REAL TALK Archives - Page 13 of 14

April 21, 2020

I Heart Cannabis 4E

Based on the title of this post, I’m sure you can guess what I’m about to say. I’m still going to say it because I can.

I LOVE CANNABIS.

There. I said it.

Happy hour? Meh. I will take a yummy chocolate Cheeba Chew over a glass of wine every single time.

Boozy brunch? Pass the Kushy Punch, please.

But I don’t need an excuse as to why I want to partake in my near-daily dose of elevation. I do it when I want to because I feel like it. But here, pull up a chair, get comfy, PERHAPS EVEN SPARK UP A FAT JOINT and let me break down my love affair of this magical plant for you.

I tried weed for the first time when I was 15. I wasn’t too into it at the time. It was something I would do once in a while when it happened to be around.

And, full disclosure, I also used to be that chick who would get WAY too high and have full-on panic attacks and freak outs.

I once even ate a pot brownie in college which led to me sleeping for the next 16 MF HOURS at my girlfriend’s dorm. So needless to say, weed was NOT my friend for a very long time.

Years later, when I was moved into my XXX agency’s model house (AKA a condo owned by the agency for out-of-town girls to stay at while they’re in town filming – like a sorority house for porn stars) while I waited for my lease in Hollywood to start, I found myself living in a house full of cool babes who were also all stoners.

Every single one of them.

Like, high as fuck all day every day (but also, like, functioning) stoners.

At that time, I hadn’t smoked weed in a couple years and hadn’t even considered it. It just wasn’t a part of my life. But I figured it wouldn’t hurt to see if I could repair my relationship with miss Mary Jane. So, one day when we were all off work chillin in the living room, I finally accepted the joint being passed to me and took a few puffs.

Maybe it was my level of comfortable-ness at the time, maybe it was my higher level of logic (like, I KNEW a couple puffs wouldn’t knock me dead), or maybe I just outgrew my infamous weed-induced freak outs.

Whatever it was, all I knew was that I REALLY loved the way I was feeling. Relaxed AF, no anxiety, no racing thoughts and just present in that precise moment.

Thus began my love affair with cannabis. Over the next few years, I would smoke here and there, usually at night after getting home from set. Which gradually evolved to smoking here and there during the day. Which gradually (but briefly) evolved to puffing on my little wax pen every day.

I discovered that I was a total sativa diva (aka the strain of weed that makes you energized and sparks creativity). I also discovered that I am sensitive AF when it comes to smoking (sore throat and congestion for days after. Not cute) and nowadays stick to edibles.

The thing about me is that I am NOT one to ever be content sitting around doing nothing, and I am ESPECIALLY not content sitting around doing nothing but getting baked all day. I’m a worker bee and a DOER (and there are plenty of people I know who are too who have NO problem getting blazed on a heavy indica before smashing out hours of work – these people are not human – but alas, I have never been one of them)…

…so anything that’s going to make me feel sleepy and potato-ey during the day is not my jam.

Another thing about me which may be surprising to some of you because I don’t thiiiink I act like it is that…

…I am a highly functioning anxious person.

I am constantly projecting myself into the future and backtracking to make sure I’m on the right path to get to where I want to go (“visionary” is the term here – it’s a blessing and a curse). And it gets to be a LOT sometimes.

Like, my brain does NOT shut off. But the thing about this is, my brain is chill AS FUCK in literally EVERY other area in my life. Friend didn’t text me back? She must be busy. Cute guy isn’t calling? Meh, there’s always more.

Hell, I don’t even have one of those chatty internal dialogues going in my head that talks to me all day like many people I know do. I just float on through.

But when it comes to business and creativity? Forget it. My brain NEVER stops. Ever. That’s what happens when you are an insanely passionate person who wants to bring 29348 things to life at once.

With 308348 ideas coming in as to what to do next on the daily.

My work is my life. There is no separation. I am my work and my work is me. I LOVE what I do. I’m excited to fling myself out of bed in the morning, every morning, and tackle the day’s challenges. I LIVE for this shit and it will never get boring.

