Birthday Adventures....2 (Electric Boogaloo...)
Mr Bump
Flight Home...
I must look pretty stoned to the customs guys. My eyes are red and swollen from crying. Passengers have to pick up our bags from baggage claim and then immediately put them through another security scan before they are transferred to our next flights. I sure hope my bags make it…Dulles to Denver to San Francisco! At least these things distract me for a little while. I see several people pulled into another room for further inspection: mothers with strollers and, yes, the stoner guy in front of me. I am completely surprised when the agents smile and wave me through. At least that is a happy thing…
I wish Bong was here. I wonder where he is right now. Probably in the car on his way home…
I wish I was high… I hope my neighbor brings a joint when he picks me up…
So this is what “Limbo” feels like. It’s somewhere between the best vacation of your life and the slap-in-your-face reality that awaits at home. Right now that place is Gate D7 at Dulles Airport. Reluctantly I make my way to said gate and reluctantly I sit and wait. Ironically this is the exact gate where we reunited two weeks ago. I see our ghost-selves hugging for the first time again. I hear the echoes of the ticketing agent telling us our flight to Amsterdam is boarding now. The Smoking Lounge next to the gate mocks me, because I know they are only smoking tobacco inside. I can completely imagine a coffeeshop inside the United Red Carpet Lounge. That would be sweet. Mellow out a bit before traveling. Not that I need to mellow out. I am starting to feel waves of exhaustion after two weeks of exertion.
As another of those waves is cresting, I realize that the plane should be boarding right now, but we are all still waiting…and the plane isn’t even here yet! Tons of people queue up to change their flights. I watch them all. I decide to wait. The clock ticks on. The line dwindles to one person and I get up just to see what…or IF…anything is available: how ‘bout a DIRECT FLIGHT TO SAN FRANCISCO!!! Patience is a virtue, you know!
HOWEVER…she says they started boarding 20 minutes ago and the plane is scheduled to take off in TEN MINUTES!!! No problem…until she says I need to go to Gate D26. If you remember in a previous paragraph I mentioned that I am at Gate D7. Nineteen gates away. I suppose it is only 10 away if you account for gates on both sides of the terminal. Still… Now I gotta jam…
Strong legs from 2 weeks of walking get me to the gate in no time, much like a pre-if-it-don’t-fit-you-must-acquit OJ Simpson. Of course, I feel the sweat dripping down my back…and my breathing is a little bit elevated. The wheels on my little carry-on bag would spark if they could. Gate 26 appears quickly. Passengers are still boarding! LOTS of passengers are still boarding. There is NO WAY this aircraft is departing on time. Whatever. Direct flight home is worth waiting for a few minutes!
As luck would have it, the section boarding when I get there is my section. Basically, I ran from Gate D7 directly to my seat on Flight 975. My bag is put in the overhead bin and I buckle myself in. Six hours until we land. Probably seven hours until I am in my own bed. Alone. Now I know what Robert meant when he sang about "...goin' to California with an achin' in my heart..."
Having always been able to sleep on a plane, I quickly fall asleep as soon as we are at our cruising altitude. Memory-dreams of Mokum play in my mind. I remember being in Basjoe. Early morning. Bong and I are sitting at our table, as per usual. Secret Squirrel is at his table, as per usual. Breakfasts are consumed instantly and perfect coffees are delivered just as fast. The bong is graced with Bas Special and decorated with Spoon. Bong clears his hit, and I clear mine. When my coughing fit subsides, Bong starts filming. He is always filming. When the spins I created by coughing are manageable, I notice what is so interesting. The music overhead is playing a groovin’ beat. Behind the counter, James and Secret Squirrel are DANCING!!! (Well, James is dancing…Secret Squirrel is…well…bobbing up and down…kinda like the gopher in Caddyshack!!!) It is the best thing to see early in the morning! Happiness abounds…as a cloud of smoke is blown into my face I can no longer see Bong in front of me…instead, when the smoke clears, I am confused when I see a tray table and a TV map of the U.S. Toto, I don’t think we’re in Basjoe anymore…
Damn it.
