Quick Side Note: I sort of wanted to title this one Prude Gone Wild.... HA damn.
So here's the thing, having a husband with a very serious immune-compromised condition that entails some rather serious treatment (sometimes over a month living in the hospital), a lot of life gets put on hold. There are a lot of things such as trips, concerts, being out and about, etc. that becomes a lot more difficult when you can't be more than a half hour away from your hospital, can't go in crowds, and don't have the energy anyway. So with that said, there had been things (couple of concerts) we'd planned to go to but Tom had insisted I hold off on buying the tickets (yah)... so when it came around I decided "fuck it, I'm gonna go and I'm gonna have a fucking great time for Tom." Begin, "SLO Story."
So, it was October or November (who fucking cares) and Judas Priest would be playing in Paso Robles and the brother in law lives in San Luis Obispo (the mentioned SLO). There was a group of us, one of Tom's closest friends, his girlfriend (who I'll boastfully put the plug out there that I set them up), and the roomie. We road trip the five hours down there and see an EPIC show by Judas Priest and then we decided to hit the town. Well, worth mentioning that the brother-in-law works at one of the pubs downtown and lets just say that even though up until this point I would have been described as someone who never drinks, I was determined to keep up with the crew. I should also mention that all I'd had was one bean burrito from taco bell and some celery all day. It was on this occasion where I learned the important lesson of having food in the stomach when drinking. There was a lot of tequila, a lot of other mixed shots, a lot of alcohol. Point being, I kept up alright... and then it all hit me so quickly as we waited for our uber. I tried to utilize a non-stabilized newspaper holder for a means of support-- I ended up finding myself glued to the outside wall while watching some crazy girl shout at our group and her male friend also shouting ... so much shouting (who fucking knows why). I interjected as the peace keeper and said, "hey-hey, it's all good" and the male friend whipped around and told me, "Don't you tell me I'm all good- oh I'm good." Not sure, whether that meant he was agreeing... but I just stood there and wondered whether anyone else was able to make a plan to get us back to the hotel because I was not capable of doing so.
We get back to the hotel, where it might be fair to say that not a single one of us was anywhere near "clear mind." I lay on the floor between the two beds because I'm convinced I'll end up there unplanned otherwise.... as I look up, standing above me is the lovely girlfriend (wearing shorts), and I get a straight up view which for whatever reason made me laugh so incredibly hard for feeling like a creeper. I laughed, and laughed, and laughed, and it was about 2am so the hotel keep called the room and informed the lovely girlfriend that they needed to shut me up. Just to point out, I was then up at a spritely 7am down getting coffee and shitty Svenhard's pastries for the group to wake up and be ready for brunch. #nohangovershere #winning So annoyingly kind of me, I know.
----------------------------------------- Fast Forward (Time Machine)----------------------------------------
So life continued, I took advantage of seeing shows I knew Tom and i would have had a blast at, each time sharing it with different awesome company. It was pretty cool. The doing fun shit and hosting events was pretty fun. So I decided to host a party just because... so I did. It was time people got together, chilled out, had some laughs.. you know... not adult for a moment. Well, Laura invited folks from various life periods: friends, coworkers, etc. and we had a super fantastic time. Here's the thing (I say that a lot), I really find that I do well with tequila. I can drink a decent amount of it and the worst that happens is I end up on the floor laughing hysterically. I like those results.
Well, Tom also had some "special" brownies that he used for anxiety and sleep, and to just feel better about his day and watch Ace Ventura with extra laughter. I may have thought it would be a good idea to see what that was all about. Remember, I also really like tequila. There I am, on the patio surrounded by some super awesome people, enjoying the moment... and all of a sudden I get this shit eating grin on my face and I realize womp womp, shit's about to be different. Well it was all fine and dandy for awhile as I just found everyone super hilarious and all I could think of was that I felt like I was "Space Truckin" (yes the fucking Deep Purple song from before I was ever born). I just felt like I was time traveling.