This is who I am and this is how I will be for the rest of my life. But sometimes I wanna just sit down and be able to watch a full episode of Game of Thrones without getting 10 minutes in and wanting to shop for outfits for a cool themed photoshoot.

Sometimes I just want to lay down in bed at night and get lost in a book without having to peel myself away from busting out my planner and writing out my goals for the next month. Sometimes I just wanna get REALLY creative without my logical brain trying to step in and protest my abstract thinking.

And sometimes I just fucking feel like getting high and doing yoga stretches.

For me, it’s about relaxing, getting super introspective and entertaining a whole lot of abstract thoughts. It’s about sitting down with a notebook and pen and just writing down whatever flows through my mind.

When it comes to letting my brain run rampant, there’s always something out of seemingly nowhere that ends up being a huge, game-changing idea for me. And it’s about making my day THAT much more fun, just because I’m a grown ass woman in charge of myself and I can.

Weed, for me, is one of those things where I like to have it available to me but it’s not, like, life or death if I don’t. Like, I can go on fine without it, but it’s nice if I have it.

Most days I enjoy 10-15mg of an edible (which I feel like most stoners would consider a microdose) but that’s not always the case. If I’ve got a big speaking part in a skin flick or a meeting with my accountant, I’m not gonna take either of those on if I’m blazed. There’s a time and place for everything.

For me, health and wellness are at the tippy top of my list when it comes to important shit in my life. Cannabis has been fanfreakingtastic for my mental health. And since I’ve started incorporating it into my life so often, I’ve nearly completely lost all my desire to drink.

Not only am I 30 now so I get a 2-day hangover off of 3 glasses of champagne, but I no longer find drinking super enjoyable. It makes me sleepy and full. I love to savor a fabulous craft cocktail or crisp glass of Moet, but that’s about it.

So when I go out, if I feel the need to get my buzz or whatever on, I’ll just have like, 20 mg of an edible and be CHILLIN. Then I’ll go home, get a fantastic night’s rest and wake up hangover-free.

The most mischief I’ll get into is getting home and eating a big ass bowl of popcorn with nutritional yeast mixed with cereal. Because, you know, munchies.

But wait! Before I go, to my Californian and Oregonians (hopefully sooner than later this will be all of the US of A and then some) if you have not used Eaze delivery service yet, you MUST. If you’re like me, AKA introverted and also just don’t care to leave the house to do errands, nor do you want to wear unnecessary pants, they will be your new best friend.

I’ve made friends with plenty of the delivery drivers at this point. You literally just order whatever you want online (they have everything, PS) and someone delivers the entire situation to you at home. Like I always say, the way I do life is make things easy. Including acquiring zee cannabis.

So anyways if you haven’t used this fantabulous service yet, you can CLICK HERE to sign up and get a $20 credit to your account for your first order. E-Z. Heheh.

Fellow cannabis connoisseurs, where you at? Comment below <3

Stay elevated 😉

xo, al

April 20, 2020

The Little Phrase That Changed My Life

Isn’t it fascinating how the utterance of one simple sentence from a single human being can completely turn your world inside out and flip it upside down?

What’s equally fascinating to me is that you can hear the same words and phrases over and over again for most of your life until one day, it all just suddenly CLICKS.

Like my mom telling 17-year-old me as I sat down to my daily sugary breakfast of Cinnamon Toast Crunch with skim milk before high school, like clockwork, to “Eat some protein! It’s way better for you than that crap and it’ll keep you full.”

Do you think I listened? Absofuckinglutely not.

Not until 5 years later when I got serious about weight lifting and eating clean, when I sat down to go over my weekly meal plan. Not until then did I, amidst my double checking to make sure I had 20g of protein in my daily morning smoothie, did the ghost of my mom’s exasperated past come back to haunt me.

I should have been doing this years ago. Palm in face.

While the words themselves may be simple, we, as human beings, are not. We are indeed the most complex of creatures, and sometimes we just need to be in the right place at the right time and in the perfect frame of mind to be able to fully grasp advice that’s been given to us time and time again.