The clock continues to tick forward as I continue to fly to an earlier time zone. Instead of dwelling on the memories of the last two weeks, I think about my little girl. I can’t wait to see her!!! (I can’t wait to get rid of the chocolates I have been carrying for two days now!)
The complementary side of the love coin will be polished with hugs and shined with kisses. See…there is always a good side…and sometimes you don’t even have to look that far to find it.
The scenes from the past two weeks, however, keep invading. As my head rolls forward when sleep once more takes over, I dream another memory again. This time, we are in our hotel room. The hotel is an old hotel, a typical Amsterdam hotel, I suppose. The bathroom is just like my Aunt’s bathroom in her old house: The entire bathroom is tiled…the toilet and shower are on opposite sides of the room, there is one floor drain under the shower head and another one in the center of the bathroom. There is no shower curtain or divider of any kind. Basically, the shower water floods the entire bathroom all the way over to the toilet. (At least the mop in the shower makes total sense now!) The drains are not very fast-moving either. Meaning if you have to use the toilet after showering (or after someone else showers), you have to step in a pool of water. Ok. You get the picture.
On this particular morning, I cannot find my toothbrush. Since I always carry (at least) two with me, it is no problem, but still a mystery. Before we depart for the day, I try to coax the pool of water to the drain. As the mop grabs the water behind the toilet, it also grabs my missing toothbrush. UGHHHHH!!! BEHIND THE TOILET!!! BOYS PEE THERE!!!! IT WAS FLOATING IN SHOWER WATER!!! DID I SAY UGHHHHH?!?!?!?!?!?! Bong is flabbergasted when I throw it away (“you can wash it off!”) …I am flabbergasted that he is flabbergasted!!!
We joke with each other a bit more and he leans down to kiss me. Just before our lips meet, the flight attendant comes on the overhead speaker and startles me out of my dream-memory. Bitch.
Eventually the lights of San Francisco can be seen through the window. It always makes me happy to see them. (…I wanna get back, to my City by the Bay…) We land without incident, and I am always amused at the people who have never landed here: the water is on both sides of the runway and they think we are landing in the bay…slays me every time…My cell is turned on and I text my neighbor and tell him I landed.
The conveyer starts and I send another text to mfbrownbear to let him know he can leave now. My bags are not lost (yay!) and, in fact are the fourth and fifth ones off the conveyer. (yay!) Perfect timing as I walk outside and see his car pull up to the curb. The airport with its weary travelers is left behind and my house is just minutes away. The familiar sites on the way home comfort my weary brain and when we pull in the driveway, I am overwhelmed with exhaustion. Well, not that bad…mfbrownbear has a loaded pipe waiting. Ahhh….just what I need…We smoke the bowl and his other roommates come out to welcome me home. We chat for a few minutes and I make my way into my house. Luvmom is there…asleep on the couch…that is until my dogs went NUTS! They wake up luvmom but not my daughter (she’s used to the noise!). I sneak in her room, give her a hug and kiss, and whisper to her that I love her. My bed awaits as I wash off the day that started overseas, in Amsterdam. I climb into bed and fall asleep before I can dwell on the empty pillow next to me.
As I drift off, I think of Dr. Seuss’s wise words and sleep happens more easily:
Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened.
I must look pretty stoned to the customs guys. My eyes are red and swollen from crying. Passengers have to pick up our bags from baggage claim and then immediately put them through another security scan before they are transferred to our next flights. I sure hope my bags make it…Dulles to Denver to San Francisco! At least these things distract me for a little while. I see several people pulled into another room for further inspection: mothers with strollers and, yes, the stoner guy in front of me. I am completely surprised when the agents smile and wave me through. At least that is a happy thing…
I wish Bong was here. I wonder where he is right now. Probably in the car on his way home…
I wish I was high… I hope my neighbor brings a joint when he picks me up…
So this is what “Limbo” feels like. It’s somewhere between the best vacation of your life and the slap-in-your-face reality that awaits at home. Right now that place is Gate D7 at Dulles Airport. Reluctantly I make my way to said gate and reluctantly I sit and wait. Ironically this is the exact gate where we reunited two weeks ago. I see our ghost-selves hugging for the first time again. I hear the echoes of the ticketing agent telling us our flight to Amsterdam is boarding now. The Smoking Lounge next to the gate mocks me, because I know they are only smoking tobacco inside. I can completely imagine a coffeeshop inside the United Red Carpet Lounge. That would be sweet. Mellow out a bit before traveling. Not that I need to mellow out. I am starting to feel waves of exhaustion after two weeks of exertion.
