To Jules
It has hit me recently that I do not want to say too much in this phase of my life. It will pass, as all things do.
Foral, are you still there? In my silence, I wonder most about you because of all the ways in which you have encouraged me here. For that, merci beaucoup. I hope we see each other again soon. And that you'll take me to Hermes.
Moving On
I had a very conflicted time in San Diego this weekend. Some things were brilliant, some were simply not the same. These words are intentionally ambiguous. I feel very worn out from always being caught in the middle of things. Caught between cities, caught between friends. Caught between loyalties and most importantly, not knowing what I want myself.
I did this stalker thing in San Diego where I went to my old apartment around 1:00am and sort of just lurked around the windows. I couldn't help it. I peered inside, terribly curious at the furniture arrangement and decorating taste of the new tenant. Does she have as much trouble with the French windows? Does she keep the kitchen window closed because of all the dust? I wonder how she likes the arched doorways? Oh, that sure is a nice white overstuffed chair. It felt weird to be heading north from the Gaslamp and not stopping at the Third Street apartment to climb into bed and be deliciously hung over for the next day.
So I just kept driving north, to Bay Park where I was staying with Natalia. I had once lived in Bay Park, too. It was a different time and I was a different person.
What I learned this weekend was that, in life, sometimes when you are just too tired to go on, you have to chalk up your losses and be happy with what you have accomplished. This is not especially motivational. It's not my go-to mantra. It's just stuff you tell yourself when you need to just be happy with yourself and no longer fret over circumstances you cannot control.
Dozer, violence is not the answer! We only hit people when we absolutely have to.
- Tracy, to Dozer, after he wapped Bridget's head with his ginormous paw.
