So I've decided to write a memoir recounting my high school experience. I thought of making it into a short story, but after getting half way through I realized that it wouldn't be short enough. Sure I could summarize the heck out of it, and leave out a couple events, but I feel like most if not all of it is pretty important. Besides, I'm already leaving out a ridiculous amount of stuff, just because I can't remember it. Why can't I remember it? well, it must have been all the smoking and drinking.

          I started off high school a loser. A big fat loser. OK, not big and fat, but more like skinny, awkward, and un-talkative. After a year or so of that, I found acceptance, but where you ask? in the stoner crowd, where everyone is accepted. This led to me making quite a few friends, and to quite a few parties, but after three years of caring about nothing but getting high and getting drunk, I realized that I had to make a change. I specifically remember thinking: "Life is too important to be wasted on weed". And so I quit. But it wasn't that simple.

          My stoner friends kept trying to get me back into the lifestyle, and once or twice I gave in, but eventually I rid myself of weed. And if effect, all of my old friends except for one, who I barely see anymore. Surprisingly though, I'm ten (ok, a million) times happier with myself now than I was at any point during those dark three years. Why? well, I have ambition, I'm going somewhere with my life. No longer do I just care about hanging out with my friends and getting stoned. I'm thinking about what I'm going to do once I get out of high school. Most of my old stoner friends either are in alternative school or have dropped out. What high hopes they have. What wonderful things they have and will accomplish. This may sound mean, but well, it is, and it's because it's their choice. Sure, I may not be hanging out with people everyday, but at least I'm not going to spend the rest of life in a mediocre minimum wage job, and not even care. See, the reason why they have allowed this to happen, is because they just don't care. Once you really get into weed everything else ceases to matter, and you become a pot zombie. No kidding.

          So, I imagine that this memoir will serve as a lesson. It will show teens what not to do, but I figure that it might even be a little interesting. I have quite a few stories as a result of three years of smoking weed everyday and partying every weekend. These include things like me and Oliver clinging onto the roof-rack of my friend's car while he did donuts in the middle of Stan Wadlow park at 3am, and my sister's ex boyfriend finding an ounce of weed in an unlocked van in the DA Morrison parking lot. Other good times include going to Matt's cottage (with no adult supervision) and surviving off of nothing but chips, burgers, beer and rum for an entire weekend. But of course, there were also the not so fun times, like watching Oliver running out of Pizza hut and puking on the ground right outside, and playing guitar while he spent some quality time with my friend's toilet (or sink), if you know what I mean. And then there were all the times I got too drunk... Oh what fun times...

          I can't help but wonder if this memoir will ever get published, and if anyone will actually learn something from it. Sure it will have a bunch of little lessons, and then one BIG one, but I wonder if it will ever get out there. Oh, well, I'll just have to wait and see.