Anonymous asked: describe your first experience getting high

It was May of my Sophomore year. The night before I had agreed to smoke on the first night of Summer. I was with Ballie at the Frankel Residence. I used a two to three footer, clear glass bong with a few perks. Mario and Jeremy were there.

Ballie had been trying to persuade me to smoke for months. I was dating Harry, which of course should have been influence enough.

I don’t really remember what the Weed was like or how quickly we got high. I know we ate ridiculous amounts of this bar mix stuff that A had in her cupboard. And I think we might have watched 18 year old virgin.

To tell you the truth, I don’t really remember much of it. It wasn’t too memorable. But it was fun. :)

Tell me about your first time. :)

ohmygodyourskinissoft asked: Whats the most heart breaking thing you've had to do?

Honestly, falling out of love is the hardest thing I think I’ve experienced. I’ve experienced a lot emotionally. Deaths, cancer, the list goes on. But falling out of love is definitely the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

ohmygodyourskinissoft asked: tell me a story about a crazy night.

I woke up at nine AM last Saturday to a text message from Jim T. saying, “hey! Wanna go to Edward Sharpe tonight?” Of course we went. After a delicious hamburger dinner, Jim and I went to the bowl totally blazed out on some dank OC Headband.

A mutual friend of ours was having a party which we were missing in exchange for some dank folk rock tunes. We decided to inquire as to the temperament of the party. (were there a lot of people? Not enough booze?, etc.) Ben responded with a very unexpected “To be completely honest, dude,… This party is really awesome.”

So of course, we made the one hour drive up the canyon to a desolate area just hundreds of feet from the Lompoc border. We parked our car and stepped out into the farm hosting Woodstack 2012. The trees were strung with Christmas lights and beautiful decorative bottles. Tables were set with vases bursting with the bright yellows of beautiful sunflowers and feasts for dozens of Dionysian musicians and their friends.

Jim and I decided upon arriving that we were far too sober for the hazy occasion. Standing in the master bedroom of the family farm, I subtlety inquired as to whether or not he possessed a certain four-letter psychedelic chemical compound. It turns out, dear readers, that he did possesses said chemical.

We ingested the blotter orally.

And then. Shit got weird.

I felt as if I had put my lips to a nitrox canister and inhaled. My veins buzzed with a weird chemical electricity. I was excited by the most mundane subjects and intoxicated by the most reserved of gestures. I bummed several drags and swallowed several mouthful from a paper bag so properly labeled, “not booze.”

Jim and I returned to the Spacetrain around five am, wrapped our bug-bitten limbs in heavy sleeping bags, and passed out.

Several hours later, I rose to the blinding early morning sun pouring in from every direction, and quickly raising the heat within the minivan.

It was only when I stepped out of the minivan that I realized I was still under the influence of the psychedelic from the night before. Sunday was awesome. I danced around the farm in an optimistic haze. Everything was lovely.

My blood felt very chemically, as if whatever compounds still floating through my blood stream were beginning to stagnate.

I spent the entire morning drifting between slacklining, smoking, and a sorry attempt to not consume my body weight in tri-tip sandwiches.

At four, it was time to leave. I had a shift at work awaiting me. And believe me, the hangover was not a fun one. It was probably the worst come-down I’ve ever experienced.

Experience rating: 9/10
Would I do it again? Definitely.
Would I recommend it? Yes.