So drugs. Now, writing this one was strange for me. What if my Mum sees this? What if I accidentally incriminate myself? What if I ruin many endless future job opportunities with the BBC after my very employable degree and journalistic endeavours?
But then I remembered, one must suffer for their art. (And it’s a weed brownie, not a bag O’ coke).
With no real interest in drugs, being neither for or against, I felt I should at least try it, and make my own mind up on the matter. Having tried weed (in the smoking form) before and being largely unsuccessful, largely due to the fact I cannot inhale without chocking half to death, and being unable to differentiate the drunkenness from the high may also have had something to do with it. A friend then kindly gave me an epiphany, and kindly suggested I try it in brownie-form. Being 20 years old now, and having never really been high (pretending in the company of others in my younger days), I felt now was my time.
But first, I must investigate.
Looking up recipes we were astonished at the level of baking expertise out there, the sophication and creativity of this weed underworld, of which I was a complete novice. An entire webpage, The Stoner’s Cookbook, dedicated to weed-infused recipes. But be warned… “this is not just a cookbook. This is a movement”.
‘Asian Chicken Salad with Wasabi Vinaigrette’, ‘Cream of Cannibis Soup’, to ‘Ganja Nachos’, and simply, ‘Weed Omlette’ – the possibilities were endless. It could be pretty classy too, with editors in the likes of Vogue giving it a whirl.
It is important to consider the size of the dose when cooking/baking with weed, so as to avoid a ‘bad trip’, (ALSO, nobody mentions how bloody long it takes, you need to dedicate at least 3-5 hours to make the ‘Cannabutter’, to extract the ‘THC’). The stigma attached to weed has always been something I’ve been intrigued by. Despite knowing the drug is largely safe, it is strange to think that eating one small weed brownie is against the law, yet drinking an entire bottle of Glenn’s vodka is perfectly alright. Even after considering this hypocrisy, I still couldn’t help feeling like the Juarez drug cartel on my Breaking Bad-style excursion.
Surely this was the high life (pun intended)? This was the slippery slope to my inevitable demise. But ‘weed brownie’ naturally sounds so harmless and welcoming. –Were there any dangers I should know about? With edibles the effect is obviously delayed for about 30 mins or more, causing people to become impatient and take more; the symptoms are then more pronounced.
Looking up the effects and recipes online, this definitely appeared to be more popular in America, but what about in the UK? I was amazed and highly (pun intended) amused to find a recipe and step-by-step guide from leading chef, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall in the Independent?!
And rest assured I thought ‘fuck it’, he was my green card, my hall-pass. I had no reason to worry. Taking this into account, I was good and sensible to eat just a couple of brownies, then waited a century to feel the infamous ‘high’. But as the ‘THC’ takes ages as it is ingested and not inhaled, it really does feel like a lifetime. I was pretty bored waiting. Sipping my wine gingerly, to quicken the effects, I soon felt different. My mistake, as edibles are apparently the most intense marijuana experience one can experience.
Sure enough, it hit me. Hit me out of the blue like a big, fat, drug bus. And boom I was ‘high’.
At first I felt heavy, and tired. Speech was delayed, and I just had no intention of moving off that sofa. But then with the added effects of alcohol, I was restless and nervous, and everything all at once. I began shaking uncontrollably, in my room alone and couldn’t sleep and couldn’t stop talking to myself. I had to get my friend to cuddle me like a big baby until I eventually fell asleep. I felt really lightheaded and out of touch, not in control at all. I’ve been heavily intoxicated many times over, and still felt fairly in control, but for some unknown reason, weed seemed to have the adverse effect on me. Doing my best Linda Blair in The Exorcist impression, possessed by a mysterious entity, with the added bouts of weed-induced paranoia soon felt shit and not much fun really.
Terrified about having to get up the following morning and complete an essay for fear of feeling like complete and utter shit, I was pleasantly surprised wake up to no hangover. I actually felt pretty refreshed and myself once more.
After relaying my weird experience, I soon found it wasn’t really the norm. As a poor student living off mere bread and water, we came to the conclusion this was largely down to a severe sugar-rush, having had no such ‘cake’, for the best part of six months.
Still, I’m proud to say I have finally been ‘high’ in some sense of the word,
[Serena Ruberto – @shrpixie]