as to why this cotton candy was in the garbage..some kid was being a jerk and the mom took it away and tossed it before he touched it, still in the bag...ISN'T THAT CONVENIENT FOR THIS GERMAPHOBE? Nice to know even as a teen, on acid, I was capable of an insurmountable level of denial. It tasted delicious.My acid taking career ended abruptly at 18 in Lake Louise, AB. I have no idea why I thought that Lake Louise would be any better than Powell River but I did. [insert laugh track here] The writing was on the wall early on. On the bus ride from Vancouver to LL, Tammy (my fellow PR escapee) befriended the creepiest guy on the bus...he was on some serious drugs. He freaked me out...but Tammy managed to fall for him at some point b/c when we arrived in LL he got off the damn bus with us and tagged along to the staff housing we were going to be living in. He and Tammy left LL less than a week later (I think?) for Calgary...so I was there solo. (NOTE: I am not bitter about it at all b/c I deserved it for that time I punched her in the face at the Metallica concert while she had a bandaged hand from almost cutting her finger off with a meat slicer. I earned that abandonment.)
Lake Louise was a cesspool of nothing. Everyone there worked at one of the hotels...the pay sucked and all there was to do was drink and do acid. Oh and the work was hard...cleaning rooms is ball dragging agony. I never did that job again after that stint. Anyway, back to the drugs. That was the summer of acid. On the phone with my granny early on she made a point to say she did not think I would last the summer there. It was a valid opinion...I had just graduated, I knew nothing about working, budgeting, zip. I was flying by the seat of my pants...and I was not prepared...clueless is an understatement. I was determined to ensure I lasted the summer in that shit hole place just to prove her wrong.
Other drama...1) I punched a girl so hard her contacts flew out of her head...I would then be spotted later crawling around on the floor with her looking for them. 2) Had the hots for some guy named Rob who was with someone named Tanya - yeah, that was smart. 3) Developed a weird friendship with a guy named John from Windsor, ON (I recall this b/c he always made reference the fact they made salt there). He was quite a bit older than me...he had a wife and a buncha kids back home...which at 18 was really weird. I never slept with him or anything, I think I was using him a life raft honestly, he was really quite kind to me and not in a creeper way...I think he was attempting to not be a dirtbag...valiant effort I say. I don't think I was able to find him before I left...there was an air of desperation to say goodbye and it never happened.4) Made the mistake of hearing ppl have sex while on acid. This is such a terrible idea I cannot think of a word to even describe the level of fucked it was - I was up all night tripping the hell out, didn't make it to work, meaning I was immediately fired and had 24 hrs to vacate. I called my mom...left out the acid part and she drove from Lacombe, AB to LL in her car to pick me and my crap up...which is probably one of the nicer things shes ever done for me.
But guess what? I made it the whole summer...put that in your pipe and smoke it Granny.
I am kinda glad I was too stoned or drunk to remember anyone's last name from that summer.