There is something very exciting for me in having a full tank of gas. It is as if there are a myriad of possibilities in the freedom to roam. I try not to remember on these occasions that my full tank of gas actually costs close to forty dollars. Well, every type of freedom has a price.
I found myself today in another part of LA that I hadn't seen, with stately homes in all different colors. I ended up on the wrong doorstep, making my apologies and rushing off to find the correct address. My work days are so strange.
And then I was driving back to the Westside, running on empty not in my gas tank, but in my stomach. But the problem with driving home in LA is that there is not just one way, but rather, some eighteen ways. The consequence of a gridded urban plan is that the shops on every corner and lane will tempt you on the road home. I tried to plot a path back where one could be a stopover. But I was partially delirious with hunger, and nothing made sense. And one by one, the cafes passed me by, and the promise of a new pastry treat or a novel panini combination lapsed.
It amazes me that you can dwell on something, live with something, and be that something for so long. And then one day you will wake up and it is just not there anymore. And with that, there is a rare clarity, coupled by a sadness in having let go. It is always difficult allowing yourself to forget, even if they are bad memories.
A new year means having new hair. Especially if it's done by Carlos!
posted by Lucy Sloan @ 3:09 PM
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