I know we just talked a couple hours ago but I was thinking how nice it would be to actually follow through with my suggestion that we not visit the Sedona Vortex together.
Here’s the thing about Sedona: it’s complete bollox. I mean, it’s pretty and everything, stunningly so, in fact. The natural beauty of the area is simply breathtaking and unlike anywhere else I’ve been. But it’s so damn commercialized in that particularly vapid late-20th-and-early-21st century way (surely there’s a term to encapsulate, say… 1970–2010?) that any real calm or serenity that a person might find there is completely overshadowed by the hokey New Age relic shops, ‘Jeep tours’, and over-botoxed white people who may or may not have had too much plastic surgery but definitely have too much money.
I just went there a few days ago and I thought, you know who I’d like to bring here? No one. Of all the people I know, I’m totally not into bringing anyone here. That’s when I thought of you and how much you’d dislike it. It was funny though, I went into the Whole Foods (because of course there’s a massive Whole Foods in tiny little Sedona), and was buying myself an I can’t believe I just got dumped again cupcake, when I noticed that there’s a bar inside the Whole Foods. So, for obvious reasons, I ate my nihilistic, existentially fraught cupcake as I enjoyed a seasonal ale and observed some truly appalling Halloween costumes (cue the obese woman in a skin tight unicorn outfit and the creepy old man dressed as a prophet who ogled me from behind as I Instagrammed my cupcake -though that may not have been a costume, I really couldn’t tell).
One of the most unhappy, shitty, and wealthy people I know moved there not too long ago because she thought it would answer all of her burning questions about life at the same time as solving all of her stupid, self-inflicted problems.
So that’s the kind of place Sedona is and the kind of people it attracts. I really think you and I will have a super time not going there together.