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My name is Lauren Terry, and I'm one of the thousands of recent liberal arts college grads shocked to find themselves employed in the cannabis industry.
I never would have guessed that two years ago. After earning a literature degree, I fielded countless amused queries about what I expected to do with my education. So I took the first desk job I found after graduation, an administrative position in a cubicle.
That was the spring of 2013. About the same time, I got an Oregon a medical marijuana card for temporomandibular joint disorder. As it happened, I was getting in at the right time.
Since then, I've witnessed the boom of dispensaries, spent time working at a couple of them, and wrote for a Washington state pot magazine. The corporate cubicle job required me to conceal my identity when reviewing marijuana strains, but weed's social status has risen faster than even THC content. I have gone from worrying that an association with pot would ruin any future career to accepting that in our post-prohibition world my stonerness is the most employable part about me.
I'm no expert, but as an OMMP patient, I am well aware of the adventures associated with buying high-quality, affordable product from a business you feel good about supporting. I've visited upward of 50 medical dispensaries, trimmed my share of sticky nugs, and had the pleasure of getting to know dozens of growers, producers, processors and dispensary owners.
I know the disappointment of driving across town in the middle of the night, only to find that the 24-hour dispensary I had been looking for was closed down. I also know the excitement of discovering a spot that blends with your personality, and the rewarding friendship you develop with certain budtenders.
Under the alias Mary Romano, I wanted to share information and observations that are helpful to the average stoner. But, today, using a pen name contradicts my commitment to the industry I support, and which now supports me.
It's surreal to think how much public sentiment has changed in the past two years. My guilt for not shaking the college-stoner phase has transformed to glowing pride. Smoking weed got my foot in the door of the publishing industry. Now with a weed-related job to pay the bills, a pen name isn't necessary to protect my livelihood. Like many Oregonians, I have a cousin or two involved in an edible company, and my family has reached a point of nonplussed tolerance.
Thus, I say goodbye to Mary Romano, and come out of the cloud as a proud stoner.
Party Like It's 1934 | The Future of Drug Testing | Portland's Oldest Head Shop
The Triumph Return of the World Famous Cannabis Cafe
Historic Cannabis Landmarks In Oregon | Weed War II: The Battles to Come
Blending Buds and Learning Terps | Pick Your Loose-Leaf Vaporizer
What You Need to Know to Grow | A Directory of Dispensaries
WWeek 2015