I began writing to you, Blogger, while on my vacation. I can't remember exactly what I was writing, but it was probably something like, "Greetings from the coast! I've had soooo muuuuch caaaaaffeine!!!" Something like that. Unfortunately I did not get to see much of the coast... Or Portland, like planned. I did, however, get the opportunity to sleep on a motel floor for two nights, letting the sweet scent of stale cigarettes lull me into a deep, deep sleep where I kissed exes in dreams and wore elephant tusks as an accessory. I had all of the feelings yesterday about my trip. All of the feelings and all of the mascara tears. Today? Not so much. Why is that? Did I dissociate that quickly? Am I just tired? Am I just going to use tiredness as an excuse for the rest of my life? Who's to say. God only knows. The nose by any other name would smell just as sweet. Sweet or salty? I'll take salty any day.
So maybe I'll write more about my trip when/if the feelings return. OR NOT. Maybe writing about it in a highly emotional state is not the wisest decision. Then again, who am I to make wise decisions? I'm beginning to suspect that I make decisions based on how mortified I will be later upon reflection. Like, "What were you thinking cutting asymmetrical baby bangs two days before your sister's wedding, Meghan?!" or "White platform flipflops may have not been the most practical choice for that nature hike." Nature hike! Hahahaha. I guess there are hikes through cities. The city is nature, in its own perverse way. Speaking of perversity, a drunk professor of mine told me 11 years ago that my writing was "so perverse." I am still trying to figure out what she meant by that. I take it as a compliment, though.
Okay, going back to the trip. Here are a few thoughts I thought while trying to maintain my sanity in the great state of Oregon:
*I should dedicate my life to surfing. It's not too late! I'm not too old! Uh... Reach for the stars! I'm desperate. All I need is LASEK and swimming lessons and then I'm set. Look, I don't need to be Laird Hamilton. I just need to be able to stand up and ride one single wave in my lifetime. That's all. And look really cool and effortless doing it as well.
*I have grown very, very fond of my Twitter friends. This may not be healthy. This may be borderline delusional. But I really think of them as friends! They are tiny little pictures on my screen, but I follow their words and their lives everyday and I feel as though they "allow" me to be as grossly open and honest as I want to be with only a little bit of judgment. I believe these things add up to a fine friendship, folks!
Well, those are only two thoughts. I have run out of steam. I know I had more substantial thoughts on the trip, but I'll get to those later. I'm always getting to things later, aren't I? Problem is, I never get to them. I get too distracted by surf videos shot by drones and my own perversity. Hang loose.