Wednesday, March 11, 2020

Pregnancy and FOMO

Since reducing my cannabis consumption to the bare minimum (ie- purely medicinal), much has changed in the industry that I have had to abstain from. I have watched from the outside as edibles came to market, but have yet to partake because of my own individual physiology (edibles make my heart race, which is not good for baby). Same goes for concentrates; I see people freely enjoying shatter and rosin that were previously quite niche and shrouded in mystery, discovering the world of flavour that I myself had only just dipped my toe into (and was frankly enjoying!). I miss rolling joints; I miss sharing them along with coffee and conversation.

Then Vs. Now

As I look longingly at all the newfangled offerings available to Canadian consumers since late 2019, I have been feeling (for the first time since my early 20's) a certain sense of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out). Sure, pregnancy offers its own unique set of experiences; some awe-inspiring...some significantly less so- but this time in my life often feels like a 'gap year'. I don't worry overly about my physique; I know I've bounced back from far worse states, and I actually relish the hard work ahead of me to regain my strength and mobility.

However, after feeling like my personal growth was suspended for 3 years due to the disruptive effects of being unnecessarily medicated, in 2019 I had found myself eagerly attacking new experiences- only to have that brought to a screeching halt once again. My love of kayaking is a good example; I'd only just rediscovered my passion for it, and must now face the fact that by the time the ice recedes, I will no longer fit in my kayak, let alone be able to carry or paddle it properly.

I've also spent the winter sitting in various chalets, watching my daughter learn to ski with my husband, brother, and father- when I would have greatly preferred to be out there with them! Suffice to say, the last 6 months have been teaching me patience, and were mainly focused on introspection.

By no means do I resent my pregnancy, despite its challenges; when I was being medicated, my psychiatrist at the time told me to forget about having more children. She was of the opinion that I would never be able to handle the pressures of growing and mothering an infant again, and most of the medications she prescribed me were dangerous to a fetus anyway. At the time, my husband and I were devastated. It took years before either one of us could accept that our family was capped at 3. The guilt that weighed on me during that time, knowing what an incredible father my husband is, knowing how badly my daughter wanted to be a 'big sister' to someone- it was my fault, and was excruciating

My forthcoming baby boy is truly the best kind of gift- the kind that you never thought you would get. I roll my eyes at my cumbersome shape, but I'd not trade this waddling gait; or the 17 weeks of vomiting; or the inability to try Legalization 2.0 products; for anything. Besides, I've been granted the perfect opportunity to reflect, assess, and plan out my trajectory post-pregnancy! With that in mind, I've created two lists to sustain me;
  • Products / Events to Try (in the cannabis space), and;
  • Activities to Try (with/without cannabis)

Yes, I will miss the "420 for a whole month" thing. This will never come again, and I've resigned myself to that (I call this UTMO- "Used to Missing Out")! I will, however, have the opportunity to systematically reengage in the cannabis sphere and have a fresh perspective from which to evaluate my new experiences- and really, does it get much better than that, for a writer? Perspective is everything- and every change in my own circumstances will enhance my ability to discuss the various facets of my experience.

FOMO, I've discovered, is just opportunity in disguise.

Thursday, February 27, 2020

Weathering Pregnancy as a Cannabis Influencer

Pregnancy is such an amazing thing. The overwhelming changes to your body and mind make you feel as though you are hardly the same person you once were. I, for example, went from being only nominally emotive to having some seriously big feelings! It is difficult to adjust, but my personal history has taught me to roll with the punches rather than dwell on those things that are impossible to change; for me, curiosity is the remedy for uncertainty.

The difficulty with this ethos lies in external perception and opinion. I can feel my body change, and as willing as I am to dig into these new feelings and ride them out...others have a very staid and rigid view of my new circumstances. This is especially apparent in my interactions in the cannabis sphere.  Hearing all the opinions on your circumstances can really make you feel like nothing more than a container for a baby, rather than an autonomous human being with the authority to make her own sensible choices.

When I first discovered I was pregnant, I felt an immediate need to withdraw from my activities in the cannabis community; not only because I was throwing up endlessly, or because I had halted my consumption until I could speak with my doctor and midwife; but because I knew that continuing to write of my WEEDventures, take photos, or promote products would be seen in a negative light by many, even retroactively, and could be used against me. Something as simple as wearing my cannabis lapel pins became questionable as my belly grew more and more pronounced; to say nothing of the cannabis apparel that miraculously still fits (although honestly, it's just socks at this point).

