Driving from California to Indiana to Washington in one month with my cat was an exhilarating but overwhelming experience. We spent a few nights in hotels to relax and clean ourselves up, since we looked like feral wild beasts after living in the woods.
As soon as we got to Seattle I went to a local health food market. Seeing the west coast, queer people, vegan produce, and dispensaries brought tears of joy to my eyes.
Crying in public was embarrassing, I soaked my mask and suffocated. The cashier had baby pink hair which made me feel at home. For some reason I told him that I was stoked to be out of Indiana and near queer stoners again. He had just moved from Iowa to Washington, so he knew exactly where I was coming from. We made eye contact, grabbed each other's hands, and had a moment of silence. That was the first time I had human skin to skin contact that year. Technology made it way too easy for us to be alone.
Seattle was the perfect balance of nature and city life. It provided modern amenities, but there were still plenty of big parks to explore nature nearby. All the mountain, water, and plant views were gorgeous. Spring reminded me that change is beautiful. It felt like a real fresh start.
My mom’s friend Dee agreed to let me stay at her place, while I looked for a job and somewhere to live. Her family totally spoiled me. I got to meet their fabulous friends and hangout on their Bainbridge Island properties.
Dee had a great sense of humor, taste in music, and enjoyed delicious craft cocktails. I loved checking out her fabric collections and listening to her play the guitar. I’ve always enjoyed being around smart, funny, creative, inspiring characters. She appreciated my stories and encouraged me to start writing them down.
Dee reintroduced me to her sons, which was quite memorable. “Adrian is married, Dakota has the height, and Ryder has the money.” Ryder overheard and barked back “Don’t tell her about my money!” Then he hopped into his fancy new car and zoomed off while we cackled over our cocktails. Of course she didn’t mean to upset him. She was just proud of his success and the fact that she convinced him to go for the napa leather interior. “It was only an extra four thousand dollars.” I nervously laughed while gulping down my drink, in hopes of forgetting about the state of my life and bank account.
Dakota was the silly, adventurous, wildcard. I appreciated their eccentric androgynous style and bubbly sense of humor. Their brother Ryder was more of an angsty, brooding, gamer, tech nerd. It was obvious that we were both going through some heavy emotional shit. I loved his dark humor and emo music. They were both really smart, attractive, and fun to be around in their own unique ways.
They made me wonder if I was too brokenhearted to consider dating again. I didn’t like the idea of picking one or the other, because stupid Levi had most of their likable qualities. I stuck to my default mode of being single as fuck while flirting with everyone.
So many things still reminded me of Levi. I hated how I kept looking for him in other people. How could I still be so hung up on someone who treated me like shit? That bitch didn’t even like me! I was on a beautiful island with nice, smart, successful, good hearted people, but I couldn’t get that fucker out of my mind. He didn’t even like cats!
Maybe I held onto that story for so long, because the ending was too fucked up for me to fully accept. It felt like we had unfinished business, things left unsaid, which postponed real closure.
Kaia and Levi hadn’t been in my life for years, but it didn’t really feel that way. The pandemic altered my sense of time and ability to properly rebound. The days were never ending while the years flew by.
I had a little fling with one of my friends since then, but hooking up with her made things weird, and ruined our friendship. I should probably stop fucking my friends, but I like getting to know people before sleeping with them.
Moving away helped me move on, but it was not an automatic fix. I had so much more I needed to work though mentally and emotionally. It was time to see new people, places, and things.
Going somewhere else isn’t always hard, it’s just different. It takes time to adjust to dramatic changes. Trust me, I’ve tried out every lifestyle and hair color imaginable.
I could tell that Ryder was broken from something, so I pried the gossip out of him the next time we hung out. I told him about how I fell for Levi and was slut shamed out of our friend group. Even though it happened so long ago, that was the first time I told anyone about it. I finally allowed myself to be vulnerable. It felt good confiding in him. I held onto that story and anger for so long, I wish I released it sooner.