As another of those waves is cresting, I realize that the plane should be boarding right now, but we are all still waiting…and the plane isn’t even here yet! Tons of people queue up to change their flights. I watch them all. I decide to wait. The clock ticks on. The line dwindles to one person and I get up just to see what…or IF…anything is available: how ‘bout a DIRECT FLIGHT TO SAN FRANCISCO!!! Patience is a virtue, you know!
HOWEVER…she says they started boarding 20 minutes ago and the plane is scheduled to take off in TEN MINUTES!!! No problem…until she says I need to go to Gate D26. If you remember in a previous paragraph I mentioned that I am at Gate D7. Nineteen gates away. I suppose it is only 10 away if you account for gates on both sides of the terminal. Still… Now I gotta jam…
Strong legs from 2 weeks of walking get me to the gate in no time, much like a pre-if-it-don’t-fit-you-must-acquit OJ Simpson. Of course, I feel the sweat dripping down my back…and my breathing is a little bit elevated. The wheels on my little carry-on bag would spark if they could. Gate 26 appears quickly. Passengers are still boarding! LOTS of passengers are still boarding. There is NO WAY this aircraft is departing on time. Whatever. Direct flight home is worth waiting for a few minutes!
As luck would have it, the section boarding when I get there is my section. Basically, I ran from Gate D7 directly to my seat on Flight 975. My bag is put in the overhead bin and I buckle myself in. Six hours until we land. Probably seven hours until I am in my own bed. Alone. Now I know what Robert meant when he sang about "...goin' to California with an achin' in my heart..."
Having always been able to sleep on a plane, I quickly fall asleep as soon as we are at our cruising altitude. Memory-dreams of Mokum play in my mind. I remember being in Basjoe. Early morning. Bong and I are sitting at our table, as per usual. Secret Squirrel is at his table, as per usual. Breakfasts are consumed instantly and perfect coffees are delivered just as fast. The bong is graced with Bas Special and decorated with Spoon. Bong clears his hit, and I clear mine. When my coughing fit subsides, Bong starts filming. He is always filming. When the spins I created by coughing are manageable, I notice what is so interesting. The music overhead is playing a groovin’ beat. Behind the counter, James and Secret Squirrel are DANCING!!! (Well, James is dancing…Secret Squirrel is…well…bobbing up and down…kinda like the gopher in Caddyshack!!!) It is the best thing to see early in the morning! Happiness abounds…as a cloud of smoke is blown into my face I can no longer see Bong in front of me…instead, when the smoke clears, I am confused when I see a tray table and a TV map of the U.S. Toto, I don’t think we’re in Basjoe anymore…
Damn it.
The clock continues to tick forward as I continue to fly to an earlier time zone. Instead of dwelling on the memories of the last two weeks, I think about my little girl. I can’t wait to see her!!! (I can’t wait to get rid of the chocolates I have been carrying for two days now!)
The complementary side of the love coin will be polished with hugs and shined with kisses. See…there is always a good side…and sometimes you don’t even have to look that far to find it. The scenes from the past two weeks, however, keep invading. As my head rolls forward when sleep once more takes over, I dream another memory again. This time, we are in our hotel room. The hotel is an old hotel, a typical Amsterdam hotel, I suppose. The bathroom is just like my Aunt’s bathroom in her old house: The entire bathroom is tiled…the toilet and shower are on opposite sides of the room, there is one floor drain under the shower head and another one in the center of the bathroom. There is no shower curtain or divider of any kind. Basically, the shower water floods the entire bathroom all the way over to the toilet. (At least the mop in the shower makes total sense now!) The drains are not very fast-moving either. Meaning if you have to use the toilet after showering (or after someone else showers), you have to step in a pool of water. Ok. You get the picture.
