Ask locals of Washington’s Olympic Peninsula where to go to be impressed and they’ll point you to Cape Flattery. Between its jade ocean waters, playful sea otters, and sunset-painted trees, it’s hard to imagine there’s anyone who wouldn’t fall in love.
I want a blog chock full of vulnerability and to raise the post number with content that feels genuine and as open as a book can be; and I also want to get a job. Are the two opposing?
I’m getting distracted.
Life seems rosy. Of course I can do this writing thing. I’ve got ideas. People like them. I like writing.
My poor ’04 Honda Element (named Scout) was broken into and $710 worth of belongings was stolen.
Life is short. Arguably too short to go around one’s whole life pretending one doesn’t know what the alluring brown coating on cupcakes, speckled in the cookie dough and dripping down the sides of clear coffee cups is.
I thought for sure that by this time I’d be ready to stuff my face with anything and everything I’d “denied” myself.