Sharing that experience made Ryder feel comfortable enough to tell me about his most recent heartbreak. One of his best friends had been flirting with him for years. He developed a crush on her and asked her to cuddle. She said yes and then freaked out on him for crossing a line. She acted like he assaulted her, even though she gave him cuddle consent. She played the victim, their friends sided with her, and outcasted him from the friend group. I couldn’t believe all that drama went down over attempted cuddling. At least in my story I got some hot sex out of it.
Ryder and I trauma bonded and shared our emo playlists. I told him that I cut unsupportive friends out of my life, which inspired him to do the same. The pandemic taught so many of us who our real friends are.
Another one of my friends went through a similar situation. I asked her if she noticed any differences in her life since she removed some people from it. She said that her ass got fatter when she cut toxic friends out of her life. After she mentioned that I noticed my own personal booty gains. I should’ve asked Ryder if he got thicker too.
I hung out with Ryder and his friends a few times, but struggled to keep up with them financially. One night we went out for wine and tapas. There were opera singers belting while our table kept ordering bottles of wine. I was too broke and underdressed to be at such a fancy establishment.
Ordering family style with bottles stressed me out, especially since the prices weren't listed and I don’t eat meat. I loved their group of friends, but they were on another level. Sadly I couldn’t afford to keep up.
At one point I visited Victoria, Canada with my mom and Dee. All the people were so kind and the views were incredible! Dee worried that border control might not let her into the country, because of her “record.”
When she was young she got thrown behind bars for having a “dog at large.” Dee’s German Shepherd ran around town causing havoc. The police laid down the law and threw her in jail. Luckily the border guards didn't care about her dog's past reckless behaviors.
We saw Johnny Depp laying out on a yacht in Canada while blasting Party in the USA by Miley Cyrus. All the Canadians loved that song and yelled at him to play it on repeat.
When we got to our hotel we left our luggage at the front desk before check in. I was scared someone might jack our shit. The Canadians laughed at us for being paranoid Americans. Visiting a place that actually felt safe gave me much needed relief. The thought of ditching the United States turned me on.
I got a job at a yoga studio in Seattle, but it only lasted a couple weeks. The owners wanted me to relentlessly and repeatedly reach out to people to get them to sign up. Their sales approach was way too aggressive for Seattleites and their fluorescent lighting drove me nuts. The other yoga studio I worked at in the past had more of a dark stoner hippy woo woo vibe, which was way more my speed.
One of the yoga teachers ended up inviting me to go backpacking with her and her husband. At least I’ve met some cool people through stupid jobs.
It still blows my mind that I slept in a glacier basin on the side of a volcano with total strangers. Sharing edibles, wine, and ghost stories in the woods at night wasn’t the safest or smartest idea, but it was a memorable adventure, so I weirdly stand by it.
We found a camping spot really far out in the middle of nowhere. The moon was full and bright that night. We didn’t see anyone for miles. It would have been terrifying to see another human way out there in the wilderness.
Since I didn’t have any classic ghost stories to share, I told them about my time in Indiana. My stories totally freaked them out, they couldn’t even sleep that night. I wondered what part scared them most: the hicks, spirituality, or potential psychosis.
They had plenty of ghost stories from their time in Australia. She grew up in a small farm town near the outback. Her mom never allowed her to visit her grandma’s house, because it was haunted. All of their family members had stories involving ghosts on that property. Whatever happened out there truly traumatized her entire family. She could barely even talk about it.
We all slept with one eye open with high hopes that none of us were murderers. In the middle of the night we heard some rustling sounds. Of course we thought wild animals were coming after us, but it was just her husband's beard scratching up against his sleeping bag.
I got so used to changing in front of people while working as a model. Nudity doesn’t phase me at all. So many designers, dancers, and models have seen me naked. Sometimes I forget that nudity can offend some people.
When we were camping I changed in the woods near our tents. Maybe they saw my butt cheeks, but whatever. Everyone has an ass. Who cares? I didn’t want to go into the trees and get covered in cobwebs again. Homegirl went deep into the woods to change, which made it clear that stripping in front of her husband was inappropriate.