So how does one manage to function on the periphery of an industry that is viewed as completely incompatible with pregnancy and parenting? In mainly female circles, you can find significantly more support for the challenges and choices pregnant women face in the cannabis sphere (whether they continue to medicate or not). I have, however, learned that outside of this, my pregnancy is an unappealing and distasteful 'caveat' that must be 'divulged' as though optics are a more central concern than an individual's well-being.

I'm not talking about seeing a pregnant woman take massive bong rips or huge sweat-inducing dabs; these are activities most often associated with recreational use, anyway, which I've abstained from in favour of vaping as-required. I'm talking about revoked invitations to events and activities, of stifled discussion, and otherwise preventing an individual from participating in something they're passionate about. Do you know how hard it is to tip-toe around a subject when you've already gained 20lbs? I couldn't be less agile!

Even when granted a forum for discussion, such as sitting on the panel at this Saturday's CannaCoalition potluck in Toronto, I must admit that I remain somewhat wary of my reception. Having said that, I can think of no other way to highlight the topic more broadly than to lay my own experiences bare. It is my ultimate hope that others may benefit from my transparency in this regard, which vastly outweighs any hesitation to be candid.

Tuesday, February 18, 2020

Personal Choices, and Things that are not at all Choices

In November 2019, I was thrilled to find out that my husband and I were expecting a baby! As soon as this news sunk in, I knew I was about to go through the wringer of indecision that accompanies a woman's journey through pregnancy. I remember it well from when I was pregnant with my daughter nearly 7 years ago! Societal pressures, medical advancements, old-timey wisdom, unsolicited opinions- all will inevitably factor in to my personal life for the next 9 months, whether I like it or not.

This time, however, I have the benefit of hindsight, and the gift of experience to draw from; not to mention a vivid memory of the harrowing trajectory my life took in the intervening years since my daughter was born in 2013, due in no small part to my unwillingness to advocate for myself with members of the medical community. Let's step back for a moment and examine this, shall we?

Unbeknownst to me, I suffered from untreated Post-Partum Depression. I also began my struggle with OCD at this time; essentially, I was bereft of feeling, and compensated by trying to be absolutely perfect at everything to do with my baby. In my mind, no one could care for her but me (including her father, to a certain extent). The stress was unbearable, but the oft repeated refrain of 'this is normal' and 'you'll get through it for your baby' convinced me I was just weak and dramatic. Then came my return to work.

I championed on, juggling my worsening OCD, my isolation, and the substantial pressures of proving myself not to be 'mom-brained' at my job. In my precarious state, I then encountered a triggering event that caused a tidal wave resurgence of PTSD from long-ago trauma. I began dissociating, losing huge gaps of time to memory loss ('dissociative seizures'); I shook constantly, became hyper-vigilant, experienced panic attacks, migraines, and a choking sensation that never fully eased; until finally, I went to the hospital directly from work, convinced I was dying. There, I was thoroughly misdiagnosed as bipolar, and medicated so inappropriately so as to border on malpractice. For 3 years.

Unsurprisingly, none of the medications worked. During my 3rd hospitalization in early 2017, a new doctor began a supervised detox and extensive testing that revealed what my previous doctor wouldn't admit in her hubris- that I was not bipolar, but suffered instead from long-standing, stubborn PTSD. Cannabis became my weapon of choice to fight these demons.

That spring/summer, I met new people who bolstered me and became very good friends; as a 'canna-mom' I loved every second with my daughter. Being a mom took on a new light- no longer a stressor, but rather a stress relief. Cannabis, combined with weekly therapy, accounted for significant improvement in my quality of life, and continues to do so.

So, when I became pregnant again I had some decisions to make. THC & CBD, as readily acknowledged by all my doctors, are the only things that have helped me regulate both physical symptoms and emotional distress. As we all know, however, recreational cannabis use during pregnancy is contraindicated, with no comment on medical use.

Naturally, I immediately stopped medicating. I also stopped sleeping because of nightmares, stopped eating due to lack of appetite (I was already 10lbs underweight at this point), and began to dissociate again with alarming frequency (not to mention the intrusive thoughts that came, too). My husband, my parents, asked me to reconsider making these changes to my cannabis medication regimen. Things were falling apart, and I felt I had nowhere to turn.

