Looking for 420 lady

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There's also a full run-of-show, which includes options such as a discussion entitled "The Goddess and Cannasexuality" and a belly-dancing class. The language was friendly and the promises of female empowerment worthy, but the material was as intimidating to me as a pamphlet about brain surgery. Weed and I have lots of people in common, Looking for 420 lady we don't hang out that much, outside the occasional communal bowl. Also, I'll admit my curiosity about marijuana stems from the cannabis industry's recent—and aggressive—marketing push toward millennial women.

Much like SoulCycle biking, basically and Lululemon leggingsmore and more brands are taking a thing that's been around forever and repackaging it as an essential, attractive, Instagrammable lifestyle. Publications like Gossamer and Broccoliwith their modern de and cool-girl subjects, feel aspirational, not crunchy.

Kush Queen is capitalizing on the Internet's collective, if confusing, fascination with bath bombs. Foria's massage oil is packaged like a Glossier disciple. Four hundred and twenty dollars buys you two nights at a beautiful private estate, a gift bag filled with cannabis products, and all the edibles and nuggets you could possibly want.

Which brings me to the Ganja Goddess Getaway, whose amenities were so attractive, I couldn't not go. That and, full disclosure, I was offered a gratis ticket. That includes a group tent bring your own bedrolla gift bag filled with cannabis products, and all the food, snacks, nonalcoholic drinks, and—yes—edibles and nuggets you could possibly want. As I entered the grounds, I noticed a group of women doing yoga on a sunny lawn.

Ahead was a crystal-clear pool with lounge chairs.

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me up! Any remaining reservations floated away as soon as Miss Bliss—a. The weekend was to be structured however we wanted, she promised. Hang out by the pool, learn how to make flower crowns, network with other like-minded women. Unlike regimented summer camp, this experience was our choice.

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Do whatever makes you happy because that's rooted in love, she explained. OK, I thought, I can do this. I can discover myself and my motivations. I walked around the estate, debating the best way to enter this new world of Me as Ganja Goddess. Should I start with one of the ts I found in my gift bag?

What about one of the cute and delicious-looking edible cupcakes? Or what if I made friends with the chill women smoking by the pool? Do I go big and head straight to the dab barthe complicated-looking contraption that works by heating sticky oil made of concentrated doses of cannabis. A staffer named Alexis told me it's "awesome. As I exhaled the thick smoke, my body felt lighter.

Though my brain still felt clear and alert, there was an edge taken off. Instantly, I got what all the fuss was about.

Anthony Mackie's First Time Smoking Weed Got Him Chased by a Moose

This must be what a Disney princess feels like—light and airy and pleased with the world. Is that a songbird on my shoulder? I bounced over to a booth with cannabis-infused cotton candy, attended by a woman named Vanessa who had, of course, cotton-candy-color hair.

Once the dab-edible combo fully took effect, I fixed myself a large, large plate of snacks before falling asleep with my feet in the cool pool water. When I woke up from the nap, I felt refreshed and amused that munchies are a very real side effect for me. Ready to keep the good times going, I went to a panel titled "Edibles Fit for a Goddess" by cannabis chef Deliciously Dee.

There she served samples of edible gummies. They were delicious. And made me hungry again. Why am I always hungry? Feeling relatively invincible, I stopped by the dab bar again, now considering myself something of a connoisseur. The hit felt different this time, thicker somehow. Soon after that, my memories of the evening start to blur: I remember Looking for 420 lady slack-jawed in amazement as a woman walked around with a Tibetan singing bowl. I remember picking up a meat kebab for dinner.

I remember shivering as day turned to night and all I had on was my bathing suit and a pair of shorts. I remember sleeping by a fire as women around me told stories and sang. As the night wore on, I was deeply exhausted. Tired of eating. Tired of being high.

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Tired of being tired. I couldn't engage with any of the activities because moving felt too hard. I couldn't bond, or hold a conversation even, with any of the women there because apparently being high makes me even more inward than I already am. I came to the desert to be a breezy free spirit and instead ended up a loner who can't stop eating hummus. Frustrated, I crawled into bed—I think at P. The next day though, everything felt bright again. I'd had a dreamless sleep and felt well rested.

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My breakfast tasted better. By A. Now sober, I realized the problem wasn't the edibles or the getaway. I'm just a newbie who didn't pace herself correctly. Like a year-old drunk on Burnett's Blueberry Vodka, I didn't know my limits or where to draw the line. Simple as that. In this new light, I was able to look around and see the camaraderie of the women there. This was a place for females of all ages, of all body types, and of all backgrounds who came from all over—Canada, California, New York, Tennessee—to learn more about themselves, and others, and, yes, to be friendly.

To organically become the best version of yourself and to use cannabis as that tool along the way. A point of view I respect but, honestly, I'm not sure the best version of myself needs weed. I'll take that community, though—and the snacks.

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Looking for 420 lady

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