Dear Seattle

I'll miss you.

My three months of getting lost somewhere between Elliott Ave and Denny and are mostly blurred, but I know that I liked it here.

I'll miss ...

The view from my office window.
Temperatures that rarely top 80.
Velvet foam on perfect lattes.
Cupcake royale.
Pad thai from the great place next to my apartment.
My first ever on my own apartment.
Cool morning breezes.
Pike Place Market.
Lavendar martinis.
General good times with Chelsea.

I'll even miss the emotional upheaval I've dealt with inside your city limits.

But I'm ready for the rest of my life.

Before my dad married my mom, he stood infront of a synangogue of people and yelled "let's get this show on the road."

And everytime I call him, whining about a situation in my life that's easily solvable by time, he says "next!"

So in the spirit of my father, who always seems to take life's tribulations and roll with them, (which I have never been successfuly able to do) I'm saying "let's get this show on the road" and "next."

Universe, fates, powers that be -- I'm ready.

Love and gratitude,

flanz.