Enter my midwife, who listened and calmly suggested some practical changes to my regimen that would be healthier, but still allow me to medicate and be well. After all, I am not just a vessel for a fetus, but also a human being. She emphasized that the level of stress and fear that I carried was definitively proven to have adverse effects on a pregnancy.

I resumed medicating, with some changes; I stopped smoking joints and bongs, and I stopped consuming edibles; now relying solely on my vaporizer. I also now steer clear of concentrates, as the dosing is too high (and higher than I need, really). 

The risk of the unknown still weighs heavily on me, as it does on any woman who must continue a medication regimen through their pregnancy; be it antidepressants, anti-convulsants, or other. However, the support of my husband and family (those who know me best) comforts me that I am not alone, making a unilateral and potentially selfish decision. Not to mention that all my doctors are watching and supporting me and my baby- who is, I am thrilled to say, big and healthy, tumbling about happily in my ever-expanding tummy. 

Wednesday, November 20, 2019

Part 1: Discovery of the 'Magic Goo'

I initially scoffed at the idea of changing my smoking method; I had learned not to doubt the efficacy of my trusty joints many years earlier when those first big, boxy vaporizers came out, with claims of being the 'best' and 'most efficient' way to smoke pot. So, dabbing, I had you pegged as another silly, expensive fad that would prove disappointing; and I held that view for several years as my friends demonstrated titanium nails and terrifying full-sized blowtorches.

Then I saw things start to change. Suddenly those cute torches were not so scary; and damn were those teeny rigs adorable! Quartz bangers, e-rigs, handheld longer daunted, I finally took the plunge at the beginning of summer 2019 and got myself a rudimentary setup; a banger, a torch (not pictured because it was utter garbage, buyer beware), and carb cap; with the intention of using my bong to start out.

Having been generously gifted some shatter to begin with, I watched some videos and gingerly had at it myself. Some trial and error, and then I got the rhythm of it, improving my technique time over time. I invested in a new rig, but found myself far too frequently replacing bangers (and butane)- until I was taught the trick of the Cold Start Dab (thanks again, 710Kingston!).

Cold Starts changed everything for me. Suddenly those higher-priced bangers made sense once you added some longevity to them! I began to browse Instagram, ogling ornate, decadent-looking bangers. This is how I stumbled across The Smoking Quartz; or, more specifically, their Quartz & Concentrates Blog, which served to flesh out my knowledge, and introduce something I'd not heard of yet; Reclaim.

I read up on it with great interest; essentially, reclaim is the reconstitution of vaporized concentrates. You know, the goop on the inside of your rig (or your teeth, if you're unlucky). It turns out this goop is goddamn magic. It is potent, already decarbed, and not altogether unpleasant-tasting on its own; but can also be reused in the form of topicals, edibles, or even to be dabbed again (though I am personally convinced this is not it's desired reincarnation).

I know what you're thinking; yeah, that's just like pipe resin; but you couldn't be more wrong. Although both resin and reclaim share the characteristic high potency, resin is tarrish and foul-tasting, often nauseating, and only for the truly desperate (no judgement; we've all been there).

Reclaim, on the other hand is a caramel-coloured nectar that floats sweetly on the water in your rig. How do you collect it from the water's surface? I honestly have no clue; and for this reason I purchased a Reclaim Catcher (The Smoking Quartz Classic Beaker Style Reclaim Catcher, $69.99):

Seems too good to be true, right? That you can do dabs, and from there collect some magic goo that can immediately be re-purposed into all sorts of things. Well, have patience, my friends; because it does take some time to collect a critical amount of reclaim. Here are some observations that I have made when it comes to capturing it most efficiently:

  • Charred concentrates will produce reclaim, but it will, in fact, taste charred.
  • A 45 degree banger will funnel reclaim more effectively into your Reclaim Catcher (rather than a 90).
  • It is sticky. No, even stickier than you're thinking. Never try to handle it with your fingers.
  • Natural cleaners are best for rigs that you intend to catch reclaim from (I use Dark Crystal Glass). 
After using my catcher for a few weeks, I have now gathered enough reclaim to attempt to give it a second life. My next step will be to retrieve what I've accumulated, which, to be honest, appears daunting given the nature of the substance I'm working with. Here's hoping that magical goo is as easy to harvest as it was to produce! Stay tuned!

