It All Ended So Fast

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It all came to a stop, like that of an insect flying into a windshield.

I got to go home, or closer to it.

A lot of you may know that I do not even call Nebraska my home anymore, even through I was born in the same state.

Idaho, well Idaho is not my home either but it is a lot closer and the scenery looks very close to that of Western Washington, it’s like trying to compare a Christmas tree from New York to a Christmas tree from California.

Speaking of tress…now I can understand why people asked me, “do you guys even have tress in Nebraska?”

Yes…yes we do, but really man, look at that picture and then tell me that Nebraska has the same amount of tress.

I missed 100 foot tall Evergreen tress all jammed next to one another like 350,000 people at Seattle Hempfest.

I didn’t know how much I would have missed that area, an area known to many others as the Pacific Northwest.

It was…oh my god dude, it made me understand how much I took that part of the country for granted.

We left Omaha, had a layover in Denver, and arrived in Spokane a few hours later.

I had a huge smile on my face all the way into Idaho. 100 foot tall Evergreen tress ran up and down both side of the freeway, the freeway itself had more than 3 lanes, the town was a lot bigger (as far as population goes), and I saw a Jack in the Box.

Speaking of Jack in the Box, I made sure that my father drove me there before we left. I got a Bacon Ultimate Cheeseburger with fries and a large drink. I made sure to get a large drink for one reason, and one reason only.

So I could take the cup “home” to Nebraska, a state that does not even have Jack in the Box…at all…nowhere…the closest one to me is 110 miles south in Kansas City, Kansas.

Not Missouri, Kansas.

I’m happy that I got to eat Jack in the Box. But, of course that was the day after I took it too far, way too far, too fast, and threw up at my sister’s wedding.

That is the whole reason we – my girlfriend and I – went to Idaho, North Idaho to be exact.

A little background: In Jr. High I was that kid that was the goody two shoes. When my sister told me she smoked pot in ninth grade I was shocked, I started looking at her like she was less of a person because of it.

At the time – 1999 – Marijuana was unknown to me and the only thing we were told about it was, “it’s going to kill you” or “it will turn you into a Heroin addict.”

Fast forward a few years – 2003 – things have turned around. My sister was now highly religious and stopped smoking pot, while me on the other hand started to transform into an atheist who started smoking pot.

I feel like I need to say something right now, just in case the wrong person finds my blog. I have not smoked pot since I left the state of Washington, at the end of the Fall Season, 2013.

Anyways, so years later my sister starts to date one of her co-workers, who just happened to be a co-worker of the same kid who I hung out with in high school, on of the many kids at least.

So, I guess you can say my brother-in-law is my friend’s friend. It was kind of a weird circle going on.

Throughout the night I was not being that nice of a boyfriend, I was not trying to be mean. I was just stuck in my own idea of hanging out with old friends, which was weird, and drinking free beer.

The problem is I drank too much, too fast, I wasn’t even really keeping track of it.

There I was, smoking a menthol cigarette and drinking Mac N’Jacks – another thing they do not seem to have in this flat state of nothingness and humidity – and my dad comes out to the beer garden and says to me, “if you don’t want to be sleeping on the couch tonight you need to go hang out with Shannon.”

I can’t say I blacked out, I get too sick before that happens. But from that point forward things don’t seem to completely string together.

Keep in mind, I’m a guy in a wheelchair.

I remember turning my chair around, in gravel, and going towards to main building. I don’t remember getting there, but there I was asking the bartender for a cup of water.

Then I end up outside resting my head up against a wooden pillar.

Like my wheelchair ran into the pillar – I didn’t actually run into it…I think – and then leaned forward.

Then I had someone, I forget who, but one of the dudes I was hanging out with earlier pushed me over to my moms van. That is where my stomach decided it didn’t like me anymore.

Security was going to kick me off of the property, but once that found out that I was the brother of the bride they choose not to, just gave me more water and cleaned up the mess.

My mom, my mom was super mad at me, like I did something evil. While I was spilling my food all over the place I remember my dad calling me an idiot.

And the best part about it is my sister didn’t really care, “he is having fun, which is what I want him to do. I know mom is pissed, but I don’t care.”

Before I went to bed, after we got back to the cabin that they rented, my sister looked at me and said, “what did you drink?” I remember saying, “too much.”

I think her and Shannon got a laugh out of that…then I went to bed while the rest of the house continued to party.

All in all, I had fun for my little short trip back to the Pacific Northwest. I do feel bad for a few things, but I’m glad my mom was the only one I pissed off. Which is not a hard thing to do by the way.

And I got some fucking Jack in the Box…damn I missed that place.

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