Busy Doing Nuthin’

When you meet three guys you accompany them back to their hotel so they can drug you.

Naturally.

I believe ABC had shown an after school special along the same theme in the 80’s but since my mother had me scheduled in all sort of activities I missed that one and found my self 20 years later hallucinating on the floor of a hotel room off Robson street.  This is yet another memorable adventure with Webdog & is pack of gap-wondered friends.

(They are originally from Saskatchewan. For those not in Canada, Sask is commonly referred to as the gap as essentially there is NOTHING THERE  and between west & eastern Canada. They didn’t even get ticket master til recent years (maybe after 2000? that’s how little anything happens there).

As I mentioned I hadn’t been able to pry myself off the couch the night following the U2 concert. I did promise with futility that I would make it out on the Friday night and after a LONG day of work, I made my way over to Kettle of Fish where I was regaled with stories and taunted for the slow dancing & kissing (which is still don’t to this day believe).

The boys told me I should take them somewhere so based on what they had done the day before, I took them to the one place I thought they’d enjoy…. The Cecil (one of Vancouver’s most famous strip bars).

Side Bar: I’m sitting in my client’s office today, a vice president of a financial company and there sitting right in the corner of his desk is a VIP pass to the Cecil. I may have laughed except for the fact he is an overweight, unattractive oaf whom you know pays ‘ladies’ to keep him company. I pulled all the vomit back down my throat & tried to concentrate on my meeting.

They have renovated that place & I have to say it is weird. They are trying to make it more of a dance club (granted the dancers wear lingerie and take them off if you toss loonies at them). We stayed for a couple of shows & decided that was enough boobies for one nite & headed to Yaletown Brew Pub however this still didn’t seem to settle them down. I tried to ply them with shooters but to no avail, they were not content. NO… they wanted to go back to the room. You see, they had been shopping in gastown & for the weed fiends a couple of them were, being in BC has it’s advantages.

So I agreed to go with them. They were totally harmless. As we were making our way back they started to ask if I was going to try Salvia.

Salvia?

Yes.. Salvia.. It’s legal they just bought it that day.

um… ok?

We go to the room. Everyone who wanted to, had their weed. I looked at Webdog & said, I will try this Salvia if you do it because I don’t want to be on my own wave length & then get paranoid that everyone thinks I’m weird.

He agrees & Mur packs the bong with Salvia.

Now it should be here where I mention that Ferris Bueller’s Day off is on the television & we are at the part where Jenny is at the police station talking to Charlie Sheen. This is important so keep that in mind because this is when Mur walks over to me so I can take a hit off the bong.

Now first of all.. I’ve never taken a hit off a bong. So I’m worried that it won’t work. Secondly, I’m thinking whatever, who cares? It’s legal….. and I think it…. “how bad could it be?” Famous… FAMOUS last words because as before I could finish exhaling the smoke from my mouth, did I get sucked into the seam of the carpet.

I got sucked into the carpet & the room became a diorama of sorts & no one I knew was around me. The bustle that was going on outside on Robson street was life as I knew it & I was leaving that dimension. I was entering this new one with these 3 strangers who were to become my new family. How would this happen? Well, you see.. the reason I was sucked into the carpet was because I was now a zipper in the fabric .. well, rather I was one of the heads of the zipper & the machine aspect of the contraption was working it’s way down to bring the 2 sides together & I had moments before the world as I knew it was going to totally end. It was though I was having a giant epiphane that we don’t die but rather we transform our energy into another form. I was trying to resist this by opening my eyes & talking but it was futile.

That when one of the other zipper pieces say to me: Don’t worry… everything is going to be ok. Which seemed to calm me as my fellow zipper head/brother said it was going to be fine. So therefore it must be. So I replied “ok, I’m just going to relax” and accepted the fact I was going to die.

This is when I came to & the first thing I did was look at the TV & Jenny is now driving her mother home from the police station. That’s how long this lasted….. only minutes! It felt like a lifetime!

And then it occurs to me that they were playing one gigantic prank on me & i start telling them that I hated them in between my fits of giggles. I could not control myself because  I am coming to & realizing that no, I’m not dying and no… I’m not a zipper (can’t decide really which part I was more relieved by). Mur escorted me to the chair. I was on the floor. Apparently I had laid down (sucked in carpet) after I had asked for something to drink. Mur had gone to the kitchen to get me a pepsi, came back, saw me on the floor & tried to calm me down by spooning me & telling me it was going to be ok. This is what calmed me down.

The thing was… I was totally embaressed. Not only because I thought i was a mechanical object but because.. well, before I took the hit, I had a striking urge to pee. I thought.. I’ll do the hit & then go to the bathroom because, well, if it was like weed, I would still be able to function!!! No.

Didn’t happen.

