Sometimes I get high and go geocaching

Sometimes I get high is a series about the activities you do or things you think about when you’re high, in deep detail, for the fun of it. When I was little, I used to hide behind the couch in the downstairs room of our ramshackle house with stacks of books and snacks, and go adventuring as only a kid can. I lost myself in stories about intrepid travelers like Dido Twite, the heroine of Joan Aiken’s The Stolen Lake, a gruesome tale about an ancient queen who attained immortality by cannibalistic vampirism. I dreamed of joining a roving band of kids like Enid Blyton’s The Secret Seven, who were always going on treks with amazing-sounding provisions like clotted cream and ginger beer. I loved tracing maps of Narnia, Oz, and Middle-Earth.  Tucked behind the velvet maroon and mustard-yellow flowered sofa with a bowl of grapes dipped in sour cream and brown sugar (the most delectable snack ever), I felt like a bonafide globetrotter. In my twenties, I got the best summer job I’ve ever had — working as a deckhand on a salmon tender in Southeast Alaska. One of my favorite parts of the job was taking a turn standing watch when we were underway. Huge paper nautical charts were spread out across the wheelhouse, marking rapids and rocks and thrilling secret coves. Occasionally the crew would get a day off, and we’d all pile into the skiff to explore a remote island. I collected bones and salmon teeth and sea glass to carry home to New York City, where I lined my studio apartment’s bookshelf with all my treasures. When I moved to Los Angeles in 2016, the city overwhelmed me. Luckily, I was working for a cannabis media company, and an abundance of top-notch weed flowed through…

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Source : Sometimes I get high and go geocaching

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