Sunday, March 18, 2007
Unattended Children Will be Given Espresso and a Free Puppy.
Things have been mildly stressful lately. In the emotional sense more than anything else. When I can't help things it is frustrating. Don't be scared, but I actually went running once. Not that far. But enough to get out some energies. Also it was lovely and chilly out. When I came home I was pink and numb and in a much better mood. Funny how bursts of vigorousness can be cathartic. Or maybe it isn't funny. I don't know, it's late.
Life will finish re-arranging itself soon. I've bought my California ticket, and have engaged in some group nostalgia with Crystal and Natalie. I miss the smog, the traffic, the 24-hour liquor marts. The [actual] gangstas, the diversity, the bookstores. I miss hills, a freezing ocean, and five different ethnic chains for fast food on the same street. Boba, baja food, fusion, Japanese, Viet/French, Thai, Mediterranean in various incarnations, BBQ that isn't just spicy vinegar-water, Mexican, and so much more. I miss being surprised that a store closes at 5. I miss Trader Joe's and the 99 cent store and people who pretend you aren't there. I miss being one in a crowd of millions. For a little while I will be able to watch and loiter and exist without disruption. The camaraderie of strangers here is nice, but unsettling at times. When I go to a store I want to be able to engage in a conversation with the cashier under 15 words. "How are you doing?" "Hi" "$13.50" "Thanks" "Thank you" I love hearing about a stranger's life, but to know that saying Hello is a ten minute commitment to hear a wandering tale of hospital stays or new houses becomes monotonous.
Most of all I am curious as to what I will miss from here once I am away. Will I miss the trees? Clean air?
Warm ocean? Open streets? Big yards? Possibly. I want to know how far my roots have gone. What do I do if I go home (because really, it still is to me) and never want to leave? What if I discover I don't miss anything I've left behind? Or, conversely, what if I miss everything and discover that home isn't mine anymore? Traveling is a stressful thing.
There are people I love here, there are people I love there. There are places I love there, there are a few places I am growing to love here. Moving often as a child must make for some strange attachments. How often can one transplant before he or she mistrusts any supposed permanence? It's not a problem I have, but it's something to wonder.
Things have been mildly stressful lately. In the emotional sense more than anything else. When I can't help things it is frustrating. Don't be scared, but I actually went running once. Not that far. But enough to get out some energies. Also it was lovely and chilly out. When I came home I was pink and numb and in a much better mood. Funny how bursts of vigorousness can be cathartic. Or maybe it isn't funny. I don't know, it's late.
Life will finish re-arranging itself soon. I've bought my California ticket, and have engaged in some group nostalgia with Crystal and Natalie. I miss the smog, the traffic, the 24-hour liquor marts. The [actual] gangstas, the diversity, the bookstores. I miss hills, a freezing ocean, and five different ethnic chains for fast food on the same street. Boba, baja food, fusion, Japanese, Viet/French, Thai, Mediterranean in various incarnations, BBQ that isn't just spicy vinegar-water, Mexican, and so much more. I miss being surprised that a store closes at 5. I miss Trader Joe's and the 99 cent store and people who pretend you aren't there. I miss being one in a crowd of millions. For a little while I will be able to watch and loiter and exist without disruption. The camaraderie of strangers here is nice, but unsettling at times. When I go to a store I want to be able to engage in a conversation with the cashier under 15 words. "How are you doing?" "Hi" "$13.50" "Thanks" "Thank you" I love hearing about a stranger's life, but to know that saying Hello is a ten minute commitment to hear a wandering tale of hospital stays or new houses becomes monotonous.
Most of all I am curious as to what I will miss from here once I am away. Will I miss the trees? Clean air?
Warm ocean? Open streets? Big yards? Possibly. I want to know how far my roots have gone. What do I do if I go home (because really, it still is to me) and never want to leave? What if I discover I don't miss anything I've left behind? Or, conversely, what if I miss everything and discover that home isn't mine anymore? Traveling is a stressful thing.
There are people I love here, there are people I love there. There are places I love there, there are a few places I am growing to love here. Moving often as a child must make for some strange attachments. How often can one transplant before he or she mistrusts any supposed permanence? It's not a problem I have, but it's something to wonder.
Labels: California, Nostalgia, Travel, Vacation
-- G 'Bye, Sonya -- . ( 18.3.07 ) .