Only in Humboldt County - A series of vinegetts on the events of Arcata, CA and surrounding areas.
I haven't updated in a while, mostly due to lack of motivation, but here goes. Hah! This kind of stuff could only happen here. (Okay, not really. But for the sake of this entry, let's pretend. Can we all do that? K, good.)
Road Trippin'
A few weekends ago, Friday after class really, my friend Dakota and I decided to go to her house in Eureka. While we were in Eureka, we hit the Bayshore Mall, a smallish sidewalk sale, and at long last, the dollar store. The dollar store just happens to be conveniently located next to a Starbucks. So we couldn't resist. We stopped in for long-craved frapaccinos(mmm, caramel peppermint). The guy making said frapaccinos was a little on the, shall we say, "happy" side. Dakota sat at a table, with her back to the guy, and I took off to take part in that lovely task that everyone must take care. I had to pee. I returned to the table where Dakota was to find that our drinks were ready for us, and we were ready to hit the road. So we did. It hurt. Just kidding. We took the back road through the Indianola cutoff but decided that we didn't want to go back to the freeway just yet. So we kept going to see where it would take us. All the while, keeping in mind that Dakota is a hardcore redneck, blasting Toby Keith, Garth Brooks, and a variety of country artists. By the time we got through Indianola, we felt a little bit, different. We weren't sure what it was but we liked it and kept going. The road ended up going back to the Sunset exit, which takes us back to school, and by then we were almost through with our frapaccinos. At this point, our frapaccinos tasted funny. Yes, you guessed it. They tasted like pot. Special fapaccinos. Mmmmm(except for like it tasted horrible and I wouldn't recommend it). So, high as kites, we kept on going. Past Sunset Boulevard, past Arcata, past McKinleyville, all the way up past Orick(where we decided to buy a vaccum - not really). At one point we had to pull over because Dakota couldn't feel her legs and we both had to use the restroom. We called my roommate from there and told her we'd be late - it was already past six. On the way back, I found myself strangely fascinated with the sun. I would also recommend sticking your head out the sunroof of a mustang while high. Much more exciting.
The moral of the story: The "P" on the Starbucks cup doesn't always stand for "peppermint".
Hippie for a Day
This morning, very very AM, Casey and I decided to go for a walk. We ended up way down "G" street in the cold, dark, fog. But, once we got down there, we could smell the beach and we took of running. "Need ocean *gasp* Beeeach." We found the sign that "Coastal Access" but decided, because it was devoid of streets lights, that we should come back in the morning. So we did. We stopped at APD for lunch and the continued on our way. It turned out that the Arcata Marsh was down there. Hah! So we walked around the marsh taking random pictures of natureish stuff. It was really kind of relaxing. So, here comes the hippie part. While enjoying our nature walk, we noticed that there happened to blackberry bushes every where. MMmm, blackberries. So yes. We did what you do with non-poisenous berries. We ate them. So, a tye-dye towel drapped over my shoulders, blackberries in my hand, a Beatles song in my head, and yes, my shoes off(only once and only for a bit), we continued our strole.
The moral of the story? Red blackberries make one's face contort.
Middle-aged Men
After a long cold day spent at the Arcata Marsh, Casey and I decided to stop at Muddy Waters for mochas. We collected our drinks and sat in the corner on an obscenely comfortable couch. In the meantime, two guys, both of whom must have been in their forties, had come in and ordered beers. One guy, we'll call him Bob, sat at a table while his friend Mike, his name really was Mike, talked to the cute guy making coffee. The poor guy was trying to take orders but Mike just kept talking. By now, Bob is up and apologizing the coffee guy over Mike's shoulder, and Casey and I are dying on the couch (not really dumbshit. We were laughing a lot). Bob frees the coffee guy and brings Mike back to their table, which is located in front of us. He sees us laughing and begins talking to us. He talked about everything from the Yankees to organically grown stuff. Yes, stuff. He began comparing types of marijuana and claiming that his stuff was the good stuff. "Original 'train wreck'. Same stuff they had in the 70's. None of that off shoot stuff they have now." He proceeded to tell us how to tell which kind of marijuana was which and how you could tell the difference. Oh, and you should know, he grows his own harvest. After going on a bit more, he pulls out a smallish round case containing, you guess it, a smallish ball of rolled marijuana. "Here smell that!" So we did! lol! We sat in Muddy Waters passing around a smallish ball of marijuana, plain as day. No one thought anything of it. He just up and pulled out his stash like it was nothing. Hah! Only in Humboldt. He asked us if we wanted to smoke with him and we declined. He was polite about it but stayed and kept talking about other such random things. We decided to leave when he started throwing out conspiracy theory crap about the Bush administration. We had to go anyway though. lol. Yes yes, good time.
The moral of the story...Not all middle-ages stoner guys are scary.
Random Thoughts
-My parents are uber freaked out about me coming home a hippie. I've decided I'm going to come home with either one of two things: A hippie, or a fan of country music. Everyone up here listens to at least some country. Though I'm not sure which option is scarier!
-I get to go home in twelve days! Wooo! Will post details as the time approaches. Am totally city-sick. Not home sick. Miss people, places, being able to just take off and go driving or whatever...
-I really should be doing english homework.
-No, not really.
-We're going to the beach tomorrow! Like, actually! Wooo Trinidad!
