I am many things, but graceful is not one of them. If you've seen my Instagram feed lately, you may have noticed a daring fashion statement in the form of a blue-green and white shoulder sling. Luckily it was a short lived trend.
Last Wednesday evening, while returning home from the Florida Brewer's Conference, I had an incident. After a delayed flight and long wait on the tarmac, I was finally through the airport and on the way to the parking garage. It was 9 o'clock at night and I was eager to get home at last. Then I took a tumble. My suitcase wheel caught on a bit of weather stripping that though I was able to safely cross, my suitcase was not. I had enough momentum behind me that the sudden halt pulled me off my feet and I went down...hard. I landed on my left shoulder, face, and knee. It was not pretty and the concrete I landed on was very unforgiving. A passing family who saw me go down, ran to help me sit up, and helped me review my injuries while security and medics sprinted over. My face was scraped up, my knee banged up, though my jeans were thankfully not torn from the fall, and then I realized that I couldn't move my left arm. At all. Which as I'm sure you can guess was very distressing.
The medics came by, offered me an ambulance and an ice pack, and surmized that I probably dislocated my shoulder and hopefully didn't have a concussion. I did, after all, land on my face. I declined the ambulance, as I was still 30 minutes from home and called my mom & boyfriend to come rescue me. I called both, one because someone had to drive my car home, and two because my boyfriend didn't pick up the first time. He's really not the greatest on communication via phone. This was actually the second time he hasn't picked up in an emergency, so he's 2 for 2. He wonders why he's not my emergency contact.
The part that was probably the most distressing was after the medics looked me over, after the security officer gave me an incident report, and after the lovely family that came to my rescue left to get their daughter, I was left completely alone. The medics and security officer put me in a wheelchair by the door to the rental lot with just an icepack and a number to call if I needed help. Then left me to wait. By myself. I'm not a medical professional but I'm pretty sure you are not supposed to leave someone who fell and kinda landed on their face unsupervised. Just an observation.
We were in the ER till about 1:30am. I did dislocate my left shoulder in "a very unique way" and had to be put under to get it popped back in place. Best for all parties involved really because I tend to swear and quite possibly hit when wounded. I don't mean it, but it can totally happen. I made it home by 2 am and didn't sleep a wink. I don't usually sleep on my back, which was my only option, and my left arm was wrapped to my side like it was going to run away first chance it got, not that I would blame it.
Needless to say I wasn't able to write much in those first few days. I am not the fastest typer and one handed, I am a complete mess. However, I am on the mend and back to getting some posts out to you all. Luckily I'm right handed so my ability to cheers over the weekend was not inhibited.
There are moments in life that seem so surreal that you aren't really sure they are actually happening.
This was my past Thursday at the Cannabis Drinks Expo and after-expo event.
As you know from my previous post, I was one of the lucky exhibitors for the first global Cannabis Drinks Expo. If you read my previous post, you know that I had a number of questions. To summarize: I knew nothing about cannabis. So I was 100% ready to learn all I could about this new and growing category in beverage.
I arrived at the expo, not really knowing what to anticipate. Booth tables decked out in tie-dye? Grateful Dead posters? A snack table laden with munchies? Again, ya’ll forgive me if this is stereotypical. All I know about cannabis came from movies. I did decide to sport my favorite and only blue pineapple sundress, which seemed entirely appropriate, all things considered, and absolutely hysterical to me. Pineapple Express anyone?
When I breezed through the doors of the expo, I was met with a wide variety of folks. Business types in suits preparing for a presentation, sales professionals in their logoed polos, a few definitely within the tie-dye crowd, and a myriad of others that looked, well completely normal. It didn’t look anything unlike the many expos I’ve been to before. Except all the event posters had pot leaves on them.
Now before you ask, this was a non-sampling event. No THC products were allowed on the expo floor, and anyone sampling beverages had to use samples sans THC. A few were very disheartened to learn this.
