Many, many years ago (OK, four years ago), I was a student living the life in San Francisco. As your average college kid, I spent more than one afternoon smoking blunts before heading back to the library for a study sesh.
But now, as a legitimate adult with a full-time job and tax returns, my weed tolerance is lower than it used to be.
If I participate in all the classic 420 festivities San Francisco has to offer, will I survive?
That was the question I posed to my editors. Oddly enough, they agreed to let me be my own Guinea pig and test my cannabis limits -- for the sake of journalism, of course.
For each update, I'll let y'all know how high I am on a scale from 1 to 10. One being ready-to-go-into-a-job-interview sober and 10 being blazed-out-of-my-mind-what-the-what-are-colors high.
Update - 9:20 am, Level of Stonedness: 1
Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and I made a little time to squeeze it in before driving from Santa Barbara to San Francisco. I should also note that I am not driving, and unless you also have a boyfriend/chauffeur you affectionately call Michel, then I suggest you hold off on the edibles until you arrive at your destination.
Yes, we are ah-sizzling today. P.S. Flat-ironing at 420 degrees will fry the ever living sh*t out of your hair, so proceed with caution, canna-friends.
Leaving for SF now... wish us well.
Update - 1:02 pm, Level of Stonedness: 4
We're 1.5 hours out from our destination and not gonna lie, I feel prrrretty lit. That special brownie has definitely kicked in and combined with the massive pile of In-N-Out I recently consumed, it's safe to say I'm at a so-so-stuffed-but-could-still-eat-another-bite level of stonedness.
In other words, right where I want to be.
It's almost 4:20 on the East Coast which means we still have about 3 hours left until real 4:20 begins. Wish me luck, everybody. Pulling out my vape pen as I type this most heartfelt update.
Update - 1:43 pm, Level of Stonedness: 4.20 heh, heh
If you haven't checked out our Snapchat game today, you need to get on that ASAP -- unless, that is, you're not into stoned, improvised karaoke.
In honor of 420 hitting the East Coast, I may have puffed the vape pen a solid dozen or so times and am currently riding the transcendent waves of positive energy and good times. That's how I know we're getting close to SF by the way -- I don't check maps or anything, I just go off of increasing intensities of nostalgia.
I want to also note that I should be feeling really nauseous right now. Looking at my phone nonstop while flying down the freeway with mangled animal fries by my feet should make anyone want to vom. But thanks to the restorative powers of cannabis, I only feel mildly disgusted. We need to legalize cannabis just for the sake of car blogging.
And now, let me step off my soapbox for a sec to fully enjoy the sights and the beige industrial wasteland that is San Jose right outside my window.
Update - 2:28 pm, Level of Stonedness: You Tell Me
My gynecologist just called and our conversation literally went like this:
Dr. Donna: "Hi, Kate? Just wanted to let you know your test results came back and you tested negative for celiac."
Me: "Aw, nice! I'm gonna go eat a sandwich. Hah."
Dr. Donna: "Congratulations."
Do you think she knows?
Update - 3:11 pm, Level of Stonedness: 3.5
My high hit a slight dip after checking into our Airbnb and panicking thinking that I'd never open the door. Old Victorian buildings with old Victorian locks are a serious pain in the ass to figure out when you're stoned. I honestly don't know how anyone gets inside their homes around here.
Anyway, my elation for being in San Fran will not be dampened and we will continue to lift our spirits herbally as we take a stroll down to hippie hill for 420 festivities. Brb, babes.
Update - 5:20 pm, Level of Stonedness: What are "levels," really?
So, 4:20 came and went and an hour later I am still feeling sweet as ice tea on a hot summer's day -- as in like, in-my-mind-reverse-engineering-this-sh*t blazed.
Here's my tiny review of 420 at Hippie Hill.
Pros: Theres nothing like interacting with the community on 420 in GG Park. All walks of life come out to enjoy and celebrate cannabis, showing just how inclusive the culture is. You realize all stereotypes are entirely unfounded because we are all unique individuals who, through our love for cannabis, share an unbreakable bond.
Cons: Don't drive unless you want to die... spiritually. Parking is a complete and total nightmare, so if you are attempting to go anywhere with a car in this neighborhood, don't. It will warp your feel-good, nonviolent vibes into a full-blown rage, and that can't be good for anybody.
And a pro tip: The best way to work your way through a crowd is to link on to the back of a mambo line of tween girls. They're determined AF.
Ultimately, feeling blissed out in a massive crowd full of strangers is an experience you can really only have on 420. But it should be a ritual we can have everyday, because weed, at its core, is the only substance that's truly for the people, by the people.
Now, as we take a step away from the park to find some dank burritos, we bid ado to the space and stow away the memories as we promise ourselves to continue living in each fleeting moment.
I always wanted to write my own version of Malcolm Lowry's "Under the Volcano," and now I am, in a way. But instead of getting drunk on mescal and stumbling through Mexico, I'm getting high on Holy Grail Kush and meandering through San Francisco. Thanks to marijuana, dreams really do come true.
Stay tuned for more, and in the meantime, follow along with our adventures on Snapchat: EliteDailySnap.