Thursday, January 13

Since a lot of my first day as twenty-one involved six hours of class starting at 9am, plus meetings and other non-hedonistic things, I took Wednesday off as my official day of celebration.

I think I had more than a dozen cosmopolitans at my birthday party on Tuesday night. We were at a sleek little bar-lounge, mostly all of my friends came out (including my gay boyfriend, who got his beau to drive them up from Toronto for an hour of Paige-celebration..!) and all in all it was a fabulous evening.

So nice that I deserved Wednesday: sleeping in, class skipping, and smoking the pot every time sobriety came lurking back.

And the pièce de résistance was a beautifully crafted massive birthday joint, which I was forced to smoke the majority of before going on a much-needed shopping trip.

If you have ever grocery shopped while stoned, you know how much of a good-slash-bad idea it is. Good because you wind up with the best food ever, and get to eat most of it in the store or on the trip home. And bad because when you wake up the next morning in a gluttonous stupor, you really have no idea what you purchased or how you're going to sustain yourself off simple stoner-friendly foods for the next week.

(And the answer to that is, usually, stay stoned for a week.)