I have a theory...
But more on that later.
I met life’s epicenter for about 18 days. We
sat down. Had a cup of coffee. The epicenter is pretty nice-had a lot to say.
And it was about a 45 day journey to meet up. Full of potential psychological
breaks.
Legit: exhausting. amazing. bittersweet. tough.
beautiful. etc.
And
I say go go go, oh no…
I set out to fulfill an LA bucket list, say
goodbye, eat steak dinners, job search, apartment search, spin, leave a job,
train a new employee, hike, indulge in a Korean spa, grasp taxes &
invoices, master obamacare & cobra & Western Union, pack, spin some
more (in various ways), indulge in a Chinese massage, say goodbye and I say hello. Hello hello.
I was tired.
Exhaustion is likely responsible for prolonging
the “is this fo realz?!” feeling. But my cross-country drive propelled me
forward. Carried by my family through the stages of it all. From sea to shining
sea. Thank you dad for the drive. I needed someone to interrupt Epicenter. It had
overstayed its welcome.
Los Angeles > Palm Springs > Joshua Tree
(Integratron) > Vegas (Paris) > Hoover Dam > Flagstaff
> Grand Canyon > Albuquerque > Sante Fe > Lubbock > Austin (Stubb's BBQ)> New Orleans (Dick&Jenny's) > Carrollton > Atlanta (The Optimist, as always) > hello. goodbye. > …
Saying goodbye is really something though. Not
only to people but to a version of myself. To a world I may never be part of
again. To an experience or stage that may feel like a fuzzy, dusty dream one
day.
Between LA desert weather, transplanted nomadic friends, my slow orientation there is some dust and some fuzz. A fear I may have already dropped the needle.
heLA
hey helloa
heyLA
hey helloa Cha Cha Cha
heyLA
hey helloa whoooooo
Let the vinyl spin out. Isn’t that life
anyways?
Regardless, I spun for 18 days. An unreal
stretch. A beautiful, silent cacophony.
100% in every direction of my life.
past.present.future .
professional.social.emotional.physical
My now old roommate (I hate saying ex-roommate)
said that she read something recently claiming “27 to be the year big life
decisions happened.” I believe they’re referred to as milestones. Or clubs.
Sadly.
Janis Joplin. Jimi Hendrix. Jim Morrison. Kurt
Cobain. Amy Winehouse
27 & music is simultaneously timeless and a
reference of time. A weird sort of gravitational pull down the rabbit hole. Quite
possibly my only quasi tangible reminder LaLaLand exists.
As goodbye gifts, I bought various people
albums that helped center me there. Their titles appear to be an analogy for my 27th year:
Up From Below. Hang on Little Tomato. Fear Fun. Spice of Life.
Now, back to my theory.
Quick side note, I have not talked about food once
this blog. UnHEARDof. And, I just killed a couldhavebeenalive cockroach.
Ok, theory cont…
Within the past 2.something years I traveled
to&from all my favorite people&places while living way out west. To me,
LA weather was like something out of the Truman show (Described as satirical social
science fiction). It never changed. I traveled to DC, Chicago, New Orleans,
Atlanta and although nice weather through each visit, each departure was met by
a massive down pour (or polar vortex equivalent).
Now. There has been a state-wide concern over
the scarcity of rain in California. This recent drought ended the day of my
movers arrived.
A monsoon.
You
say why and I say I don’t know, oh no
And finally a week after my move and sleep
enough to make up for 2.something years, I cried. A release. Not a monsoon but
a nice shower.
I let the needle drop. And it’s singing some
beautiful tunes.
I
say goodbye and I say hello
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