This story is strictly based on my last Christmas. By far, was it the most eventful and craziest Christmas I have ever been a part of. I couldn't have dreamed it being better. It's that feeling, when I look back, of holding your shit in right before you're about to bust a nut all over a girl's face. Yeah, that good. It goes like this.


Tuesday, December 25th -- Christmas Day
3:05 AM - Florida
I'm up. And no, I'm not up because I get that excited for Christmas and I'm watching "A Christmas Story" until my family is up. I'm up because I have a plane to catch at 9:00 AM back home to Pennsylvania. Everyone in the household is awake at this time, my mom, my god-brothers, and my god-parents. They understand the circumstances my mom and I are under and they don't complain. They love Christmas like Heath Ledger likes butt secks (too soon?). The Christmas tree is lit up with presents and we hastily get started until they're all open and it's as if you were in a haze and don't remember opening any at all. Breakfast, finish packing, out the door.

9:11 AM - Florida Airport
I'm on the plane. I'm excited to go back home to visit my family and friends. This was my first trip back home after moving to Kissimmee, Florida 14 months ago, so you can imagine how excited I was. The plane lands roughly 2 hours later in Pittsburgh, PA. My brother is there to pick my mom and I up and takes us to my dad's house where I will have another gathering of presents under the Christmas tree. The awkwardness two divorced parents can bring to the table on Christmas day is beyond me, but that's how the second half of opening presents was for me at my dad's. My family was all together in the same room for the first time since June, 2006. And then, it was over.

3:11 PM - Butler, Pennsylvania
My mom is staying at our old house in PA where my brother and his friends currently reside, and she decks out of the house as fast as she can without feeling too guilty. My dad, and my 2 brothers go to my cousin's house for a Christmas dinner, which seemed longer than The Last Supper. After some bullshit conversation and concerns about each other lives we finally leave and my next destination is a warm bed at my dad's house. It's been a long day being up at 3 AM, and I can't wait to pass out. Then I get a phone call.

8:57 PM - The Phone Call
It's my friend Ryan. He knew I was getting home on this very day and was determined to give me a call so he could be the first person I chill with. I was tired but he was convincing, even on a long ass Christmas day. I persuade my dad to let me stay at his house tonight and promise him to be home early the next day to spend time with him. Ryan and I were good friends for a long time and I figure when I get there we're going to just get ripped out of our minds and pass out watching a dumb movie or something. I walked outside to meet him in the apartment parking lot and the snow on the ground sent me a message. As I walk towards his car the white snow which I haven't seen since last Winter was greeting me. It missed me. Ryan greets me with a firm handshake and a big smile.

10:54 PM - Ryan's House: Panic
My two friends were also at Ryan's house waiting to see me; Dylan and Chet. We get back and they greet me as you would greet an old friend who has moved away and then their faces turn to solemn. They explain to Ryan the abandoned house we usually smoked at just got searched by police. Our ounce of weed was in that house. We keep our cool since it's not a big deal to buy some bud, it just sucks we lost an ounce to the police most likely, and they more or less knew they were the only kids who ever chilled there. Oh well fuck that. Smoked a cig, made the call, waited, got some more weed. We smoked bowl after bowl out of my friend's bong until we're completely ripped and then the night ended.

Wednesday, December 26th -- Snow Day
12:24 AM - Ryan's House: Slopes?
We get inside after freezing our balls off in the cold, that I'm not used to, and sit down and pop in Old School. It was at this time Dylan got the phone call. You know when you're with a group of friends and one of them gets a call the chatter throughout the room abruptly stops to try and gain information from that phone call? If he's involved, we must be too. The second line after him answering the phone Dylan smiles and says, "are you serious?" We wait. We cringe. "Hold on," were the words Dylan said. Dylan sits down the phone and looks at us as our faces grew dumbfounded and curious beyond reason. He asks, "Do you guys wanna do some blow tonight?" We laugh. We praise. We all knew the answer. We were gonna do it for the story. What's a better ending to a long Christmas day?

