Umm...wait, what?

That's nice, isn't it? Tropical Storm Edouard is just hanging out, urinating all over my flight plans. Which is why I've oh-so-cleverly decided to start calling him "Cousin Eddie."
Go away, Cousin Eddie! Moving on...

I had a pretty good weekend. I spent most of it with Sonia. Friday night we stayed in and played Scrabble. I know. We're 85 years old. But! I managed to piggyback off her word "live," turning it into "delivery," and scored an improbable, impressive, unthinkable 126 points on a single word!! Thank you, double-triple word score!
Saturday we hung out at the swimming pool and got sunburned and drank too much. That afternoon, we went back to her place and drank some more and played Guitar Hero (did I say "85 years old?" I meant "15 years old"). Anyway, fishing through her fridge, I stumbled upon some prescription THC pills that her dad had been taking. There were about 25 left, so we decided it would be a good idea to give those a try. Now. I haven't been high in about six years. She hasn't been high in about eight years. So we were confident it would be fun for both of us, and equally effective for both of us, since neither of us were really the drug smoking type. So there we stood, holding these little spherical yellow pills in our hands. I shrugged, said "see you in Narnia!" and popped it into my mouth.

So now what? We can't just form a drum circle right off the bat. We had a few more beers, waited, watched TV, waited...uhhh....after about thirty minutes, we started to get restless. "Do you feel anything" she asked. No, not really. You? "No." Hmm...so we (we're such nerds) googled the drug and started reading about it. The official website wasn't very helpful, so we found our way to a stoner message board. The reviews were mixed, but one guy noted that he "took five of them" before anything happened. "Should we take another one?" she asked. Sure! So we took another one. Thirty minutes passed. Nothing. We took two more. An hour passed. Nothing. I took two more, she took one more. I was starting to feel drunk, but beyond that, nothing.

At this point, my stomach was starting to feel a little funny. I excused myself and went into the bathroom. Here's where I made my first mistake. I was standing there gripping the sink in front of the bathroom mirror, and I lifted my head and looked myself dead in the eye. I felt a smile start to creep onto my face. The corners of my mouth began to involuntarily curl upward. This evolved into a full-on smile. And then I let out a pinched squeak of a laugh. "Ah-geeee." Now my cheeks were starting to hurt because I was smiling so widely and I was laughing through my nose. Uh oh.

I tried to stifle my laughter, but the more I resisted, the worse it got. I poked my head around the corner to see if maybe (hopefully) Sonia had been hit by the same giggle fit that I had. She was staring ahead at the TV, straight-faced. Dammit. Then she did the worst thing imaginable -- she turned her head and looked at me. Well this just opened the floodgates. I quickly ducked back behind the wall and collapsed into a fit of laughter. "What are you doing?" I paced around trying to regain my composure. I began to sweat. I laughed and laughed and laughed at nothing in particular. Then I decided to just embrace it. So I walked out into the living room guffawing like a mad man. She smiled, "what are you laughing at?" The words exploded out of me. "I don't know! I have no idea!" So I sat on the couch and laughed some more. She laughed at me, but was a little confused about what was going on.

She kept probing and trying to understand what was so funny. Did I not occur to her that I'd just taken six THC pills?! Anyway, I kept insisting that I was laughing at nothing, and finally, she accepted it. Not five minutes later, I heard a stifled laugh. I turned my head to look at her, and she was beet red, doing everything in her power not to explode. And then it was all over. We laughed and laughed and laughed. We'd look at each other, attempt to have a conversation and then we'd start laughing again. It was fun.

Then we decided it was snacktime. Earlier in the day, we'd swung by Whole Foods to pick up the bacon candybar I'd read about on Traci's blog. Well, what better time to eat a bacon candybar than when you're high as a giraffe's ass? So we dug in. It was...salty. Kinda weird tasting. The red fire candybar was better, but they were both perfect, considering the state we were in.
One strange side-effect (beyond the uncontrollable laughter and desire to eat bacon candybars) was the surreal stretching of time. We were watching a segment on SNL (that wasn't particularly funny), and were both sitting there, slack-jawed, at how unbelievably long it was taking. Like Cheech and Chong, we turned to each other and asked, "was that segment not thirty minutes long?" Yeah. It was.

Then musical guest Spoon played "The Underdog," and the song lasted somewhere around three hours. It was awesome. Although, it made me wonder -- why in the hell would a group of stoners want to watch a jam band whose songs are already fifteen minutes long?! Wouldn't it feel like they had been playing for days?! If anything, Phish should be able to play two and a half minute songs, finish their set in twelve minutes, and their stoner fans wouldn't know the difference.

I'm flying to New York tomorrow!! Hooray!! I get in at 10:30 pm. Updates next week!