Of course I ended up hitting it off with him way more than her. I grew up in Huntington Beach and he was from Riverside, so naturally we bonded over bro culture. He asked me to fetch some water from a stream with him while she was cooking. She got so panicked and paranoid, she left the fire burning and followed us through the woods. I think that she saw me as a threat and was afraid I might try to steal her husband. I was just trying to help him use their complicated water pump filter at night. She later got mad at both of us for talking too much. She wanted to enjoy the peace and quiet of nature, but the two of us wouldn’t shut the fuck up. Maybe she could sense my history of third party bullshit.
We got to watch a mama and baby bear play in the snow. The local tribes saw bears as a symbol of courage, playfulness, and protection. The other animals they noticed represented survival, while the ones I saw preached letting go.
They kept trying to point out animals I couldn’t see while I kept trying to show them creatures they couldn’t see. I wondered if the universe was sending us our own personalized messages.
I got eaten alive by mosquitos and they barely got any bites. I took that as a sign to stop letting drama, people, and jobs drain me. The next day I started my period. Mosquitoes are attracted to pregnant and menstruating women. I’m just glad I didn’t bleed out in front of that family of bears.
Dee had some family coming to visit, so I had to find a new home as soon as possible. I wanted to get a place in nature, preferably on an island, but there was a major lack of housing options. Looking at apartments made me cry. I couldn't believe such shitty options were so fucking expensive.
I ended up getting my own place in Seattle. I couldn’t believe I recommitted myself to city life again. I managed to find a spot that was affordable. It had gorgeous views of the water, mountains, and the Space Needle.
Lando and I finally found a real home! I had been fantasizing about having my own personal clean private creative space for years.
Seattleites are known to be distant, cold, and standoffish. The locals call it “Seattle Freeze.” The passive aggressive culture was intense at times, but I appreciated the DGAF emo angsty punk vibes. All the arts and gardens made me feel alive. Overall people kept to themselves there, which was refreshing.
Sometimes my neighbor would knock on my door if she needed me to save her from bugs. I caught spiders in her apartment and released them outside.
Spiders often represent birth, growth, death, and rebirth. They are creative, talented, and know how to evolve. Spiders create connected webs. They are often associated with feminine powers and ancient wisdom.
There was a psychic in our neighborhood near the local pot shop. I thought about going there, but never actually went inside. Sometimes I smoked nearby and debated getting a reading. I think the psychic could sense my energy. She would come outside, look around, then go back inside with a confused expression. For some reason she kept crossing my mind.
I spent most of my time in Seattle writing, stretching, smoking, and taking pictures of plants. Walking around the parks and forests was extremely therapeutic. The dark rainy aesthetic matched my angsty emo goth vibes.
On the days I felt depressed I forced myself to go outside. I took blankets and pillows to the park and laid around in the sun when the weather was nice. It was a safe area and it felt better than moping around indoors. Yoga, weed, and nature always improves my mood.
The trees in the park were my best friends, they each had their own unique personalities. My apartment was minimalistic, but filled with tropical plants.
When I cut people out of my life I talked to my plants about it. One time I asked a fern to absorb all the negative energy coming my way and it died the next week.
I saw deer everywhere! Their flighty tendencies have always been relatable. When it comes to fight or flight I usually bail as fast as possible. That natural instinct has helped me survive! It’s important to notice red flags and trust intuitions.
When I worked at the yoga studio, I put some water and treats outside for the neighborhood dogs. Some crows came by everyday to soak the treats in the water and eat them. They recognized me as their friend. Food is the best way to win anyone over. When I sat outside the crows nuzzled up on me for some pets. Once I called one over to hang out and it landed on my shoulder!
Crows are often associated with transformation, intelligence, witchcraft, adaptability, magic, and mischief. They’re incredibly smart! One time my friend's dad tried to shoot some crows and they came back for revenge. They attacked all the people who visited their house for weeks.
Plants and animals are much smarter than we realize. It’s hard for humans to understand their level of knowledge and talent, because we all have such different skill sets. Just like humans, plants and animals have a wide range of personalities and intelligence levels.
We are nature. We are animals.
I became obsessed with researching spirit guides, angel numbers, tarot cards, crystals, and astrology. Younger me would have made fun of all that woo woo shit for sure.
