Getting Stoned.

Today was an interesting day.  I woke up at 8am, and then went to the studio a couple hours later after blogging, showering, and getting ready. So I walk to my “section” of the studio, and no one is there. I hate it when that happens. I get stuck up there all alone L. The good thing about that though, is that I work much more efficiently that way. I managed to finish exactly on time, and ran to class with my finished product. 

Later that day, I met up with my group, worked on a project for a couple of hours.

At 7:15, I realized that if I wanted to get anything done tonight, I’m going to have to buy a T-square triangle. Since Utrecht Art Supply closes at 8, I rushed and managed to get everything I needed (and some that I just wanted), take a short walk around the city, and took the subway back to school. I arrived to school at 9, chatted with some of my friends, and when I finally decided to get started, I look at what I bought and my fucking T-square was MISSING! They did it again. Last time, they didn’t put my sketchpad, and gave me the bag without it. I had to ask him to give me my sketchpad. The salesman was all apologetic, but now that it has happened again, I think it’s intentionally done! I seriously believe that. Mother fuckers! I’m going to be there at 8am tomorrow morning, demanding my ruler! 

Okay, so for the more interesting part. Everyone that knows me, knows that I’m a good kid. I don’t smoke, drink or do drugs (I know, I know, boring right?). I’m friendly and nice. Today though, I really wanted to do something that wouldn’t have made my mother proud (more like give her a heart attack). I stayed and watched one of my classmates (who’s excessive use of the word “son” made me laugh since I am three frikin years older than he was) as he worked on his project. He always has the best projects. So, he keeps saying how he was going to “partay” tonight, and then asked me if I partied much. I told him I didn’t, and when he asked me what kind of beer I liked, I told him that I didn’t drink alcohol. I was surprised when he said that he didn’t drink either. It turns out his stomach was too sensitive, and he can’t drink at all, which is why he did pot. It’s weird how people in the states talk so freely about it, especially since it’s illegal. His explanation though, was that his way of being “intoxicated” in parties was by getting high. He was telling me the prices of pot (he sells it) and it was crazy!! That’s why American college students never eat out. They spend all their money on booze and crack. 

We left the studio together, and in the elevator, he told me that he wanted to get me stoned (I guess that’s his way of being friendly). All of a sudden my hands become extremely cold and I start shivering slightly. Is that what peer pressure feels like? Maybe it’s the fact that I have been wanting to try it since the beginning of the semester, and feeling guilty about feeling that way?  Maybe it’s because I don’t know what will happen to me if my friends find out (I’d tell my close friends if I ever did anything out of the ordinary) or my mother… My mother. :/. I don’t want her to be disappointed in me.  I usually ask her before I do anything “different”. She almost never says no to anything. Ugh. I feel so guilty right now just for considering it.

Anyway, before I forget where I was going with this, I’m going to continue. We said our goodbyes and split ways and I headed to the subway. I meet there, two black girls that were actually friendly (you don’t see that much, they are usually full of attitude). We start talking about school, and they ask me where I’m from. As soon as they heard the word Kuwait, one of them was like “ma boyfriend was there for a month before goin to Iraq.”

We get friendly, and just talk about this and that, waiting for the subway. So I asked them if they ever smoked pot. For some reason they just started laughing at me. They thought I was joking. When they saw that my expression was still serious, they’re like “ who da fuck told you ta smoke pot?”

“Just someone from my studio”

“nuh uuuh maan, don do it, not everybody doin crack”

“Thank you, I wanted someone to tell me not to. Phew”

“You mean to tail me you never tried dat shit”

“No, I think it’s just an American thing” and they start laughing at me again!! : S. The things I have to put up with! I know that pot isn’t really as bad or as serious as heroin or cocaine, so I don’t see the big deal. My mom doesn’t know that though, and we have a very honest relationship. I still have a bad feeling about trying it. I don’t think I will.