Marijuana

Walking to a local dive bar gets me to some interesting people with interesting (drunk) conversations. People tell me a lot when they're drunk. Like the times when they say they grow pot for a "living", as if this were everyday conversation. Granted, a 5'1" Asian girl looks nothing like a police, but marijuana is still illegal.

In his drunk stoner voice (yes, it can be chronic), he told me how he could make bank if it were legalized and he wouldn't have to be underground. He told me how he's lived here all his life and how he's finally going to DO IT and move to Portland (a mere 3 1/2 hours away), and how he's scared because it's something new and different. I smiled and nodded and tried to humor him since I'm going to India for the first time (a country I've often come across in my travel readings as a true test for seasoned travelers!) and living in Asia for a year. Yeah, you got nothing on me, kid (and oh yes, I'm scared shitless).

Thirteen states have legalized medical marijuana use in the United States. The first, in 1996, was California and Oregon, Washington and Alaska soon followed suit in 1998. Last Friday, Portland, Oregon opened the nation's first "Cannabis Cafe", a private club for Oregonians who possess an official medical marijuana card. The club opened a month after the Obama administration told federal attorneys not to prosecute patients who use marijuana for medical reasons or dispensaries in states which have legalized them (via Reuters).

Leave it to Portland for its progressive politics. Many Portlanders are familiar with the "Keep Portland weird" slogan and bumper sticker that may litter automobiles (most likely on Hawthorne or the Burnside bridge). I'm proud to call this state, and Portland, my home. While I haven't smoked marijuana as a lifestyle since college, I have smoked a couple of times while living here and am not against the legalization of the drug.

Still, this does not make me a proponent of being a "stoner" or anything like that. I've left my pot smoking days behind me for good. Yet, I still remember my college days fondly. Of dorming in a "dry" town, which only meant more underaged drinking than less, and trips to the laundry room to smoke up at least three times a week. I remember the first time we found the laundry room, and gathered it a "safe" spot. Just a short walk outside of campus, behind some apartments, we made sure that we came when the machines were already in use, so as to be sure that our chances of someone randomly walking in would be less. One of us would stand on guard by the door, but we had no problems, and even if people did come, they'd chill with us and laugh. It was good times.

Trips to the cafeteria for the late night "munchies"--mozarella sticks and pepperoni pizza, my college diet staple--where I would gaze at cafeteria boy and hope I didn't look like a complete moron. Watching Hello Kitty cartoons and laughing our asses off because it was so funny. "Deep" conversations about the meaning of life, spirituality, and No God. An attempt to go to orchestra class while we were stoned leading my friend and I to skip class and order pizza instead. Even dorming with a Christian girl who would get scary panic attacks, hanging out with her Christian friends to go hiking (in my sober moments)... I look back at it all fondly.