Why I will never (willingly) eat pot again:

As seen on Flamingo Pink!

Living on the other side of the world from my mom, Donna, is hard. Thankfully someone invented mobile phones and Skype and the Internet so we can communicate 24-7. And that we do. Without fail, Donna calls me every day. She usually divulges all the details from her lunch date with her friends or fills me in on a new diet she’s trying out. However, every now and then, she blows my mind.

The other day, Donna called while I was walking though the garden department of Bunnings. As I browsed through the different types of grass seeds, Donna detailed a wonderful night she had spent with her hippie friends. She told me that she bought something from Tina. (Tina being my mum’s friend who wears flowy skirts and Herkimer crystals 365 days a year.) I asked Donna what she got, thinking it would probably be some sort of organic deodorant or tabouli recipe book.

Donna whispers, “It’s for pleasure.”

YUCK! I immediately cringed and yelled, “Ew, Mom, no! Do you mean like a vibrator?”

Donna giggled and then said, “No! I don’t know if I can tell you over the phone. Are cell phone lines secure?”

What the hell could she possibly be talking about?

“Mom, it’s fine. No one is listening to or recording our conversation.”

“Okay, okay, I got a Joy Biscuit.”

“Is that a vibrator?” I was seriously picturing some weird pastry shaped sex toy.

“No – it’s a pot cookie.”

And so Donna went on to explain how she spent her night ingesting marijuana alone. Although the majority of her night was spent combating dry-mouth, she also managed to win Solitaire a whopping 14 times. That doesn’t count the 20 games of Spider Solitaire that she slayed. All in all, she decided that the paranoia and insatiable hunger she suffered while trying to go to sleep made the entire experience not worth it.

And I have to agree. I ate a pot cookie in college. I got one from my dreaded friend at work one night. Around 8pm I settled in to watch Sopranos and eat my “special dessert” alone. I proceeded to get higher than the Empire State Building. Unable to handle the story line of Sopranos (the one with the bear in the yard), I crawled into bed to escape into my pillow. However, the walls around me looked like they were melting. I found myself praying to the weed gods to please let me fall asleep thinking that I would wake up sober. My prayers were only half answered.

I woke up at 9am and opened my eyes only to discover that I was still stoned out of my mind. I mostly spent the day eating and wondering if I had thrown my entire life away. I truly felt like I was having a schizophrenic episode. Around 6pm I remembered that I had a marketing class to attend.  Still moving at super stoner pace, I picked up some Chinese food and walked into class. My friend, Emily, took one look at my container of Sweet and Sour Chicken and then my eyes and said, “Oh my God you’re stoned. Can I have some?” I had to explain that I hadn’t recently gotten stoned. I was STILL stoned from the night before.

We giggled the entire way to the bathroom where I looked at myself. My eyelids were basically shut and the little bit of the whites you could see were blood red. I couldn’t believe that I was still visibly high almost 12 hours later. (I also had no idea that eating pot would have that effect on my eyes. I thought it was from the smoke…)

Anyway I made it through class, but I’m positive that I learned nothing except that I don’t ever want to eat pot again.  Like EVER.

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