Bob Dylan Got It Wrong

There are times where I don't even know where to begin in my blog. The thoughts are bubbling, but I'm not sure what it is I'm trying to say or even how to say it. Let's take tonight, for instance. Thursday night TV with the girls. Girls I like. Partners, but not CWITs. And the conversation was roaming all sorts of places, and I can't for the life of me remember how it came up--maybe they were talking about all the singles in the group off at a bachelor's party or something?--but whatever it was I said--in a relevant moment--"Well, don't look at Adam. Believe it or not he's never tried an illegal substance." Because that's weird, right? I mean, I'm not advocating drugs or anything but how many people make it to 30 without even experimenting a little bit. A toke here. A tab there. Whatever, right? But all I get are blank faces. So I think they don't know what I'm talking about. So I elaborate. "I mean, he's never even taken a single hit of a joint." You know where this is going, don't you? I'm in a room with four other women, and not a single one has ever, ever tried a drug. Not a one. In fact, one said, "I don't think I've ever been anywhere where there was even an opportunity to try it. I've never been anywhere where there's pot." Of course I pushed it. "Really? Never? Not even a single toke?" Is this me? How did I plunge from an almost-respectable CWIT to druggie all in a matter of seconds? Of course, I'm not sure that when I was told, "Oh, don't worry. Everyone makes mistakes when they're young" that the right answer was "Well, I don't think it was a mistake," but what the hey. I mean, seriously. Am I completely out of touch or what?

I'm starting to think that today just wasn't my day. I'm going to hide under the covers now.