Wednesday, September 06, 2006

going down


I'm not feeling terribly writesy today, but I'll muddle ahead - my mind is in a bit of a jumble, so I suppose I'll just expectorate what's inside.

I.

Santa Barbara was exactly what I needed - hours zooming around in the breezy coastal sun, cuddled up to my Bear. We wine-dabbled. It was't a real out-and-out, serious tasting day - just a lackadaisical meandering through the valley, stopping here and there. I wasn't up for serious, anyway, and the undeserved snobbery of so much of the over-Rhoned wine culture up there doesn't really support the fee system. The tasting fees are almost as obnoxious as the sommeliers, honestly - $10 for four one-ounce pours? C'mon. Let's drop the pretense and acknowledge that you're just running a bar that happens to open early, aaight?

I could go on in my snooty-poo anti-snootiness rant, but I was really overjoyed to be up there, making faces at kids as they ran around us in circles in the park and stealing sugarcubes for the horses and discovering that - yes! - they do make a pretty good Albarino over here. And always there's my Bear beside me, surprising me over and over again with his incisive mind and preternatural observational powers and endless capacity for play.

In any case, it was a brilliant end to one hell of a summer.

II.

I booked a job for this coming week (beginning tomorrow) that's shrouded in mystery. I'm sort of on the edge of my seat about it. This setup will be new for me. I can hear the rollercoaster clickin' away underneath me, and at 9am tomorrow morning I'll be hearing the catch spring and the sound of my own screaming. God, do I take every single job really freakin' seriously. I mean, It's just a bunch of pretty pictures. C'mon, me. Get over it. Um - wish me luck?

III.

I'm starting to marinate in the Los Angeles Public Library's extensive collection of books about relocating overseas. Damn, this is going to be a hell of an adventure. I'm stumbling all over myself with joy and trepidation already.

It's making me remember that evening after school; it was several years ago, true, but it feels like another lifetime entirely. I remember being on the stationary bike, pedaling away - an evening like any other, with mom close by in the kitchen. As I'm sweating my way up a massive invisible hill, dad comes sweeping in the door. His face is drawn almost imperceptibly into the I'm-working-through-it tightness that I inherited for use in stressful situations, so I'm automatically on guard - and there it was. "We're going to the Caribbean," he grins.

And really, it was just fine. More than just-fine - defining.

But this time, I get to choose who, and I get to choose where, and I get to choose (y'know, sortof) what. And that fills me with toe-tingles and dreams of adventures to come and that prized, but sometimes elusive commodity - hope. Lots and lots and lots of hope.

This will be fun.

IV.

I guess I was feeling a bit writesy today.

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