For the majority of the event I was manning the booth. I did not get to attend the lectures much to my distress, not because it wasn’t possible, but more cause that’s how expos go. You get caught up talking to potential customers, lose track of time, and before you know it you’ve missed the discussion on Cannabis and mixed cocktails you had been meaning to attend. It happens. However, having the opportunity to chat with everyone at the expo did give me some answers to my questions.
The percent THC and how it impacts the drinker depends on a number of different factors. Tolerance, weight, if you’ve eaten etc. are all factors considered with how your body absorbs THC. It’s a lot like drinking alcohol. Some have a higher tolerance than others. Since I had never tried anything previously, the general advice was to take it slow, but that I would eventually feel the buzz much like you do when having alcohol. Furthermore, different strains of cannabis would have different effects. This information actually came from my Uber driver who was incredibly well informed. For example, the Indica strain (strain, leaf, brand?) usually brought on a more mellow experience and was more likely to be the kind to put you to sleep, while Sativa was a more energizing strain, more likely to give you some happy pep and probably not the best to take before bed.
As to all my questions on legal standings, it seems to be generally understood that what is on the books today is changing by tomorrow. Essentially the legal scope of this industry is by no means stable, so everyone is kind of just rolling with the punches. However, what I did hear is that how much THC or CBD in the product is managed by an allowed amount of mg per container. So container size does somehow dictate the percentage. Draft is still not an option yet mostly because on premise consumption isn’t allowed, but in San Francisco they have begun to allow consumption lounges where product can be purchased and consumed on site. So I wouldn’t consider having draft as an option an unlikely possibility in the near future. Though at the moment no one seems to have really attempted to dispense on draft, so there still is some testing to be done.
Overall the event was an excellent source of information, but the aspect of what impact taste would have on the beverage with the THC was better answered later that night. I was invited to an after-expo event held at one of those consumption lounges. So I went, bringing my family with me which already seemed like an unlikely start to the night. My mother was particularly excited to attend, which did not go along with my high school experience. Times must be a changing.
We arrived at the consumption lounge and dispensary called Moe Greens. There was a bouncer outside like a number of bars I’ve walked into before, a couple laughing hysterically clinging to a tree while their friends waited for them to calm down, and a man attempting to get on a bicycle with minimal success. Yep like several bars I’ve been to before. We walked through the door and were greeted by a sparkling entryway, decked out in gold, green, and wood walled seventies glory. A concierge checked each of us in. Behind that was the sales counter, well lit with all their flowers, edibles, topicals, and beverages displayed behind the counter and on an iPad. The cashiers were patiently waiting to guide you through the world of cannabis. It was nice. Not sure what I expected but it wasn’t this. We walked to the end and turned in our invitation and were promptly handed a THC infused nonalcoholic beer from the event sponsor, Two Roots. They were offering a lager, IPA, blonde, and wheat. We each chose a separate one so we could try all of their flavors. Then the host took us into the consumption lounge. This room smelled like what I expected.
As the cloud of smoke cleared, we could see there were people seated at tables and standing around socializing. Okay it wasn’t that smoky, but it was definitely in the air. On the tables there were caddies filled with grinders, lighters, pipes, and papers. There were also warning signs of what to do if you experienced a bad high, and when it would probably be a bad idea to partake. The host welcomed us in and then offered us a joint. It was totally acceptable for where we were but just seemed odd to me. Also none of us smoke, so we politely declined. This brings me to the first sip of the beverage. I had the blonde which was a touch hoppy for a blonde to my taste buds, but that may have been the THC talking. I tried a sip of the lager, which was definitely more malt forward than the blonde had been. Each beverage was only about 5% THC, but I nursed mine, very much aware that I was a newbie and not wanting anything on the warning cards to happen to me. After a few sips, my mouth was dried out, which is apparently a symptom of the THC consumption. Dry-mouth. The water cooler by the wall made all the more sense.