Thursday, November 7, 2019

WEEDventure #6: MK Ultra and Grocery Shopping

I have a love-hate relationship with grocery shopping. I love food; but the huge open space of the store (and the fluorescent lighting), triggers episodes that impair my ability to shop. Enter, cannabis. They say that you should never do groceries hungry, or you risk buying more than you need; but what about doing groceries high?

Strain: MK Ultra
Activity: Grocery Shopping
Hypothesis: Given that the grocery store environment amplifies my episodes, and cannabis helps to soothe them, consuming cannabis before going grocery shopping should help cancel that out. I have some concern that I may over-buy due to increased appetite- but that's a risk I'm willing to take.

I come from a large French family of cooks and chefs; for us, eating is not just sustenance. Our whole interaction is formulated around what meals we will make together; usually very elaborate, multi-phased affairs, always from scratch. As such, grocery shopping is not just a 'trip to the store'; it is Step One to creating memories and laughter. It would not be uncommon to spot my whole family going from market, to store, to roadside stand looking for the exact right ingredient.

I, however, have come to realize that the fluorescent lights, the low hums, and the echoing spaces of your average grocery store overwhelm me and cause me to dissociate. Any more than 15 minutes in one and I experience nausea, blurred vision, confusion, and fear. 

Usually, cannabis is not an option for this particular activity since I must drive the short distance to and from the store; but this time, my husband was available to act as chauffeur. I had the time to contemplate my strain selection well, though I found myself torn. It was 8:30am, which would be the right time for a sativa; however I knew that if I was going to do a successful shop, I needed to use the strain that protects me best- i.e., an indica.

I hummed and hawed for a while before finally deciding to dab some MK Ultra; a peppery, earthy-tasting indica that hits you like a hammer wrapped in lemon rind. While most use this strain for sleep, I have found that dabbing it will give me more energetic effects than if I were smoking is as flower- making it suitable for more than the couch.

I did a couple smaller dabs of the MK Ultra, and we set out to the grocery store. I was feeling the usual mix of relaxed euphoria juxtaposed my hypervigilance as we arrived, and unwittingly forgot the shopping bags in the car (as you do). While my husband ran back to get them, I strolled into the store, and began to shop for the makings for my daughter's birthday dinner.

Maybe it was the earliness of the hour that accounted for fewer people, but I did not feel the usual aggravation and uneasiness that comes with being herded with other humans inside a building. I blithely collected a cart and began with the produce (we're making homemade pizza). I got through deli and dairy before my husband rejoined me. He asked me how I was doing, and I assured him I was fine- clear-headed with a sunny outlook.

Then, however, we passed coffee and proceeded to cereal.  Suddenly, a wave of giddiness had me laughing and placing not one, but two boxes of junk cereal into the cart. This is what I had feared in getting stoned before grocery shopping: the irresistible lure of junk food. Trix and Oreo cereals in my cart, I moved to the next aisle, the freezer aisle; and that is when the munchies really hit.

I was literally salivating as we walked past the chips- they are my weakness. Those, and the pogos, pizza pops, poutine bites... I nearly wept as my husband, never the voice of reason, swept us right on by to pick up one final item. Once he'd successfully located the boring old cornmeal, he dragged me mercilessly through the discount Hallowe'en candy to the checkout. The environment of the grocery store may not have triggered me as yet, but the annoyance I felt at the countless goodies we bypassed was very real.

We'd been in the store for about 30 minutes collecting the various items we needed. In that time, I'd not had any episodes; however I did emerge with some junk cereal and a few choice comments about my husband's first ever display of restraint.

The Verdict: Cannabis did indeed provide the relief I needed to avoid any episodes at the grocery store; however, I did find myself leaving with my usual harassed demeanor- this time, because I was not able to indulge in the snack foods I suddenly craved. I also left with Trix - who even eats that!?!? 

Recommendation: I recommend cannabis before grocery shopping only if you have a chaperone! 

Wednesday, October 30, 2019

WEEDventure # 5: Blueberry and Getting Married

When I was 26, I was in the habit of toking in the evening to alleviate stress; but as my wedding day crept up, I stopped. I've always wondered what it would have been like if I had partaken on that occasion. Lucky for me, I had the opportunity to play the part of 'bride' at the Cannabis Wedding Expo in Toronto last weekend, and found out just what cannabis adds to the experience of getting hitched.
Strain: Blueberry
Activity: Getting Married
Hypothesis: Given that weddings are usually seen as stress wrapped in tulle and bows, the interjection of cannabis into the bride's preparations should serve to calm anxiety and relax the celebration 

I have learned a lot about managing my anxiety and stress in the time since I got married; but on my wedding day in 2011, I had none of this perspective (or the tools I've since developed). I was a raw nerve, unable to eat or sleep; and either always angry, or dissociated. I didn't know why, but neither was I willing to do anything to change it. I thought "it is what it is", and dragged myself onward. The result was a (by all accounts) wonderful day...that I can hardly remember.