This is why I have no problem repeating myself like a broken record on live streams. 😉

For me, in this case, it was a podcast conversation. Maybe it was Oprah. That sounds accurate. Anyways, I was laying on my floor in my bedroom this past summer, journaling and plotting my life with a podcast playing in the background, when I heard the phrase, “Rejection is protection.”

I stopped everything and paused the podcast, soaking it in.

Rejection. Is. Protection.

It was like the heavens had parted. All of a sudden, this giant lightbulb “AHA!” feeling rushed over me as I processed this and repeated it to myself.

Rejection is protection. Talk about one hell of a reframe.

I immediately thought of all the goals I had gone after and failed at. Like the time I thought I so terribly wanted a highly-coveted exclusive contract with a mega adult movie company, so much so that I chose to compete in the reality TV-style competition they hosted to choose their new girl, which is COMPLETELY against my nature.

I absolutely HATE competition and have always been more of a “I’m gonna do what I want when I want and be the best version of myself” kinda girl.

I’m hard enough on myself at it is and have zero need to start comparing myself to other people who aren’t me and trying to measure up to some invisible standard based on the opinions of a handful of people.

I mean, really. It’s making my skin crawl just thinking about it.

Needless to say, I came in second place in that competition and was completely crushed because at that point I had gone SO far in and it was all I had thought about for the weeks it went on. I had been so SURE I was going to win.

Looking back, I now realize that I would have HATED that as my new reality. It just wasn’t ever for me because there were, instead, far better things in store for me that I never would have even imagined possible in that moment.

Like having copious opportunities to film my own gorgeous scenes that I would actually own the rights to without having to answer to anybody but myself. By not winning that competition, AKA being rejected, I was protected by being guided to the path that I was always meant to be on, the one that made me far happier than winning a smoke-and-mirrors competition that I thought I wanted because it sounded cool at the time.

Like the more recent time, this year, when I planned for weeks to buy my dream car. It was my most luxurious gift to myself to date. Like, it was REALLY fucking nice. I test drove it. I fell in love with it. And then I could not reach a negotiation agreement with the dealer, so I had to walk and leave it behind. But this time, I kept repeating to myself, “Rejection is protection,” knowing in the deepest corners of my soul that this just meant there was something far greater for me in store and that exact dynamic was just not meant to be.

Sure enough, a week later, I found a gorgeous car that was exactly what I had been looking for and was able to get it delivered to my doorstep at a fantastic rate, far less than the initial whip I looked at. This is what had been the best fit for me the entire time.

There have been COUNTLESS other times in my life where this little phrase has proven itself true over and over again. Like the time I first submitted one of my songs to a major label network, only to be given a polite “No thank you,” which then proceeded to fuel me to focus on self-releasing all of my songs because I would be absofuckinglutely damned if I worked this hard in silence for so many years only to put the fate of my future into the hands of one single gatekeeper at one single organization who may or may not have just been having a crappy day or was completely over listening to demos at the precise moment he listened to mine.

Like the time I was talking to a guy who out of nowhere completely ghosted on me, only to emerge months later out of the woodworks, acting like nothing had happened. For a moment I was upset, but then I realized that any guy (or PERSON) who had the audacity to just stop talking to me instead of being an honest, respectful adult in the situation had zero place in my life, so that was one message I never responded to.

Had this not happened to me, I never would have been able to experience what it felt like to be disrespected in that way, and therefore never would have come to understand what it meant to set my standards sky-high when it came to who I gave my time to.

Or how about the time I was laid off for the first time in my life (which at the time might as well have been a death sentence) from my first “grown up” job. I was absolutely mortified and beyond upset, but had I not gone through that, I never would have come out the other side knowing that I would never, EVER work for another person again, and that from then on, I would be responsible for my making my own money and keeping myself safe and secure.

And now, years later, I can look at my life and say to myself, “Damn. I’m doing a great fucking job.”

The list is never ending. The point here is this: If you get rejected, congratulations. If you fail at something, THANK GOD.