I felt like a fly on the wall, just observing as the couple at the table next to us packed and lit the pipe, blowing a big cloud of smoke above them. My dad and boyfriend had already finished their drinks and were happily people watching. My mother was the social butterfly that she has always been, talking to several people from the expo about CBD and THC. It seemed odd. Surreal in a way. Then in walked my boss and co-worker. I knew they were coming, industry event and all, but it still seemed like an odd place to meet your co-workers. They also had my customers with them, which made it seem all the more strange. They all grabbed their beer, and one of my customers snagged a joint. It’s legal where they come from which I guess made this nothing new. Then they all came into the consumption lounge and I introduced them to my family.
A lighter came out and they lit the joint and passed it around. My family didn’t join, as like I said, we don’t smoke. But others did. After a minute I took a look around and thought I must be high. This was too surreal of a moment for it to possibly be happening. I was standing in a cannabis dispensary, in a consumption lounge with smoke all around, and a joint being passed. Already highly unlikely and not where I ever thought I would be. I was also standing in this room with my family. My mother had been known for a rather staunch opinion on cannabis and her children when I was in high school, but there she was standing beside me. That didn’t seem right. My boss was standing opposite me, chatting with my family. Wait, I was here for work? My customers happily puffed on a joint at the table beside us. What on earth was going on?! This was not the happy awe but definitely in the court of dumfounded shock. I had to be high.
I must have had an odd look on my face because someone grinned at me and asked if I was feeling alright. I smiled and explained the surreal moment I was standing in.
“This is a first for me, and really weird. I don’t think I’m doing this whole cannabis thing right.” I said.
That got a chuckle from everyone. They agreed this was probably a strange first time. We left shortly after, none of us really wanting to push the limit with another beverage. I must admit I didn’t feel much different, apart from the symptom of dry-mouth. My boyfriend and dad seemed to be just fine as well, but they weren’t saying much so who could tell. My mother managed to get back to the hotel before she started laughing hysterically.
It tokes one to know, I guess.
My honey is essentially like Mr. Magoo. You know the adorable older man who's nearsighted nature and inability to admit to any issue often lands him in comical situations. In a nut shell, this is my darling man. He may not be nearsighted nor a retiree. but his vision struggles enough and there are those forgetful moments that are so much funnier when blamed on getting older... at least when you are young.
At times it is incredibly frustrating that he manages to grasp so much and so little in the same swoop, but its also incredibly endearing when he is so delightfully clueless.
So I've been simmering all week on what to do for him this Valentine's Day. There was a brief thought of decorating our lingering Christmas tree with hearts, half because it would be funny and half because it might spur my honey to actually take it to the dump. I don't find the last one likely, but I mean Valentine's trees are totally a thing, right? If not they should be. We could decorate with hearts and tiny champagne bottles, string them with lingerie, and add boxes of chocolate strawberries beneath it.
This needs to be a thing!
Anyway I was contemplating what to do for my honey, and then he locked himself out of the house.
For the tenth time.
Unfortunately, I had already left for work and he had to walk a mile to my parent's house, dog in tow, in the pouring rain.
For the fourth time.
My mother called and after she stopped laughing hysterically at the sight of him and the dog soaking wet in the foyer waiting for the spare key and a ride home, she informed me again that we really needed to get a keyless entry. I was starting to agree, seeing as how I have yet to lock myself out of the house and had already placed a key hook right next to the front door, but yet he still managed to make this happen more than once.
And then he went and did it again.
Luckily, I was home this time and was able to let him back in to snag his keys and be on his way. Also it wasn't raining so there was no pitiful sight to behold as I opened the door in my bathrobe.
After getting to work today I sent him the following:
Roses are red, Violets are blue,
Dear sweet forgetful Mr. Magoo
for this Valentine's Day,
a front door keyless entry
is my loving gift to you.
He did not seem to find this as amusing as I did, seeing as how he didn't respond the rest of the day. Some people may take that as a sign they aren't that funny. I, however, am hilarious. He just has a tough time laughing at himself, or admitting that there is anything wrong.
But I bet you know what he's getting for Valentine's!
Happy Valentine's Day to all of you! XO!
Celebrating all that we raise, sip, guzzle, clink, drinks and most affectionately cheers with!