No.. rather, my thought process was, if I’m going to die, why would I hold my bladder?

When I told everyone I was ‘just going to relax’ I was worried I really did. The cold sweat that I had accumulated didn’t help me discern what was going on in my pants so I decide to feel it out. (This is one reason you shouldn’t do drugs with strangers, you can’t come to & ask: hey! did I wet myself?) So I say: “I have to go to the bathroom, but it would be weird if I did.”

Finally a comment comes from the couch from Benjamin. He is cradling his head in his hands and avoiding looking at me.  He awkwardly peeked thru his fingers to reply, “It would be weirder if you didn’t”.

This confirmed my worst fears….. I urinated. I urinated all over the floor. They dismissed the notion of me doing anything stupid while I was hallucinating  so I sheepishly walk to the bathroom & well, no…. No I did not but I was in one hell of a cold sweat.

I asked about 8 more times if I did anything stupid. They adamantly refuted I did anything dumb. I only went and laid on the floor.

When it was time to go home, Webdog was worried about me walking home. I was more worried about me going to sleep that night. At that point the only thing scarier then the west end at 3am was my subconscious.

In fear of sleeping, I went straight to wikipedia & found the following:

Psychedelic experiences are necessarily somewhat subjective and variations in reported effects are to be expected. Aside from individual reported experiences there has been a limited amount of published work summarising the effects. D.M. Turner’s book Salvinorin—The Psychedelic Essence of Salvia Divinorum quotes Daniel Siebert’s summarisation, mentioning that the effects may include:^[67

• Uncontrollable laughter
• Past memories, such as revisiting places from childhood memory
• Sensations of motion, or being pulled or twisted by forces
• Visions of membranes, films and various two-dimensional surfaces
• Merging with or becoming objects
• Overlapping realities, such as the perception of being in several locations at once

Ok.. check to all of the above…

and then another site goes on to say:

Guidelines

Salvia can produce a very unique, mind-altering experience. Therefore it is extremely important to choose the right time and place before using it. Make sure you are in a safe and private place with people you know well. Choose your dose without underestimating the powerful effects salvia may cause. After taking the salvia, lie down on a couch or bed for the duration of the experience and close your eyes.

If you are new to salvia or if you are taking a high dose, always make sure a sitter is present. There is a risk of a person losing awareness. A sitter should be sober and supportive, and preferably have some experience with salvia. His role is to keep you from hurting yourself or others, without interfering too much in the experience. He should also reassure you when you feel dissociated or disoriented. Finally, a sitter can also helpful in recalling the experience afterwards.

Other risks

Do not use salvia when dangerous objects (knifes etc.) are within easy reach. Do not drive when or directly after taking Salvia divinorum. Use your common sense.

Pregnant or breast-feeding women should not take any substance except on medical advice. We strongly recommend that any woman who could possibly be pregnant NOT use salvia. Salvia should not be given to minors, mentally unstable or violent people.

Awesome. So much for thinking that nothing legal would f me up to much. The boys woke up the next day & looked at the packaging (there’s something I want to design for) and it clearly states: not for first time users!!! In between their laughter… they apparently felt bad. I had the last laugh when I sent the redneck boys to the Elbow Room for breakfast. I wanted them to see how it felt to be bent over for a little while.

Which former television president is trying to win Nanz back by revealing in a telephone conversation that the one thing he regret is that he never got the chance to “BRAID HER HAIR!”

it’s true

He then waited a full 24 seconds before continuing “I know how to do a 3 strand! I’ve done that to my daughters………. I can also do pig tails.”

I don’t even think this needs commentary. It’s all so ……………….. wrong

So Webdog was in town this weekend. Oh what? who’s Webdog?  Yes, perhaps before I embark on the Who What When Where & Why I should pull you back to a time in October when U2 was in Vancouver.

Like any typical Wednesday, I had procrastinated til about 2pm and decided that in a flurry I should start my work when I get a text from KLZ. She had sent out a text asking her friends… ‘anyone up for the concert tonight?’

I immediately respond as anyone who has known me long enough, knows that U2 is my favourite band & I have seen them in concert 3x already.

I tell her I am in and ask where the seats are, & how much they are.  Finally, I realized that perhaps I should ask who I’m going to the concert with. She told me it wasn’t her but rather in place of her. I first assumed I would be going with her boyfriend & his friends because otherwise she would have just said one of our mutual friends.

What happened was that I was to go with her friends from Manitoba. I hesitated a moment & figured.. meh. I’m going to see U2 & Black Eyed Peas! If these friends suck, I will just sit at the end of the row & ignore them. There’s 7 of them and one of me. hey have each other to entertain.

The only snag was that I had a 645 am meeting the next morning & 2 presentations still to prepare for it and it is nearing 4pm. So I quickly finish what I’m doing & bust it up to Joe Fortes to meet the group for a beer, exchange money for the ticket & head home to prepare my speeches. This way, no one is waiting for me before the concert started.

