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But then I got high...
05 April, 2002 :: 6:06 a.m.

I was looking through my notebook where I write down ideas I want to get into my diary at some point. A long while back I wrote in there that I should talk about the first time I really got high.

It was the fist semester of school, Pat fell in with a crowd that liked to smoke pot quite a bit. He kept telling me that I had to smoke with them and I finally figured what the hell... The first time wasn't very exciting and I didn't get high. Pat, Gordon and myself all took a drive. I took them out along some back roads that few people ever use and we finally found a good spot. We weren't very sophisticated so we settled for a dented soda can with holes pricked in it. We sat there taking hits off this little bud of pot through this soda can. Nothing really happened for me by the time it was gone...just a tingly, tight feeling scalp. The next time was in the dorm with Pat and this little tiny joint that we each took a few hits off of, then I ate the roach and went to class...again just a mild tingle. I was really not seeing what people see in pot. Then it finally happened...

One night after a fantastic excursion to what we then referred to as the "entertainment complex" and now refer to as the "research center" we went back to the dorm. I can't remember whether Pat had rolled the joint already or whether he did it then, but it isn't really important. We began passing it back and forth taking hits off of it and exhaling through a toilet paper roll stuffed with a dryer sheet. I realized that I needed to call Char and talk to her and tell her that I'd be home in a while. Char was not one for smoking pot, so I left that part out. I was talking to her and taking hits and talking to her some more. Suddenly I realized I felt a bit different.

I looked down at my feet and there was this strange glow emanating from them. Like this golden light just emanating a few inches around them. "That's odd," I thought. Then I realized, "Oh shit! This is actually getting to me this time! I need to get off the phone!" I couldn't get off the phone though. Char and I kept talking, actually she did most of it. I was using all my powers of concentration to say, "Uh huh," or "Yeah." Suddenly I realized it felt like we'd been on the phone for hours. I then realized that when I did say something that about half way through whatever I was saying, I wasn't sure what I'd already said. I couldn't concentrate long enough to say a couple of sentences. I started getting really paranoid that I was being obvious about the fact that I was high.

Then I noticed another fun thing. When Char spoke, I could see all of her words floating in front of me like in a cartoon where the musical notes float through the air. Wow!! The bad thing was that when she finished what she was saying, even though I'd seen every word, I couldn't string them together into a sentence that meant anything to me. It was amazing and scary at the same time. This is why I ended up with a lot of "Yeahs," or "Uh huhs."

As I looked around the room, the whole entire room was slowly spinning counter-clockwise. Very, very slow, but steady rotation. "That's kind of neat too," I thought. And every object I looked at had that glow around it. Like I could see the energy that everything gives off. I finally told Char I'd be home in an hour or so and got off the least I'm pretty sure that's what I said.

I began immediately to freak out on Pat about how I had to get home and I couldn't because everything was so fucking weird! How was I going to get home and act normal around Char with weird lights and rotating rooms and words hanging in the air? I could see Pat's words floating in the air briefly, but I think the adrenaline rush of trying to figure out how I was going to handle this got in the way of that because it ended rather quickly and I could focus on him telling me that things would be fine. Little did I know things'd get freakier before they got normal again...

I went into the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face to help me focus. Oh neat! When I stick my hands out to turn on the faucets, my forearms and hands are disconnected from my body! They are just floating out there in space, but they still do what I want them too. Odd. So this didn't exactly help to calm me down. Maybe we should go outside Pat suggested.

I couldn't get in the elevator--too paranoid that someone would be able to smell the pot on me. We took to the stairs instead. Pat kept assuring me that I was fine, but I didn't think I'd be able to walk down six flights of stairs. Pat assured me that I was walking normal. I responded to this by bringing my knees up to my chest and marching down the stairs asking, "Is this fucking NORMAL?!" He assured me that at that point I was just being an ass and it was just in my mind that I wasn't acting normal. So we made it down the stairs and who do we see walking towards us but an R.A. in an orange security shirt doing his rounds...

Pat suggested I get a drink because I didn't think I could walk by him normally. I bend over and drink from the water fountain for what felt like forever and finally pop up and ask Pat, "Is he gone?" Pat responds with a grimmace and a nod of his head behind me...the R.A. is there tying his shoe right behind me! Shit! But he didn't do anything, just went on his way while we headed for the door.

We walked around a few minutes and then I was feeling a little more calm...until I walked to my car with the idea that I was going home. I'd heard from all these people about how pot makes them better drivers (uh huh, just like the alcoholic that thinks he/she drives better after drinking...we've all heard this before)--BULLSHIT! The condition I was in, with my arms still detaching from my body if I held them the hell was I going to drive home? I already told Char that I'd be home soon.

Pat to the rescue...he suggests we go upstairs and he'll call Char. He'll tell her that he went to take a shower and when he got back to the room I was sound asleep and he couldn't wake me. I work third shift and don't sleep much usually on my days off so I can get tired enough to pass out and be unwakeable so this should work fine. SO we head back toward the dorm...

My favorite memory of the evening--we're walking up the hill toward the door and there are some people walking up the sidewalk toward the door at the same time. Pat is talking to me about how I just need to concentrate and act normal and everything'll be fine only to discover that I've stopped midstep...he turns and I say somewhat loudly, "Oh shit! People!" Totally normal behavior for someone who doesn't have anything to hide. Back down the hill toward the street we go to wait for these people to get inside and to wherever they're going.

Finally we get back to the room and Pat places the call to Char while I lay on the bed trying to concentrate on not making any noise. Everything seems to be going well, but then Pat feels the need to explain too much and I remember him ending the call with, "He'll be in contact with you soon." Who the hell says, be in contact with you? I'd have to deal with that in the morning when I got home...

I then layed there on my cot assuring Pat there was no way I could get to sleep with things being so strange. He told me just to relax and I'd get to sleep. Within a couple minutes, despite my being sure I was going to be up all night, I was sound asleep.

Now, for any of you that smoke pot, you might be thinking, "Detached arms? Halos of light around things? Words floating through the air? This doesn't sound like a pot high." You are right. Pat noticed for a couple of day afterwards that he couldn't focus clearly. The pot was laced with something. After talking to Tara who had a similar experience getting high, my guess would be angel dust because that brought about some very similar side-effects for her. Oh what fun when you don't know what's in your pot.

I've had some difficulty concentrating on things when I've gotten high since then, but never anything like that night. I just had to learn not to fight the high and just flow with it...that was my problem the other times was I was trying to stay in control of everything and fighting the drug...once I let go, things were great. I also learned not to smoke when I have something to do like work because then I start to stress about whether I'll be able to function or not. But that first night getting high, for all of the miserableness I went through at the time, was a great and hillarious experience to look back on. And thank you Pat for watching after me and keeping me from doing anything dumber than what I did.

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