When I first started believing in the concept of spirituality I didn’t want anyone to know. My new friends would ask me what I believed in. I would still claim to be an Atheist out of fear that they might judge me. Back in a closet again. It was such a self sabotaging move. I kept holding myself back from meeting cool like minded people. It’s wild to see how much us humans can change and adapt over time.
I got sucked into some TikTok tarot readings that claimed toxic people were coming after me. Witchy online creators convinced me that my ex besties put a hex on me. It was kinda believable, all my protective plants died!
Plus those bitches literally called themselves “The White Wine Witches” I shit you not. If you’re ever in a group of friends that names themselves as if they’re in a fucking band like “WE’RE THE CIRCLE, WE’RE THE SEAONS, WE’RE THE WHITE WINE WITCHES” RUN! FUCKING RUN!
I deleted all my social media accounts again for the sake of my mental health and sanity. I even deleted my Only Fans page which severely hurt my finances. Media is best in moderation.
Washington was an incredibly spiritual place for me. I felt so connected to art, nature, and animals. My wardrobe and decor was much more unique than when I lived in other places. It was hard to tell if I could trust people there though. Sure I made some new friends, but were we really friends?
I couldn’t tell if I could be successful there long term. I had opportunities, but were they going to last or be lucrative? Everyone in that city was so career driven compared to me. I craved going back to a softer life in the wild.
Manifestation practices were intriguing, but I didn’t quite understand them. It seemed to work for some and not others. I decided to try manifesting free weed. It’s completely natural and it helps me in so many ways.
Since then I have successfully manifested free weed everywhere I go. Stoner Superpowers! People love to give me lots of free joints or unopened eights. Sometimes I just randomly find jars of weed on the ground. I'm a powerful marijuana magnet!
I got a job at a fancy dispensary that had cannabis products in every form imaginable. The discounts and perks were amazing, but the customers were awful. I only lasted a few weeks there too.
My inability to keep any sort of normal job became quite evident. Working in customer service during the pandemic was horrible. I was proud to be part of the great resignation. Fuck stupid ass day jobs. Let’s be creative in nature amongst our animal friends!
The first day of training was all about addressing people by non-gendered pronouns. Most of the employees and customers were nonbinary. I felt so at home and at peace being around queer androgynous stoners. MY PEOPLE! By the way I’m happy to call people whatever they want to be called, but it was kinda hard for me to break some old habits at first.
Back home in Huntington Beach I addressed everyone with words like guys, bro, or homie. “Sup Dude” wasn’t an appropriate or formal way to address people around the rest of the world. I had so many toxic Californian habits like saying “like” or “fuck” like every other fucking word.
I loved sampling free cannabis products and learning all about them. It’s crazy how the plant quality and laws vary so much between each state. I always thought that sativas were more hyper while indicas were more of a sleepy vibe. That’s kinda true, but it mostly has to do with the elevation in which the plants are grown. When it comes to eating edibles the dosage is more important than the type of strain. Some companies put sativa or indica on the packages just for marketing reasons. Edibles have a heavy high that is stronger and lasts longer than smoking straight up flower. Cannabis lubes can get people high anally, but not vaginally, so they’re usually more popular amongst gay men. Weed lubes do not get women vaginally high, but they can increase blood flow, which can boost pleasure. If you want to get high as fuck take a dab or drink liquid edibles. I love smoking straight up flower, so I got into buying jars of fancy prerolls. Vape pens were a great understudy if I needed to be discreet.
Back in the day I used to think that whatever strain had the highest THC would be the best high, because it was the strongest. That’s like going to a bar and asking for the highest percentage of alcohol. Classic cocktails are way better than drinking the highest proof, let’s be real. There are so many other things that go into making a great drink besides having a high alcohol percentage. Just like how there are so many things that make up a good weed strain besides having a high THC percentage.
There are tons of different weed strains, just like how there are so many different types of alcohol. When I drink gin I’m such a bitch. When I smoke certain strains I can get extra anxious and weird. Over time I learned what things do or don’t work for me. I tried my best to smoke plants that were natural and pesticide free, because I didn’t want harmful chemicals in my body. I’ve gotten plenty of judgment for my love of weed. Sadly square ass prudes can’t get over the outdated negative stigma or stereotypes.