If you stayed with it this long, mad props! Your prize: The satisfactory of knowing the crazy stuff that goes down in Humboldt County.
Road Trippin'
A few weekends ago, Friday after class really, my friend Dakota and I decided to go to her house in Eureka. While we were in Eureka, we hit the Bayshore Mall, a smallish sidewalk sale, and at long last, the dollar store. The dollar store just happens to be conveniently located next to a Starbucks. So we couldn't resist. We stopped in for long-craved frapaccinos(mmm, caramel peppermint). The guy making said frapaccinos was a little on the, shall we say, "happy" side. Dakota sat at a table, with her back to the guy, and I took off to take part in that lovely task that everyone must take care. I had to pee. I returned to the table where Dakota was to find that our drinks were ready for us, and we were ready to hit the road. So we did. It hurt. Just kidding. We took the back road through the Indianola cutoff but decided that we didn't want to go back to the freeway just yet. So we kept going to see where it would take us. All the while, keeping in mind that Dakota is a hardcore redneck, blasting Toby Keith, Garth Brooks, and a variety of country artists. By the time we got through Indianola, we felt a little bit, different. We weren't sure what it was but we liked it and kept going. The road ended up going back to the Sunset exit, which takes us back to school, and by then we were almost through with our frapaccinos. At this point, our frapaccinos tasted funny. Yes, you guessed it. They tasted like pot. Special fapaccinos. Mmmmm(except for like it tasted horrible and I wouldn't recommend it). So, high as kites, we kept on going. Past Sunset Boulevard, past Arcata, past McKinleyville, all the way up past Orick(where we decided to buy a vaccum - not really). At one point we had to pull over because Dakota couldn't feel her legs and we both had to use the restroom. We called my roommate from there and told her we'd be late - it was already past six. On the way back, I found myself strangely fascinated with the sun. I would also recommend sticking your head out the sunroof of a mustang while high. Much more exciting.
The moral of the story: The "P" on the Starbucks cup doesn't always stand for "peppermint".
Hippie for a Day
This morning, very very AM, Casey and I decided to go for a walk. We ended up way down "G" street in the cold, dark, fog. But, once we got down there, we could smell the beach and we took of running. "Need ocean *gasp* Beeeach." We found the sign that "Coastal Access" but decided, because it was devoid of streets lights, that we should come back in the morning. So we did. We stopped at APD for lunch and the continued on our way. It turned out that the Arcata Marsh was down there. Hah! So we walked around the marsh taking random pictures of natureish stuff. It was really kind of relaxing. So, here comes the hippie part. While enjoying our nature walk, we noticed that there happened to blackberry bushes every where. MMmm, blackberries. So yes. We did what you do with non-poisenous berries. We ate them. So, a tye-dye towel drapped over my shoulders, blackberries in my hand, a Beatles song in my head, and yes, my shoes off(only once and only for a bit), we continued our strole.
The moral of the story? Red blackberries make one's face contort.
Middle-aged Men
After a long cold day spent at the Arcata Marsh, Casey and I decided to stop at Muddy Waters for mochas. We collected our drinks and sat in the corner on an obscenely comfortable couch. In the meantime, two guys, both of whom must have been in their forties, had come in and ordered beers. One guy, we'll call him Bob, sat at a table while his friend Mike, his name really was Mike, talked to the cute guy making coffee. The poor guy was trying to take orders but Mike just kept talking. By now, Bob is up and apologizing the coffee guy over Mike's shoulder, and Casey and I are dying on the couch (not really dumbshit. We were laughing a lot). Bob frees the coffee guy and brings Mike back to their table, which is located in front of us. He sees us laughing and begins talking to us. He talked about everything from the Yankees to organically grown stuff. Yes, stuff. He began comparing types of marijuana and claiming that his stuff was the good stuff. "Original 'train wreck'. Same stuff they had in the 70's. None of that off shoot stuff they have now." He proceeded to tell us how to tell which kind of marijuana was which and how you could tell the difference. Oh, and you should know, he grows his own harvest. After going on a bit more, he pulls out a smallish round case containing, you guess it, a smallish ball of rolled marijuana. "Here smell that!" So we did! lol! We sat in Muddy Waters passing around a smallish ball of marijuana, plain as day. No one thought anything of it. He just up and pulled out his stash like it was nothing. Hah! Only in Humboldt. He asked us if we wanted to smoke with him and we declined. He was polite about it but stayed and kept talking about other such random things. We decided to leave when he started throwing out conspiracy theory crap about the Bush administration. We had to go anyway though. lol. Yes yes, good time.
The moral of the story...Not all middle-ages stoner guys are scary.
Random Thoughts
-My parents are uber freaked out about me coming home a hippie. I've decided I'm going to come home with either one of two things: A hippie, or a fan of country music. Everyone up here listens to at least some country. Though I'm not sure which option is scarier!
-I get to go home in twelve days! Wooo! Will post details as the time approaches. Am totally city-sick. Not home sick. Miss people, places, being able to just take off and go driving or whatever...
-I really should be doing english homework.
-No, not really.
-We're going to the beach tomorrow! Like, actually! Wooo Trinidad!
If you stayed with it this long, mad props! Your prize: The satisfactory of knowing the crazy stuff that goes down in Humboldt County.