On this particular morning, I cannot find my toothbrush. Since I always carry (at least) two with me, it is no problem, but still a mystery. Before we depart for the day, I try to coax the pool of water to the drain. As the mop grabs the water behind the toilet, it also grabs my missing toothbrush. UGHHHHH!!! BEHIND THE TOILET!!! BOYS PEE THERE!!!! IT WAS FLOATING IN SHOWER WATER!!! DID I SAY UGHHHHH?!?!?!?!?!?! Bong is flabbergasted when I throw it away (“you can wash it off!”) …I am flabbergasted that he is flabbergasted!!!
We joke with each other a bit more and he leans down to kiss me. Just before our lips meet, the flight attendant comes on the overhead speaker and startles me out of my dream-memory. Bitch.
Eventually the lights of San Francisco can be seen through the window. It always makes me happy to see them. (…I wanna get back, to my City by the Bay…) We land without incident, and I am always amused at the people who have never landed here: the water is on both sides of the runway and they think we are landing in the bay…slays me every time…My cell is turned on and I text my neighbor and tell him I landed.
The conveyer starts and I send another text to mfbrownbear to let him know he can leave now. My bags are not lost (yay!) and, in fact are the fourth and fifth ones off the conveyer. (yay!) Perfect timing as I walk outside and see his car pull up to the curb. The airport with its weary travelers is left behind and my house is just minutes away. The familiar sites on the way home comfort my weary brain and when we pull in the driveway, I am overwhelmed with exhaustion. Well, not that bad…mfbrownbear has a loaded pipe waiting. Ahhh….just what I need…We smoke the bowl and his other roommates come out to welcome me home. We chat for a few minutes and I make my way into my house. Luvmom is there…asleep on the couch…that is until my dogs went NUTS! They wake up luvmom but not my daughter (she’s used to the noise!). I sneak in her room, give her a hug and kiss, and whisper to her that I love her. My bed awaits as I wash off the day that started overseas, in Amsterdam. I climb into bed and fall asleep before I can dwell on the empty pillow next to me.
As I drift off, I think of Dr. Seuss’s wise words and sleep happens more easily:
Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened.
Stoner chicks RULE
-
StonedSince67
- Posts: 1489
- Joined: Thu 10th Jul 2008 12:16 pm
- Location: Keep on Truckin'
Hey luvtick, now might be a good time to get a hold of you, before the bumping and burping resumes.
I had a question about the liquid THC stuff. Brought from the states or bought locally. If locally, where?
Just a comment about the bumping and burping: Folks, if no one has anything interesting to say, there really is no need to keep the thread at the top.
If luvtick has anything to say, I'm sure she'll be able to find her thread. If anybody else has anything useful or interesting or otherwise mindblowing to contribute to the discussion, fine.
But just keeping a thread "current" by adding useless junk just for the heck of it seems kind of over the top.
Pleeeaaaase???
I had a question about the liquid THC stuff. Brought from the states or bought locally. If locally, where?
Just a comment about the bumping and burping: Folks, if no one has anything interesting to say, there really is no need to keep the thread at the top.
If luvtick has anything to say, I'm sure she'll be able to find her thread. If anybody else has anything useful or interesting or otherwise mindblowing to contribute to the discussion, fine.
But just keeping a thread "current" by adding useless junk just for the heck of it seems kind of over the top.
Pleeeaaaase???
We got it locally...as a gift...don't know if it is sold anywhere or not...anyone know???
Since coming home, I have had friends make tinctures...liquids...in spray form..in liquid form (great to add to stuff...) and in a hard sugar candy. I suppose if you know someone who grows, or if you can afford to buy enough, you can experiment!
(the in-tar-web is a wonderful tool...)
197 until Amsterdam!
(11 days until Balti-dam...Red Cat's Coffeeshop...meow...)
Since coming home, I have had friends make tinctures...liquids...in spray form..in liquid form (great to add to stuff...) and in a hard sugar candy. I suppose if you know someone who grows, or if you can afford to buy enough, you can experiment!
(the in-tar-web is a wonderful tool...)
197 until Amsterdam!
(11 days until Balti-dam...Red Cat's Coffeeshop...meow...)
Stoner chicks RULE
