My chronicles with chronic.

I have a lot of family. When I was little, my uncle (who passed many years ago) used to pick me up and throw me over his shoulder and rub his unshaven face on mine til my cheeks turned pink. He also used to call my mom "Marihuana," which to me at the time, was just her first name in spanish. I never really understood why my mom would get so mad. Or why my cousin's aunt always called them her 'little cigarettes'.

I suppose I've been around it all my life. I started smoking pot when I was 15. The very first time I was with my uncle and cousins (who were younger than myself and were buying and selling regularly) and we drove all the way to the outskirts of town to pop fireworks for 4th of July. I know I didn't inhale properly. Whatever, the fireworks were fun.

The second time I was with a friend who later developed a serious drug problem. We drove around in her friends BMW downtown (back when gas wasn't $4 a gallon) with the windows open and went to the Family Thrift center and had a really great time. I remember laughing, and being so happy about life.

Today I'm 18 (with a birthday in a few months) and smoking daily. I don't laugh much anymore, but I love smoking. On my trips to Texas my best friend and I will go through an ounce in a week. I can go without smoking, although I would rather not. When I'm not smoking my depression and anxiety become worse, and I'm never hungry.

And that's what this blog is going to be about. My chronicles with chronic, so to speak. You can read about my depression when bouts hit and read how pot effects it, see what I do when I'm stoned, see what pipes and bongs I'm looking to buy, my favorite rolling papers, recipes, cures for the munchies, new medical and political developments and basically anything pot related.

Stay tuned, Sandy.

-mj