The One on the Right Is on the Left
Well, my trip back to the left coast was everything I hoped for and then some. There was one afternoon in Seattle, on the beach, and one evening of gallivanting around Capital Hill, which left me feeling dreamy at first, until I remembered how to get back into the laid back swing of things. It is funny how the familiarity and drama of my old stomping ground seems more claustrophobic to me now than New York ever has. The next day was spent driving east, with a slight detour in the dustbowl desert of Ellensburg, a town I hope to visit never again, and then an arrival in the roaming wheat fields of Colfax, Washington.
The wedding, a three day event, was made perfect only by the perfect pairing of bride and groom. Hey, weddings are fun. I wish all of my friends would get married now. Although I felt a little left out because I was the only member of the wedding party without a tattoo. The ceremony was given by a slightly senile priest, who almost forgot the most important piece of the ritual. The backyard reception was entirely vegan and D.I.Y, in which we all pitched in with our assigned chores, and, finally, there was a toast in which the best man revealed that the marriage is surely fit for longevity, since the bride makes the groom “less of an asshole.” There was also an afternoon of swimming and jumping in the massive ravine of the Snake River, and a night spent on a tarp, in between two of my fondest, underneath a slew of stars in a bigger sky than I have seen in quite some time.
It felt better than good to see some of my most favorite people in the entire universe in one fell swoop, because sometimes (all of the times) e-mails and phone conversations simply don’t cut it. Yet even though most of my darlings reside there, in apartments that are twice the size of mine at less than half the rent, Seattle is a nice place to visit, but I don’t think I could live there anymore. And now that I am back from vacation, it is time to get back to reality, or at least my version of it.