I show up and KLZ is sitting with the guys (Webdog, Benj, EO, Murray amongst a few others. These are the key players in this little story) and they all seemed harmless enough. Even a bit too much on the nerdy side for my liking. However, I had my beer, met the guys & went on my way but not before stopping by the liquor store for a bottle of wine. If there is anything I don’t like, is being behind in the drunk category.

So I write my speeches verbatim, throw back 3/4 of the bottle and made it to the concert with minutes to spare before BEP make their way on the stage. Web & Benj weren’t at the seats. So I sat at the end next to Murray when he informs me they have 2 pop bottles filled with Vodka so I should go grab some pop. So I grab a huge glass of coke & a beer. (I am not new & realize that vodka will be gone within minutes with 8 people in the row and a smart drinker will have a back up).

I had passed Web & Benj on my way to the concession & noticed when I got back the seating arrangement has been moved around and I’m now situated between EO & Web. The concert began & it was awesome. Seats were ok. We were in the lower bowl behind the stage. Was happy to report KLZ’s friends were the dancing kind of spectators so it made up for looking at Fergie’s back. Between sets, we all realize, yes the vodka is gone, we will need a couple of more beers.

Now, anyone that has been to a stadium can understand what a stadium beer is like.  It is on tap and not just just that but taps that are questionably clean. So I’m getting not 1 but 2 (hey! hour and half show!) watered down murky canadian beer. (as they say in Big Daddy, that stuff’s like moonshine!) U2 took to the stage & honestly it flew by. It flew by so much that it ended & I was wondering if that was it. Why did it seem so short? Why do I seem so drunk?

We exit BC Place & find that the swarms of people have split us all up. I’m stuck with Webdog who is now continuously asking if I will make out with him. Much to his dismay… no. No I won’t. His friends are calling on his cell & I’m frantically looking for them in the rain as I want to drop this guy off & make it home to sleep….but the group is at Doolins. Great. We’re still 8 blocks away. We get there, sit down & was about to order a beer when someone asks if I was ready for my meeting in the morning… CRAP! it’s 12:30! I have to be up in 5 hours. So I bolted.

I woke up not still drunk but hammered & I’m sweating so hard that  I started the water/coffee/water mission. I made it through the meeting with flying colours (next stop rehab.. I jut realized how bad this all sounds).

I always flaunt how because I work for myself, that I can wear my pjamas and can take naps. Except there is no rest for the wicked. I had a morning of meetings & didn’t make it back to my computer until 1pm followed by a solid 6 hours that when 7 rolled around and the boys phoned to see if I wanted to come out to the roxy, I didn’t hesitate to ask: are you f’n crzy?

No.. they were not. They were on vacation. EO was complaining that it was his last nite in Van & it would be really nice if I came out because I as he put it.. they enjoyed my company.

I promised I would take a nap & re evaluate. To no avail did I make it off the couch. I did have an interesting fight with the pizza delivery guy but I did not leave my apartment. So they had to party without me. I did promise that I would make it out Friday night…. and after another long & crazy day (however, less nervous sweating) I met up with them for a nice dinner at Kettle of Fish. (Lived 8 years downtown & had never been to that restaurant.)

It is here where Web asks if I remember dancing with him. I look at him with puzzlement. He tells me that during ‘One’ we supposedly were slow dancing in the aisle. He then corrected himself.

Apparently, at firstt he was hugging himself,  dancing and winging himself side to side. So much so that he  pushed EO out of the way & then began slow dancing with me. THIS… this is vague. This may also be the reason I thought the concert was rather short. I don’t remember the concert. I vaguely remember the dancing to ‘One’ as that is my favourite song so it doesn’t surprise me. What I do recall was putting my arm around his waist and my head on his shoulder.

His friends then chirped in that it didn’t end there but  that we also made out.

Ok ok ok……. no. No way. THAT I would remember. I have been in many many states before when I have made out with boys. In the rain, against a pole, on the dance floor, against a door, on a sidewalk what have you. Sober, buzzed, sloppy… and they all have one thing in common. I remember it.

So I refute this claim. To which they argue. They argue that EO (who according to them, is their group’s town crier & accurate fact based source) saw this with his own eyes (as opposed to the fake ones I had?) and could give the story with details.

This was their argument.

I argued the following…. Why would I make out with someone one time & then later on presented with the possibility of a second make out then deny him?

I hold by my statement. I also wouldn’t have made out with him at a concert in the aisle in front of everyone for the sheer fact that it was tacky and I try to not be tacky. Classy? Always.. take me everywhere. but tacky? no.

Additionally, if there were 7 of them there, why is it only 1 of them that saw this occurrance?

