MOLI VIEW™

It was around Thanksgiving that smoking marijuana got to be a problem for me. I was smoking fairly frequently, as the old editing gig had already begun to wear on my nerves. Holiday parties, at the rate of three or four per week, were putting drink and pot in front of me, too, and I just felt like I was taking in too many toxins. So I switched to eating pot cookies. The approach was deliciously effective. I happened to know a hip pastry chef, and his take on chocolate chip cookies is buttery smooth to the point of insanity. OMG!

To make a long story short, by the time I got back from Christmas vacation in Mendocino County, I was fat and stoned. Unattractive and ineffective. I'd erase much of the improvement to my body that I'd made through last summer.

Now we look ahead to the great holiday 4:20 How ya feelin'? (Fine, I hope.)

On my end, the whole aura, fanbase pandemonium aside, feels cleaner. A big part of the change is that I ingest marijuana legally, as prescribed for a physical condition. (What can I say? I suffer through pot's side effects. Patiently. A real trooper I am.) And I'm back to the gym and playing hoops with my baby. My weight is close to a 15-year low. The massages, the improved nutrition, the whole package makes me face the day with gusto and creativity. Let's face it: Some people love me, some people hate me, but the vast majority are indifferent, and I can accept that. For now. (As long as they sign paychecks.)

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