Take a moment and be grateful. What you DON’T want to do is quit whatever it is you’re after just because you were rejected. Come on. You’re FAR stronger and better than that.

And, if I’m being blunt (welcome to my world. It’s full of tough love) as far as I’m concerned, it’s a cop out.

You’re being protected by God, a higher power, the universe, whatever it is you believe in. You’re being protected from a path that was never meant to be your perfect path in the first place. You learned a valuable lesson, and now you’re being guided in a new direction that will hold more in store for you than you could ever imagine.

So the next time you don’t get exactly what you want, know and trust that you are indeed exactly where you need to be. Know and trust that rejection is simply feedback pointing you in a new direction. Know and trust that as long as you feel your feelings, dust yourself off and keep going, you’re going to be OK.

Always.

xo al

April 13, 2020

Does Size Matter?

I feel OBLIGATED to discuss this.

This is hands down one of the most popular questions I get asked. EVER. Like, multiple times a day popular. Like, multiple messages on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, even snail mail…you guys somehow always manage to sneak this question into my daily existence.

It should be understandable, then, that frankly I’m pretty over it.

But, like, I GET IT. I really, really do. I’m also well aware that given my profession, I’m VERY well-equipped to give you the answer. So here we go. Ready???

SIZE DOES NOT FUCKING MATTER.

WHEWWWW! We can all breathe a collective sigh of relief. Let it out. You can relax.

On behalf of the female population (and just know, I speak in general terms here. Humans are humans which means we’re all weird and quirky in our own unique ways and we all have our own personal preferences.)

I’m sure there are some women who are straight up hardcore size queens, 8 inch Pringle can or GTFO.

…BUT MOST OF US JUST DON’T FUCKING CARE.

I’ll also address the gray area here. If you’re literally 2 inches…not MY cup of tea but there IS a woman out there who will love and adore and cherish all 2 of those inches like it’s the last cocktail weenie on earth.

Or make fun of it, if that’s what you’re into.

I promise.

Remember in middle school when we used to quiz each other at recess, acting all cool pretending we knew wtf we were talking about going, “Would you rather have the motion of the ocean or the size of the boat?” (Or maybe this was just a teenage girl thing). Anyways…

…women want the damn ocean.

Because the truth is, you can be absolutely STACKED and also be a jackhammer and/or two pump chump. Been there, had that, thank u, next!

These same dudes also tend to talk a biiiiig ol’ game right up until it’s actually time to get on the court. Go figure.

So, fellas, if you’re one of the chosen ones blessed with a huge schlong, please take the time to read the instruction manual it came with.

Because if you don’t know how to properly operate the equipment…that’s a problem.

And even for size queens, the novelty wears off REAL quick if that’s ALL you bring to the table.

You know what most women are down with? Average. A V E R A G E. I think that’s liiike…5-6 inches? *shrugs*

TBH I think, no wait, I KNOW the whole inch-measuring thing came from guys in the first place because I have never in my life been like, “Hang on babe! I wanna whip out my tape measure before you stick it in.”

Women don’t obsess over dick size whatsoever. Like, it’s a thing maybe we’ll mention casually to a close girlfriend for a hot minute while discussing a hookup but it’s never anything we get hung up on.

We move on with our lives, unbothered. There are FAR more interesting things to discuss and worry about. Like, pretty much anything else.

Seriously.

I think the ONE time in my life I’ve been emotionally caught up on a guy’s dick size was in college when I unsuspectedly hooked up with a dude who was a solid, like, 2 inches. All I know is that I felt nothing and then it was done in less than 3 minutes.

Good times!

You know what we obsess over? Men who treat us like the queens we are. Men who respect us. Men who appreciate all the time and effort we spent on getting all glammed up.

And, of course, men who treat us like the fine ass ladies we are in public who can also really give it to us behind closed doors. There’s a time and place for everything.

Average Joes, rejoice. Learn to work with what you’ve got.

For women, size matters the most when it comes to your heart 😉

xo, al