People thought that pot caused some of my health problems, but I think it helped heal them. Weed enhanced my friendships and creative endeavors. Cannabis products helped me manage my diet, sleep, anxiety, mood, etc.
I have intense manic depressive mood swings. Weed helps lift me up when I’m down. It also helps me take it down a notch when I’m being too much. I often get accused of being bipolar, but I think that I’m somewhere on the artistic autistic spectrum. Kinda like Kanye West!
It didn’t take long for me to reach a fuck this shit burnt out breaking point. Mad respect for anyone who did post apocalyptic customer service work. Spiritual healing sure fucked up my work ethic.
Over time I realized that I would rather be homeless in the woods than deal with another asshole customer. Jobs felt like a waste of energy. Everytime I went to work I would think about how I could spend my time doing literally anything else.
Maybe I could be stretching, meditating, journaling, dancing, walking, or sleeping instead. I decided that I should spend my time writing or taking pictures instead of working stupid soul sucking jobs.
I’ve hated jobs because I was forced to do them. I’ve had no choice but to work to survive. Capitalism feels like slavery. We have to pay just to live! How weird is that?
Technology took over jobs so we wouldn’t have to work anymore. That was the whole point, but most of us still needed to earn an income to survive. Having real experiences sets humans apart from robots. That’s why I enjoy nature, traveling, and storytelling so much.
People get stuck doing shitty jobs while living shitty lives they hate, all because they need money or healthcare to survive. I disagreed with the societies I was forced to work and participate in.
Our systems needed to be reconstructed to better fit our world. We all collectively wanted and needed to work towards changing things for the better. It was time to evaluate who or what we might need to release. Let’s tear down that old shit and build something better.
I spent most of my time in Seattle isolated in my apartment smoking weed while cathartically writing. I finally got my productive, creative space, near nature. I used writing as a tool to examine myself in hopes of improvement.
Journaling about the past was heavy and emotional, but I needed to work through those feelings. The shadow work was necessary, but it led me into a deep depression. I had to accept the fact that I am a villain in other people’s stories. Organizing my thoughts helped me understand some of my actions and repetitive patterns.
I kept running away from people, jobs, places, and situations. I had such a hard time pacing myself generally. My fame whore tendencies were out of control at times. I got obsessive over things and needed to remind myself to slow down, remain balanced, and take breaks. I had to force myself to rest to avoid burnout.
For some reason I couldn’t stay put, but maybe that’s because I hadn't found the right place yet. I wondered if there was actually something wrong with me or if bouncing around was a trauma response from never having a stable home or family. My parents never loved me, so let’s just blame them.
I’ve always felt like an ironic and conflicted character. I’m a total attention whore who needs to hide in isolated peace. I thought I should be in the city around people and opportunities, even though I craved nature and solitude.
My anxieties, addictions, and inability to let go of the past were draining me. I needed to take more accountability for my words and actions. My temper and constant need to bail held me back from success. Noticing more of my patterns was good character development. I wondered if I had been living in survival mode my entire existence. I was pretty self aware, but wondered if it was enough to actually change my habits. It took me a long time to accept all sides of myself.
Being creative has never been an issue for me, but I’ve had a hard time following through with some of my plans. I’ve embarked on all sorts of artistic adventures, but rarely saw projects through to the end. Imposter syndrome often leads towards self sabotage.
Even though I loved Washington I was still obsessed with the idea of living in Hawaii. I asked the universe to show me pink flamingos if I should go to the tropics. The next day I went on a little walk and saw hundreds of plastic pink flamingos decorating my neighbor’s yard. Then I asked the universe to show me a bunch of moving trucks if I should keep moving forward. The next day I saw hundreds of moving trucks all over Seattle.
I ended up catching COVID that same week, which sucked the life out of me. My lack of motivation was alarming. I layed around sick in bed and lost most of my hair and taste buds. I burned through all my money while I was sick, so I ended up moving back to my mom’s house in Orange County.
EPIC FAIL!
Whatever. It’s okay to fuck up. I’ve learned way more from my mistakes than my successes. Many people have risen from their ashes and maybe someday I will too.