The evening went on, the giggles worsened, folks left.... eventually I did find myself on my living room floor laughing so hard (now this is a typical tequila situation), that I just remember my head hitting the floor and me dyyyyyying laughing at a friend's impression. I collected myself and I tried to make a PB&J sandwich to join the couple of folks who remained on the couch. Oh Jesus... was that ever a trip or what?! I took the butter knife and scooped the peanut butter out of the jar and as I tried to spread it onto the bread, I just couldn't quite coordinate that. I thought to myself "clearly the world of snapchat needs this" and I snapchatted myself trying to spread peanut butter with myself saying, "I don't know where it begins and where it ends... but it's just peanut butter--you know?" Laura, what in the fuck does that mean?! I head over to the couch to sit down and watch this comedian a friend has put on the television and suddenly I'm hearing everything like ten times and it feels like the world's worst case of dejàvú ... I have to get out of here-- RIGHT. NOW.
I bid the two people adieu and say I'm headed to bed... which meant I walked about ten feet and sat down. One person decides to see if I need assistance, to which I respond by laying on the floor and describing that I'm in the movie Inception. He laughed as I tried to explain that I was currently "falling through dimensions but in a circle repeatedly." It's fair to say this was an incredibly uncomfortable feeling. I insisted I needed no help to get to my bed which felt an ocean away (ha that will soon be relevant). I tried to stand up and sat back down. I laid down again on the floor and with my face on the wood floor, cheek skewed as I pushed my body down the hall with my feet, I insisted to my concerned friend, "Nah, nah... I've got this... I'm gonna swim to my bed."
I get to my bed... who the fuck knows how long it took... and as I make my way up to my pillows with probably some really horribly uncoordinated log roll style... I then began to tell my friend how I was convinced I was going to die. As he laughed and reassured me I'd be okay, I explained that I knew it might be anxiety and that Tom once went to the hospital for being too high and thinking he was having a heart attack, but I was freaking out and weirdly trying to be cognitive about calming down... It was around 4am (provided I remember correctly) when I finally decided to close my eyes and try to sleep this off.
I had a full mimosa brunch planned the next morning for the guests that would stay over; However, I did not wake up at a spritely 7am this time around ... I woke up at 1:30pm to a house of no guests. My guests so politely let themselves out and didn't disturb me. Which is good because I described the following day as a day where everything was moving in slow motion.
Worst. Idea. Ever. That's my encounter of edibles and tequila. One and Done. Laura doesn't need a two for woo. But hey- I was 27 and there's a whole "club" of people who made far worse decisions at that age (terrible 27-Club joke). Twenty-seven was a very interesting year of finding myself... I'm not sure that I've really managed it, but it was quite the year. Mother had serious concerns I was "getting too crazy" as she put it. Each time I responded to her, "It's hardly like I'm out doing fucking meth, calm down."
There's something interesting about having your entire life-plan be so incredibly derailed and something to be said about growing up through adulthood with another person and now suddenly needing to learn what life on your own is like. Life on my own is an incredibly new chapter... I was sharing my lovely home with a young lady who moved in immediately when Tom passed, which eased the fear of sitting in an empty house, but now I sit in this space and I'm learning what being an independent woman looks like. Once taking the plunge to just trust in yourself, it's almost empowering to realize that you're good enough as just you and that you can choose to spend time and share space with others, but that you don't need it. That's the life lesson I've been working on... making my space and my self just present and mine, not stuck in what was or what was hoped to be. No pressure and no expectations, what a concept for this virgo-eldest child.
Here's to 28 and more life adventures that make my mother shake her head and wonder when I'll just "get it together" and start producing grandchildren, baking pies, and living back in the good ole hometown. Here's to more morning thoughts of "well that was crazy!" And here's to the existential scavenger hunt of finding yourself in your late twenties when you thought you'd had it all fucking figured out. Fuck you Universe... I've got this.
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