I am so into this, but I would be super concerned about having my shoulder pulled out or something from some faulty rope-placement. I’d like to fancy myself the (very) amateur engineering type, so I’d probably micro-manage the shit out of anyone attempting to do this to me.
smoking
Oh, hi, new best friend.
The Holiday Party, Part 7
Ren soon came upstairs to add some levity to Noodlegirl’s date breathing down my neck and we all wound up having a nice smoke together. The issue of my host’s sexuality was settled: he’s straight! We all had a good laugh about it as Ren struggled between apologizing and dying of laughter over the situation.
Eventually, Noodlegirl’s date tried to drag her away, but she made him wait so she could write down her information for me and hand it over. I gave her a long hug and flashed him a million-dollar smile over her shoulder. Because you don’t screw around with us crazy ritualistic lesbians.
After they left, Ren looked over to me and said, “so, Septum’s asleep in my bed right now. You want to come downstairs and handle these munchies?”
It was an evening well-spent.
The Holiday Party, Part 5
“I have to use the bathroom,” Noodlegirl exclaimed during some point during the night. However, we found the place occupied by someone puking.
I thought for a minute, “the gay guys upstairs! Let’s go use their bathroom."
Up the stairs we went, giggling the whole way. She put her arm around me while I knocked on the door and we were greeted by a very nice-looking young man as we chuckled and smiled at each other. He let us through to use the bathroom and was just incredibly welcoming.
As Noodlegirl was using the bathroom, I sat down with him on his couch and introduced myself. Suddenly, I noticed it, "is that a bong?” There, on his table, was a giant packed bong. Clearly, he had been intending on smoking that evening.
“Yep. You want some?”
So, maybe I’m the kind of person who would’ve probably taken some candy from strangers as a child, but I started smoking him. And, after she left the bathroom, Noodlegirl soon joined us, claiming she smoked a bunch.
We all got to talking and laughing when I got to my feet and walked around his apartment. I noticed a copy of one of my favorite books in his bookshelf and we started discussing it. Then, from there, our host asked, “so, um, could I ask your advice on something?”
Cue Ivy giving some dating advice to a stranger who she thought was gay, but was suddenly asking about girls. However, I was too high to notice.
But, I did notice that Noodlegirl had just gotten way too high. And that’s when my phone rang. It was Ren.
“Ivy? Where are you and Noodlegirl? Her date is freaking out.”
“Youth is the only sexy tragedy. It’s James Dean jumping into his Porsche Spyder, it’s Marilyn heading off to bed.” – Michael Cunningham, By Nightfall.
I’ve decided to stop using marijuana to self-medicate. And, by that I mean, I’m not going to use “I’ve been so stressed” as justification for letting my friends smoke me out. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t smoke every day and I don’t mean to say I’m quitting pot. But, a vice is a vice is a vice, and I’d rather it’s a fun vice than a substitute for facing my stress head-on.
Beauty and the Long Bong.
Followers: Suddenly, there’s a ton more of you. I don’t even know how to begin to understand this. It’s unnatural. Did I accidentally post up a nude of myself or something on here? (Tumblr followers tend to spike for people after posting photos such as those, I’ve noticed.)
Seriously, where did you all come from?
And even more seriously, welcome. Thank you for following me and my story. It’s nice to have you all around.
That guy from my frat. I still haven’t named him. I promise, I’ll get around to it. I just can’t figure it out.
Somehow, later on in the evening, he and I wound up separated from the rest of our friends, smoking a joint and talking. I simultaneously impress and scare myself sometimes when I consider how natural inhaling has gotten for me, especially since I don’t smoke tobacco. I have a lot of things about myself that leave that sort of impression. One of those things is my bravado, which it appears he’ll never see the bottom of.
I just have fun being a little mean to him. I made him wait outside of a crowded ladies room for me to stand in line for a stall then fix my hair and makeup just to get a dance with me. I tease mercilessly. It’s just bad.
So, I decided to be kind and gentle when we were alone. Because ever since I was a kid I’ve been told I intimidate the opposite sex for one reason or another. And, because I didn’t want to completely crack the poor boy’s ego to bits; he’s a nice guy.
Of course, I still bullied a bit. He has a long-distance girlfriend from back home and, when pressed about the terms of his relationship, he gets a little evasive. This is something called a red flag in my book. So, finally, I poked, “what’s going on with your lady then, Mr. Fidelity?”
“We’re trying,” he shrugged.
“Trying what?” I asked.
“Trying,” he sighed, “but she has a different definition of fidelity than I did.”
“And what’s that?” I pried.
After all the assumptions I’d made about him being the one making some poor little unknowing girlfriend cry and get into polyamory, he was the one who had been cheated on. I felt a little bad for all the mocking I’d done. Poor kid had his heart broken and was just trying to salvage something. How could I tease?
Our conversation jumped around a bit before I formally apologized a second time. It wasn’t my fault, he repeated. He brushed some ash from my joint off of my thigh. “I don’t know how to ash stuff,” I admitted, “I don’t know how to flick it right. I was really lame in high school. And boring.”
“You’re not lame anymore,” he smiled.
We went and grabbed some 3 am munchie-medicine-food afterwards. I think we’re going to be friends. For real.
Currently hammering in some nails in my room. I swear I can handle this, guys.