Cheyla Lachowsky (2L)

The build-up to Canadian cannabis legalization has been big, and it’s finally here. After six months of convincing himself that it’s not a gateway drug to a heroin addiction, my husband agreed to try the marijuana with me. Up to this point, my only experience smoking anything was a pretentious cigar at a dinner party last year. It would be a learning experience but we were determined.

I consider my younger sister an expert in the area. Since she’s undoubtedly cooler than me, she agreed to help. Luckily, I had the “your reputation started yesterday” lecture to fall back on when she had the brilliant idea to upload my first time getting high onto the internet. I was able to talk her out of that and convince her that I didn’t want to have any of the weed that she bought from her dealer. Apparently, since we both grew up going to church and Sunday school with him, he must be trustworthy source of drugs. I disagree, and so I put my trust in a government source, since I figure it’s less likely to be accidently laced with whatever scary new substance my mother is sharing articles about on Facebook.

Since my husband wanted to be like the stoner friends we both still have from our high school days, we decided to use a vape pen and marijuana oils. This was easier said than done. Too afraid to ask questions at the vape shop, and too stubborn to wait for anyone to go with him, my husband bought a vape on his own: a vape that the previously mentioned high school stoner friends assured him could not be used to smoke marijuana, and could in fact only be used to make him look uncool. It was non-refundable. At this point our equally clueless roommate joined our quest and suggested that we just pour the oil right into our mouths. With that brilliant idea fresh in our minds, we loaded into the car to finally go purchase this fancy oil.

I don’t know why we thought that the stores somehow wouldn’t have lineups around the block on the second day after legalization. By the time we got there the store employees were no longer letting more people get into line, since they would close before they could possibly get to everyone. We grumbled and wondered why in the age of Amazon Prime we were bothering with a store at all. We were still optimistic when we got home and brought up the website to order cannabis online. Faced with the harsh reality of how much oils cost, we decided to go old school (which was probably a good thing based on our plans to drink it). After googling unfamiliar terms like CBD and THC, we decided something with a low THC level would be best.

Fast forward a few days, and our order of marijuana was delivered to our door in cute little child-proof containers. We must have made a mistake somewhere, since the label listed it as being 16.7% THC and 0.06% CBD (w/w), whatever that means. We expected a cigarette type object, but instead got little dried plant bits. We were sure we couldn’t just roll it up in Kleenex or newspaper and light it on fire, but remained unsure what to do. Luckily, my sister kindly offered to drop off her bong for us to use, though it didn’t come with an instruction manual.

So here we are with a handful or so of cannabis, and no idea what to do with it. In the meantime, I hope my roommate doesn’t follow through with his original idea to just eat it. I no longer have a response when people say that legalization won’t make more people smoke marijuana. We tried, but at this rate, I am too dumb to take up smoking pot. And that’s a humbling realization.