1:03 AM - Ryan's House: The Arrival
Dylan and Chet drove to pick up the 8 ball up a half an hour ago. Where were they? Did they get pulled over? Were they just fucking with us? Where are my cigarettes? The door opens and glowing in Dylan's hand is a white, glowing molecule that looks too good to be true. The fun started. Chet, the blow virgin of the group still vowed to never do coke, and was sticking to his word. We look for a surface to bust out the rails. Ryan said he had the perfect thing. He went upstairs and came back with a framed picture of Santa Clause. We were playing in the snow on top of a picture of Santa Clause. Morals? Fuck no. We bust out 3 huge lines to start our journey into the night, and we sit back, and relax.

2:00 AM - Ryan's House: Cheddar Ball
Now when I do blow, I don't fuck around. I make the shit last and get my money's worth. It's expensive and you can't be running around doing .5 gram lines every time. We're conservative. After our second line Chet gets rigidity as he knows he missing out on something epic. We promise to never let anyone know he was going to try it for the first time. (Ironic I tell you that?) "It's just a bump." He takes the bump with glee and smiles like a little kid. Five minutes later he begs us to let him do one line and that's all he wanted. We give in because we're fucked up and Chet is a funny ass mother fucker, and very convincing. We give him a zinger. He's feelin' it. Five minutes later the door slams and Chet is out the door, we think nothing of it as we're in a state of euphoria. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 ... uhh, 10 minutes passed and he comes running back inside. In his hands he has 4 bottles of Mountain Dew. "I was fucking thirsty and I remembered that vending machine was right across the street, don't worry these are on me." I lost it. His expression, his diction, his tone, everything made me bust out laughing. It was going to be a great night.. erm, morning?

3:56 AM - Ryan's House: Skiing
We've been doing lines by timed intervals with smoke breaks in between. We figure we have a few more lines left for the rest of us and we decide that's not good enough. Dylan knew exactly what to do. Before anyone said anything he made the call and another T was on the way. Talk about good delivery service in the middle of a snowy morning. Beat that UPS. It arrived twenty minutes later and we were back to our utopia.

4:38 AM - Ryan's House: Lines
Line.

4:40 AM - Ryan's House: Lines
Line.

4:42 AM - Ryan's House: Lines
Line.

4:44 AM - Ryan's House: Lines
Line.

4:46 AM - Ryan's House: Lines
Line.

4:48 AM - Ryan's House: Lines
Line.
Each individual crystal in the pile of snow was a gift that was to be cherished. Talk about a reunion. Talk about reaching the peak on a steep mountain.

6:03 AM - Ryan's House: Hanging Up The Skates
We're finally winding down to our final lines. And I don't know how you guys come down from a coke night, but we did it the right way. After taking our respective last gummers and rails, we bust out the bottle of Southern Comfort. Shot. Shot. Shot. Shot. Shot. Shot. Six or seven shots later I realize I have to be home in 3 or 4 hours. No worries. Nothing could break my stride. We go out to breakfast around 7:30 AM and I ate like I never ate before. After being up 28 hours and a night of playing in some snow, there's no telling how hungry a man can be. The meal to end it all. After this I knew it was back to Ryan's for another hour or so, then back up to my dad's for a short coma I would slip into, rightfully.

9:49 AM - Butler, Pennsylvania: Face First
Ryan and I say our respective farewells and share some last laughs reflecting on what we actually did, and if it actually happened. Talk about memories. His car struts away down the snowy, curved road, and I can't help but smile. I walk upstairs to my dad's apartment, give him an insincere "good morning," and fall face first onto my bed. Knocked out. I'd eventually awake 7 or 8 hours later, and progress with the rest of my crazy Winter vacation. Christmas, 2007 was one for the books I had decided.

Closing thoughts:
I was up at 3 AM opening presents in sunny Florida, to opening presents in the afternoon in snowy Pennsylvania. I went from Christmas dinner, to Christmas lines on Santa Clause's face. That was the best present he gave me last year. It's funny looking back at that whole day. It was the most eventful and ironic day that I had in a while and I tried to explain it in a way where you could see how long it actually was. Of course I left out details, conversations, and attempts to make you laugh out your ass that could be half heartily remembered and written down, but anyone who's done blow knows what goes on and how you feel and the memories that can be revealed. I don't feel obligated to explain a feeling that isn't worth trying to explain if you don't have first hand experience. Blow never really came around that area except so that was a weird time, it was a rare occasion. This was strictly a night we DIFTS (Did It For The Stories), and one that I will never forget.