On Sunday, as I stood before the Berkeley Church at 8:30am, I had a moment's trepidation. Though an expo, this was styled very much as an actual wedding; there were the guests, place settings, decorations, flowers, photographers, an ebullient planner, a striking harpist. But before I was able to make too many associations to my own wedding, I was swept inside to start getting ready.

Afraid to be a nuisance but really needing to medicate, I asked the founder of the expo, our host Philip, if it would be okay for me to slip outside for a quick puff before everything starts. This is when I realized that a cannabis wedding is unlike any other formal event I've attended; not only was I graciously encouraged to medicate as needed, but I was not hidden away- and I even had company!

For the occasion, I had chosen to bring some of my homegrown Blueberry with me. She's a wonderful hybrid with a sweet-fruity-tangy aroma that very much carries through to her flavour. Now, I have found that the effect of other Blueberry bud I've tried is relatively sedative; but my Blue starts clever and euphoric, ending with a relaxed slide back into sobriety.

I had rolled up a couple of blunts to share, and a few more medicinally-sized joints for in between. When Lizzie, (@tokuspocus) the other model, arrived, she joined me outside and introduced herself; then lent her lungpower to the joint. By the time we finished it we were well acquainted, so we went back inside for hair and makeup. I don't know about my friend, but smoking a joint before relinquishing myself into the talented hands of @blackcatbeauty_guelph was a much more pleasant experience than my previous anxiety-riddled preparations. On that day, I have a vague recollection of staring at myself in the mirror and not recognizing the person staring back. Not because my hair or makeup didn't suit me, but because my anxiety, even that early in the day, had already been causing me distress.

Not so on Sunday; we listened to some upbeat music and chatted until we were beautifully made up and styled. At this point we decided that another joint was necessary, as we did not want to get the smell of smoke on the gorgeous dresses we'd glimpsed being steamed for us. Our second Blueberry doob was just enough to resume my relaxation (and keep the tremor at bay!).

I was elated when I stepped into the gorgeous gown that @luxecollectionbridal had created. The wedding dress that I wore at my own wedding years ago was trumpet-shaped; i.e. very form fitting and highly structured (read: heavy). I adore that dress and the silhouette, but one of the things I do recall was how pinned in place I felt, and how that worsened my anxiety (I can't even wear a bra without feeling suffocated). Cut to Sunday when I was slipped into a light and elegant dress that, to my delight, not only suited me to a T, but was a perfect fit... and quite comfortable!

I felt relaxed, and beautiful. I was smiling and laughing, joking with the others, not feeling at all out-of-place or awkward. I was able to let go and enjoy the experience of being beautified, without the overwhelming dread of being noticed. I told myself going into this that I would not be cowed by anxiety or fear. As it turns out, the introduction of cannabis allowed me to relax enough to talk to and relate to people (both guests and exhibitors)- and those connections sustained me throughout the day. This is in very stark contrast to my actual wedding, at which I felt like a spectacle, inaccessible and removed from the event.

Although my perspective was from a bride's vantage point, it was obvious that the openness of the cannabis community has a marked influence on a wedding. Some may initially believe that the integration of weed into a formal event to be unfeasible; but they would be decidedly wrong in that. To be honest, I have to say that I, myself was wrong in some of my assumptions about weddings, as well.

I learned that a formal occasion does not have to be highly-strung to be impressive. Elegance and beauty can be achieved without stress and chew; pomp and circumstance can be complimented with smiles and laughter rather than a serious demeanor. I learned that the ingenuity and flexibility of service providers in the cannabis space is tremendously beneficial when it comes to making your wedding yours. And finally, I learned that as a bride, cannabis can be a great way to step back from your concerns about all the awful things that could go wrong on your special day!

...Just remember to be ready with that midnight buffet (mine was poutine!)

