Pendel’s Crazy Weekend

Something insane happened that pretty much changed my life, for the best, I hope, on Sunday, but more on that in a second.

Camile is way angry at me, and I don’t really care, except that I want another shot at that ass before I’m dead. She comes over on Saturday night, and is outside my window calling to me, and I’m like, come to the door, you idiot. She says something to me like, “I don’t want your whole stupid family hearing about this.” I could give a rat’s ass what my cornhole family hears, but she’s right, they are stupid, so I let her come in through my window. I usually would have been all over her right then, but I was still pretty embarrassed about the other night, so I just sat down and looked at her, and waited for her to start flapping those dumb fish lips. I didn’t have to wait long, but what she told me kind of freaked me out. Well, first, she says that leaving my bike by her driveway was a total boner move (agreed), because when her mom and dad got home late, they thought I was still there, and stormed her room expecting to find us naked, but instead only found her looking at her nipples in the mirror. Ha ha. Then she goes on to say that her folks have called the cops about the smashed windshield thing, and that the police told them that they had received call from a person who lives next to the Do Drop In about a guy with spiky black hair and a denim vest running down the street after the person had heard a big smash come from outside. Fits my description, all right! Camile says she knows it’s me—she remembers I was wearing my rocking MAYHEM vest that night—but I’m denying it all the way. Till death. She says her dad thinks it’s me too, and he said he’s going to tear my head off my shoulders the next time he sees me. I’ve got no doubt he can do it, too. Like I think I’ve said before, the guy works down at the auto yard, and looks like a fucking gorilla. Oh well. I’m not making any friends, but I guess I’m not losing any either. Camile said that if she ever finds out for sure that I did it, she’s never gonna play with my tool again, but that’s bullshit empty threats. She’s hooked on it. Anyway, my household should be getting a call from the cops soon, cause Camile’s ape-like parents told the cops about me. Told them that I’m a “bad seed”, apparently. Piss off, I say. I’m worried as shit, but more than that I fucking hate Camile’s jerk-off old man, and I’ll get even with him one of these days, make book on it. I should have flattened his tires and sugared his tank too, while I was at it. I should have set that piece of shit car on FIRE. More on that as it develops.

Now for the good stuff. So, I guess people have seen this stupid blog, and a couple of real weirdoes have even commented with their lame-ass thoughts about what the hell I should be doing and how I should be treating my dumb-bell mother. Everyone’s a Pendel expert! I hate it. Well, one guy named Craig tells me that I should be doing drugs at the dinner table, this way I can tolerate my parent’s company without getting too angry and depressed, and at the same time they get to think they are spending “quality” time with me, and maybe they’ll climb down off my fucking back some.

Finally some advice I can use.

I have almost no friends, really, because you just can’t trust anyone. But one guy I DO hang with named Sugarbear gave me a hit of acid like 6 months ago, but I never took it because I got enough problems. He said to keep it potent you gotta keep it cold, so I put it in the kitchen freezer, behind the snowball Clare’s been keeping since the winter before last. So when I got this Craig guy’s comment, I thought about it, and then, figuring I was going to need some good vibrations from the parental units when Johnny Law comes calling in the next couple of days, I decided to give it a try. What could it hurt, really? I took the acid about an hour before dinner yesterday, and then went and sat in my room to see what would happen. I got online and was reading up on some black metal until I started feeling it.

I’ve been around Sugarbear when he’s been tripping balls, and he seems to keep it together well enough, so I figured I’d be ok. About a half hour after I dropped, I just start giggling. I’m listening to Darkthrone on their MySpace page—and it fucking rocks. Not like Mayhem, but you gotta mix it up—and the music suddenly just kind of starts coming OUT of the computer, and it seemed for the first time very strange and frightening to me, how hard and mean the music is, but so deep, like a deep river or something, and it was kind of like looking down into a bottomless river, but at the same time it was all so FUNNY. Just ridiculous. Why was I listening to these guys? What were they saying? What the hell are they so MAD about? Ha. It’s very ironic, I know, because I feel so angry all the time, so of course I KNOW why they are pissed, because everything sucks demon dick and nothing in the world works the way it is supposed to, but at the time, I have to admit, it just didn’t seem prudent to waste my energy on feeling that way. So after a minute I get past the guy singing, and I’m just listening to the music, and that’s a different story completely. Now I’m IN the river, and I’m moving with it, and the currents of sound are crazy, and they are flowing all around me, and I’m totally GROOVING on this shit in a way I hadn’t before, because I had been so focused on how pissed-off the singer is. I’m sitting there, and I’m staring at the computer with big ole’ eyes probably, and I’ve got the album up now instead of MySpace, and I’m listening through the media player, and I’m watching those visualization things, you know? With all the shit swirling around and it’s just crazy, like complete eye candy, BRAIN candy, just flowing along in the river beside me, when I feel the shake on my shoulder.

