Monday, June 20, 2011

You Put Your Weed in There...

I don't need to be awake at 5AM to believe it exists, and no person in their right mind should have to witness it. It's there, though. Trust me. You could argue that it's alright for a certain age to be up at that ungodly hour as long as it's because they haven't been to bed yet, but your argument would be invalid. Witnessing 5AM is like witnessing the supernatural powers of the Ark of the Covenant. It will make your face melt. Today I'm forced to see it.

For the first time in 2 and a half years, I'm headed to Chicago because the Juggernaut is getting married. Despite his being like a brother to me, my decision to go is last minute. I didn't think I could make the trip when Dad took a turn for the worse, but that was before I knew he could take an even worse turn for the worse. He won't know if I'm gone at this point, and I'll only be away for 36 hours. That's right. 36 hours.

Upon hearing this itinerary, the Juggernaut scolded me, pointing out that I haven't seen any of these people in years (save the ones who have visited us) and my day visit, most of which is wedding ceremony, does not leave catch up time with anyone who didn't make his tiny, 40-person wedding list. He called me Squirrelly. He's right, but I'm still hybernating so fuck it.

Packing for a trip this short, I knew I wouldn't need to check any baggage, but I AM there for a wedding and 2 nights, so I need more than a purse. Being a novice when it comes to flying, I've decided to pack everything I assume they'll want to sort through at the top of the knapsack I'm bringing. Unfortunately, as I pack, I realize this includes everything.

At the very top of the pile is my injection kit: Prefilled syringes, sharps container, needle clipper, thermometer to make sure the meds stay below 86F, ice pack, alcohol pads and band-aids. I originally hoped to jam weed into an empty syringe (MS gives me awful headaches that are only killed with the right blend of cannabinoids) but if I were caught, not only would I miss the wedding, I might set a precedent that would make it difficult for anyone to travel with their meds in the future, and I don't want to be That Douchebag.

Below that is my medicine/vitamin container which has 7 smaller containers - one for each day of the week - and these are broken down into 4 compartments. I'd love to take just the 32 pills I will need and leave the bulky, seven day box at home, but all my prescription labels are stuck to the box. Every time I see the doctor, they want an updated list of what I take and this is the easiest way to get it right. So the whole thing is travelling just below my syringes. I assume they'll want to look through it.

Below the meds and supplies, now 50% of the knapsack, are some items I doubt I will need, but you never know. Tampons, baby wipes, and glycerine suppositories. Shame goes out the window when you deal with a disease like Multiple Sclerosis, and I don't give a fuck if some $17/hour security guard sees my bathroom kit. I thought about jamming weed into one of the tampon plungers and glueing it back up or even hiding some in the suppository jar, but I really don't know how ballsy these guys are, and I don't want to miss this wedding.

I've got some necklaces I wear for good luck when I fly. All 3 other times. I was thinking of making and wearing an additional necklace that had weed jammed in a small plastic container and then embedding the container in resin, but I'm afraid I might poison myself trying to get rid of a headache. Oh the irony. It's also been 2 and a half years since I worked with resin, and I'm not sure my hands and eyes could even measure or mix it correctly.

The next layer down has things like the toothbrush, phone charger, and hair bands. I made a scrunchie last week with the intention of jamming a small bag of weed in it. They'd never notice a small hit of weed buried between layers of scrunchie fabric against my hair, would they? Fucking Hell. I'm not trying to smuggle heroin, I just don't want to be ill during my friend's wedding. But I can envision myself being pulled out of the line and questioned till my plane is long gone. That's when the 13 year old in me would come out to meet airline security.

"Intent to distribute? I assure you this is all for me..." I doubt my attitude would go over well.

At the very bottom of the bag are my clothes which fit in an 11" ziplock. The only bag they won't want to look through, but I'm not Brave Enough to tamper with. It's just a headache, right? An awful, pounding, nauseating headache. I'll survive. I'll eat lots of things I'm not supposed to eat, drink lots of things that will make my doctors mad, see a dear friend get married, and hope that someone at the festivities has an 80/20 Indica Sativa blend. It's the only thing that gets rid of the pain. A pain that would melt your face off.


And I haven't forgot what it's like to be
with Misadventure and her mates.


  1. Wow, you must really love these people to get on a plane. Impressive. But for fuck's sake, there's gotta be a way to take the weed. FedEx?

  2. I do. This guy is like a brother to me and his family adopted me while I lived in Chicago those 14 years. Nothing but a storm [ ;) ] could have kept me from going.

    And something's happened since I met the boy and discovered I have MS. I seem to be a lot less afraid of everything. I was a little nervous getting to the gate, but once I was on the plane, I was okay. I even went through 90 minutes of turbulence - I've never experienced turbulence before - and I was fine.

    My plan is to come see you soon if you can assure me there is a time when I can avoid humidity and temperatures above 80F...