The Verdict: As a bride, cannabis allows you to be centered and calm, and actually enjoy your wedding day. I found myself more mindful of the details of the day, and was pleased to engage with guests. My hybrid Blueberry was the ideal strain for me, although I am convinced that even a 1:1 THC:CBD or an entirely CBD strain would be effective in providing grounding against the anxiety. 

As a guest- well, you'll have to tell me (in the comments)!

Recommendation: I would recommend cannabis to a bride; however, you'll want to give some thought to red-eye in pictures!

Tuesday, October 22, 2019

WEEDventure #4: Sour Gelato and Car Care

For some reason, my husband periodically feels the need to invite me to help him with his favourite hobby; obsessively caring for his car. My usual reaction is a strict negative, and I take advantage of the time to do something I enjoy. This time, however, in my endless pursuit of knowledge, I decided to participate- suitably bolstered by cannabis.

Strain: Sour Gelato (Hybrid)
Activity: Car Care
Hypothesis: As with many tedious chores, car care should be made a more tolerable pastime to engage in after smoking a blunt. 

In the hectic toing-and-froing of life, particularly at this time of year, husband and I have had to really make an effort to do things together, rather than just trading off responsibilities. Each of us will take turns doing things we don't particularly enjoy in order to pursue a conversation begun hours before.

With my daughter at a friend's house for the afternoon, my husband had decided to begin the process of winterizing his 2017 Mustang Shelby. Knowing what a drawn-out process this would undoubtedly be, I grumbled at his choice of chore before ultimately deciding that this may just have the potential to be a great activity to try stoned.

As Mary Poppins says "For every job that must be done, there is an element of fun...find that fun, and snap! that job's a game!" So I decided that cannabis would be just the teaspoon of sugar to make an afternoon of car care bearable.

For this activity, I briefly considered asking my husband's opinion on my choice of strain; but given our vastly different reactions to pot, I rejected that thought pretty quickly. The Sour Gelato I eventually chose would have sent him for a tailspin, whereas I felt the well-balanced effects of relaxation and euphoria expected from this even-tempered hybrid. I find that the different characteristic effects of this strain really reveal themselves in a unique way from person to person, but usually hit pretty center on the 'high/stoned' continuum. Potency is certainly there in spades; despite this, I rolled myself an entire solo blunt.

I lit up as my husband "got the car ready" for me to clean. Although I am admittedly the farthest thing from a 'car person' there is, it was difficult not to take umbrage at the extraordinary lengths this man went to to make sure I couldn't damage his prized possession.

We began by spraying on some sort of coating, then rubbing it in; I was assigned the passenger-side door. Within moments, as I was crouched next to the car, I began to feel uneasy. Hyper-vigilance is my ever-present companion, but it rarely becomes evident at home...unless, say, someone were staring at me intently.

My husband couldn't help himself. He began offering small suggestions, finally asking for my cloth to properly demonstrate the technique to avoid leaving streaks.

Already bored of this activity, I was more than happy to let him take over.

As was slowly becoming apparent, no amount of sugar was going to make this task more palatable for me. The Sour Gelato had, however, provoked a fit of giggles that only intensified the more anal my husband became over the car's treatment. He was so endearingly earnest in his attempts to teach me something, anything, about how to care for a vehicle, that he suddenly reminded me of my father, who made the initial futile attempts to impart car knowledge onto me; followed several years later by my uncle Leo's equally doomed lessons. I just can't seem to summon any enthusiasm to learn about cars. Even with the questionable assistance of cannabis.

The final straw for my husband was when he popped the hood, undoubtedly disappointed to not hear me gasp in awe and delight at the reveal of the car's insides. No, my reaction differed somewhat:

As he closed the hood and completed my half-finished jobs, slumped in dejection at my unrestrained mirth and blatant lack of interest, I realized that although the activity left me nonplussed, there were some parts that I enjoyed. 

Spending quality time with my husband, seeing him in his element, and taking a learning role to his teaching one served to change my perspective just a bit. Car maintenance is something that I loathe; so isn't it a wonderful coincidence that my partner takes such pride in caring for ours? I was reminded, in all this, that our differences are vital; I mean, if we were all car people, then who would grow the pot?

The Verdict: Cannabis did not prove effective in enhancing my enjoyment of car care tasks. I became concerned that I wasn't doing it right; but more than anything, I became bored. I do not believe a different strain would have helped; however, this giggly hybrid did give me some fun times injected into the tedium.

Recommendation: I do not advise performing car care while high, unless you really, really, really, love it.