Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Top 10 Lessons Learned from Memorial Day in Manson

10) No matter what your plans are, it’s always a good idea to leave an extra car at Cappy’s.

09) The best and most instantaneous hangover cure is to jump in the glacier-fed lake.

08) Recovery from a weekend in Manson will take at least twice as long as it should

07) Your top for the bar should be a similar shape to the swimsuit you got the sunburn in

06) Your top for the bar should be something you don’t mind wearing to breakfast the next morning

05) A paper cut could become a life-threatening emergency if you’ve had so much to drink that your blood won’t clot anymore

04) Always bring a hair tie

03) Multiple days of heavy drinking may turn you into someone you don’t recognize and wouldn’t invite to a party

02) If you can’t remember it, it’s up to you whether you want to admit that it happened

01) If you can’t remember it, maybe it’s just better that way

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Top 10 Things I Will and Won't Miss About Seattle

Top 10 Things I’ll Miss About Seattle/Westside:

10) Being able to get everything I need within 10 minutes of my house
09) Vietnamese food
08) Japanese food
07) Thai food
06) Cheap and expensive versions of all the above foods
05) Happy hours
04) Trader Joe’s
03) Sweeping views of Rainier, the Olympics and the Cascades
02) Weekly barbecues
01) My friends! ☹

Top 10 Things I WON’T Miss About Seattle/Westside:

10) Spending most of my money on Thai, Vietnamese and Japanese food
09) The drive to the weekly barbecues
08) Rolling down my window on a nice day on the freeway and smelling exhaust instead of nature
07) Traffic
06) Rain
05) Mold in windowsills
04) Soggy grass
03) Shopping
02) SUVs that people use to only to drive the 10 minutes to work
01) Bellevue

Love and Top 10 Kisses
Morgan

Monday, May 11, 2009

Leaving Seattle

I’m having mixed feelings about leaving Seattle.
Okay, granted, I officially left three months ago when I moved to Camano Island. However, Camano is only an hour and a half away from “the city” and in truth it was so close it was easy to head back on a moment’s whim. I really wasn’t gone. (I also realize that, technically, I was living in Bellevue for the past year, not Seattle, but just go with it, people.)
There are a lot of great things about living in or near a city. I’m sure the longer I’m away from it, the more reasons I will remember, but there are some really obvious ones that I’m already missing: finding everything you need within a couple miles of your house; a multitude of ethnic foods at a multitude of prices; tons of friends your own age with similar interests; and plenty to do. These are the things I will miss.
However, the move away from Seattle has been coming for quite awhile. Some people say they need the sun but manage to live in the shadow of the Cascades without needing more than a weekend or two away. They are, as far as I’m concerned, lucky bastards. I am not happy here. It didn’t matter that friends and family and a beautiful place to live surrounded me. There is nothing as amazing as crossing one of the bridges over Lake Washington on a crystal clear sunny day when you can see the Cascades, the Olympics, Mt. Rainier and even Mt. Baker. The friends I have and made here are what kept me in the area longer than I’ve lived anywhere since college. But it wasn’t enough.
Each day that it was sunny and I was working, my spirits were mired in a puddle that never dried up. It didn’t matter that it was sunny, because I couldn’t enjoy it. It wasn’t sunny enough days outside of the workweek for me to feel okay about sitting inside as the birds sang and the boats hummed on the water. It killed a part of me every day to watch this sunshine and not be in it.
It’s possible I may move back to Seattle at some point, but I really hope not. I hope that what I learned about myself and the rain will stick with me so I don’t make the same choice again. I like myself better when I have a sunglass line across my cheeks, when it’s awkward for me to wear dresses that reveal my farmer’s tan, when I feel like it’s okay to write today while it’s sunny, because tomorrow’s going to be sunny too. Because of Seattle, though, I will never take that sunshine for granted again.

Love and Emerald City kisses
Morgan

Friday, May 1, 2009

I see you.

It’s the peak of an orgasm. It’s the point of zero gravity at the top of a roller coaster. It’s the butterflies you get in your stomach when you think he likes you, but you’re not sure yet. It’s the first shock of freezing water. It’s the time you’re suspended in the air after you’ve leapt off a 40-foot cliff. It’s the extra long minutes once you’ve begun to spin out of control on a snowy pass, when you’ve had time to say ohshitohshitohfuckohshit more than could actually be possible, considering the fact that it only takes .5 seconds to slide to a stop. It’s the moment when you know your relationship is going to end and you have to say it out loud.
What is it? It’s the edge of living life to the fullest. Those moments of raw emotion that are too painful to touch for longer than a couple seconds, yet you strive to find a way to connect with that power and draw strength from it.
I feel most alive on mountain tops, in glacial waterfalls, when every sense is being stretched beyond my comfort level and part of me wants it to go on and another part can’t stand the electrifying jolt of life: of pure, unfiltered existence.
I get glimpses of it, and it’s not enough. It’s like a drug that I have been searching for my entire life, but I only get fleeting tastes of it mixed in with all the everyday flavors. Some days, I feel it stalking me, waiting for the right moment to pounce, and suddenly I get a tightness in my chest and it’s hard to breathe and I am right on the point of letting the animal consume me, but I can’t figure out how to unleash it and it slinks away, to wait until its next chance to be free. It is not my muse, per se, but the rocket ship that carries my muse to me, and I feel the heat as it burns past me with my muse in tow, screaming in thrill and delight, and I never seem to be able to catch the rocket and hold on tight enough to ride it to pure ecstasy.
I am closer to it than ever before. There is a path that is so full of bliss, so charged with energy, that to follow it is to get dragged behind a speedboat and all you can do is try not to lose your swimsuit bottoms in the process. It is the spark inside that can be stoked to wildfire heights, if only there were enough wood.
It is there, and I will find it, whatever it is. I will keep searching until it pounces on me and I scream, consumed.


Love and searching kisses
Morgan