It’s my dad, and he’s like, “Hey, earth to Pendel, you want to eat dinner with us tonight?” And for some reason I am totally torqued by the idea of sitting with these nut jobs. I’m all like yeah! Great! I’ll be right down! The old man looks at me like I just grew a second head, completely not trusting me, but he lets it go. I get up to walk down the stairs and it’s all like wheeeeeee! The hallway is not like the hallway I grew up with at all. It moves and shifts with my steps, trying to throw me off, making sport of me as I try desperately to be normal. I reach out for the wall to steady myself, and the wallpaper feels like the beach. Like, I am telling you, my fingers SINK into the wall. I yank my hand back, not frightened, but surprised, right as Clare is coming out of her room, and she looks at me with a look like complete disapproval, a look she has perfected, which drives me batshit normally, but today it makes me laugh and I blow her a kiss and she just rolls her eyes and calls me a retard and moves on.

I can’t eat most of my food at all. It’s a roast or something, and at the time, the idea of eating MUSCLE just FREAKS MY SHIT so completely. Juices running and all fiberous and brown. Oh my god. No one says much to me about it, they are used to me not eating the food they provide, and I can’t bring myself to say much because I so completely distrust my mouth to even be able to make proper words, but I like PLOW through the strawberry jello like a madman, and everyone has one eye on me but says nothing, and it seems to work, you know? They seem to be genuinely pleased that I am there with a smile on my face, and my mom even says, “It is nice to see you smiling today.” And my dad’s like, “You must have gotten a letter from a new girl.” And that just makes me burst out laughing because it just makes zero sense, you know? What the hell could such a comment mean? A LETTER? What freaking year does he think this is? Well, I laugh, and then THEY all laugh, and I swear to Jesus, their faces ELONGATE when they laugh, just like, they STRETCH! Like rubber! Oh, I am freaked to the limit, and the colors of the table are so vivid, and it’s all just like popping out at me, and the jello is as red as I’ve ever seen red get, and it’s like eating essence of strawberry, the soul of strawberries distilled, and I just can’t get the smile off my face.

It’s pretty uneventful, I’m sure, the rest of my dinner, but it’s a blur to me now. A blur of glinting metal and monotone conversation that is somehow soothing, and Clare’s braces making her talk SOOOO funny. I hadn’t noticed that before, had I? She’s completely dorky looking, Calre, but I bet she ends up pretty. One of the most captivatingly bizarre 45 minutes of my life so far.

I go to my room and spend the rest of my night there. I took the stuff at like 4:30 PM, and at 1 AM I was still feeling pretty elastic. It was crazy fun. I watched my TV, Discovery Channel the whole time, just the nuttiest stuff, you wouldn’t believe it if I told you what is happening in the fucking ocean right now. I had been laboring under the assumption that I lived on earth, but apparently I have been wrong all along. I also dug out my old legos from like 5-10 years ago and blew my mind with them. I never realized how weird all those pieces are. Some are so basic, but others…they have teeth and dimples and pegs. Crazy. I made a hole out of my legos and it completely floored me. Sometime around 10 PM or so I got my iPod and a flashlight and sat in my closet with the door closed for the rest of the night. I found out something about myself in in the dark. Not sure what, but is going to change me just as soon as I work it all out. It is so insane how much you can see when there is nothing to look at. Colors, colors, colors.

I fell asleep in there. I don’t know what time. My mom came in to my room to wake me up in the morning because I was running late for school, ha. She couldn’t find me, but I heard her calling my name. I waited for her to leave, and then crawled out of the closet and walked out to the kitchen, and she was all, “Where the hell were you?” I said the bathroom. She let it go. People tend to let it go with me these days.

I told Sugarbear about my expoits. He got a kick out of it and said we’d have to drop and hang sometime. I must say, I am more than up for it. I think I will stop going to the shrink once a week and do acid instead. If I can keep from getting arrested, that is. I’m back to worrying about when the cops are going to call my house. I am so stupid sometimes that I wonder how I have made it as long as I have without falling into a toilet and drowning.

Be that as it may, something good definitely came out of this weekend. Thank you Craig, where ever you are. You’re a magnificent bastard.