Yes…. I rest my case. I then spent the rest of the evening refuting & denying any advances from the webdog in fear it would reignite the whole make out debate. I do this of course in throughout the classy venues I took them to… You know, the Cecil. (see… told you: classy)

I may be fuzzy but I would like to think, if someone kissed me……. they’d remember.

I realized this morning that over the years I have said many many many things.. Most of which are well, just plain wrong. (They don’t run fast.. they don’t jump high.. in regards to watching the special olympics) and after careful review, i realize that I have done many unacceptable things in my day to day (kicking an old lady in the head for example). So really there are no ifs, ands or buts about it……. I’m going to hell. In a handbasket.

Now I ask you.. wtf is a handbasket & why is this so much more dasterdly then a regular basket? Is it possibly because the basket is made of wicker and then will incinerate upon entry? Perhaps a handbasket has kindling igniting sparks a plenty? or is it that it’s just plain uncomfortable & let’s face it if you are eternally damned you ain’t gonna be sitting on a bed of feathers.

This is what is plaguing me today. Perhaps I should prorogue this blog. (just wanted to use that in a sentence. I realize no one reads this any longer & so pausing anything would be moot).

and scene

Girl’s Nights are great for many things. For seeing friends, for drinking wine & for catching up on all that everyone has been up to regardless if they were in the room or not.

With that being said it wasn’t too long after the booze started flowing that we gained ground on who was seeing whom, who was sleeping with whom (no one) and who we should never go out with. Most of our stories are what I like to call not quites. You know those stories. You go out one nite with your friends, you meet a cute boy in the room and you start to chat. You get around to exchanging information but …. not quite. Why? because he’s said something stupid.

However, more & more often I’m finding it’s not that they say something stupid it’s that they look at you like YOU’RE stupid.. Why? Because we’re old. We’re of a different a generation. We’re of a generation that can remember dial phones, lived through answering machines & saw the rise of the brick cell phone & whitttle down to a pocket sized version that is smaller then my compact which led to texting to blackberries & iphones and of course the rise of email, internet, social media and of course…. facebook (my best friend).

Case in point, I was out the night before Halloween & a pub crawl walked into the pub i was at & I started talking to a wilted palm tree (had to becuase i couldn’t figure out why dude was wrapped in brown with black balloons around his head. I knew it couldn’ be phallic as what guy wants to point down?) After chatting for a few minutes, I wondered how old he is. He and his friends did look young and well, it HAS been some years since I’ve been on a pub crawl (course, I’m going on one on saturday) so I ask… how old are you? After he told me, I mentioned I was inquiring because I thought they may all be in university. (They weren’t, I just can’t remember how old he was.. 24-26?) I then I hear that horror music. You know that high pitched screech, screech, screech that happens when you’re waiting for the predator to pull back the shower curtain because sure enough, he asks me my age.

I dance around the question a little bit. I usually answer back with my standard: how old do you think I am? But for whatever ever reason I answered with. I’m not 24 (let’s go w/ that age). .. so he pressed on & I relented. I relented mostly because wtf was I going to do with a 24 year old (well, i know, but that’s for a different blog), so I say… 34. He not only looked horrified but answered: No! .. pause… you’re not!… pause. and stared at me. He actaully stared at me like I was a carnival freak & you wonder how they got into the room. Now, I know YTB is dark inside but give me a break. I don’t look 12. You could see in his eyes that he wanted to flee but was counting out the seconds until it was appropriate for him to run away.  I let him off the hook & went back to my out of towners and finished my beer….. so, not quite.

I’m sure that won’t be the last time I see that look. Those little T-towners from Saturday didn’t make that look however, they did make fun of my phone. Yes, apparently, I’m ‘old school’… strike 1.5. (my phone is pretty budget but you gotta use something & a friend lent that to me when I needed one so it’s better then a telegraph)… aside from their pouty fat friend and their creepy behaviour………. you know what? they were never not quite. These guys were losers so strike that.

However, Shaloah mentioned her own not quite. She had been at the morrissey the other week & talking to a very cute guy. Sure enough, he was younger. Rather then ask for her number, he asked to add her on facebook.

She wondered.. is this how it is now? Is this the generational difference? I know that some of my friends have issues w/guys texting rather then calling (I personally don’t. I have a hard enough time talking to you in person let alone the phone) but now we’re creating even more distance with facebook? I may be of a different generation but there is nothing aobut facebook that would make me swoon. I’m hoping that this guy is just a nerd with no game & hope to not read to much into that.

Ok, so rather then believe that I am old (because in the scheme of things & my refusal to use eye cream, I’m not), we’re not old but perhaps.. no… could it be? Ney it’s true. I’m afraid to say but I think I’m becoming too sophisticated for some guys.

This to blows my mind. Don’t worry. The irony is NOT lost on me.