hoorah, coffee shop internet
LA is so beautiful.
it's sort of funny being back. i'm here long enough that it's not like a quick visit, but not long enough that it's like i am really here. there's no real settling in, there's no hey, i'm here for a while, so let's really hang out this time and get back in each others lives, there's sleeping on floors and waiting for rides, visits and a lack of independence.
there's how i miss everyone and thing missable from back home, but gee man, am i glad to be home, have i ever missed everything.
it's like hearing about what went down at the christmas party i missed, hearing who all from high school was there, and partially thinking man, they're all still hanging out together? haven't they made any more friends since then, jeez? and partially thinking wow, that's so cool that they can still hang out together, i wish i could have been there.
like hey, there's this total BEEFCAKE (only way to describe him, i promise- all american frat boy actor type) (HAH nicole you know him lol) who randomly plans to take me out when i get back, and then there's this [what some of the fibers girls call] lobster [as in one mate for life] boy here whom i have to remind myself that i haven't known since before i was born, whom i haven't seen in three years, despite how it may feel as comfortable as if i've been living next door to him for the last three centuries.
the streets are wider out here, and jaywalking is really truly ticketable illegal. the fruit is bigger and sweeter, and the sky omnipresent. most people drive, and those who bike are on mountain bikes, on the sidewalk, despite the occasional poorly paved, hilly bike lane. my clothes all seem fancy and overbright. there is no need to visually celebrate the return of or desire for warm temperatures here, they never left. the gardens are beautiful year round. my shoulders are sunburnt.the succulents grow as tall as i do. i no longer fit in the dresses my mom has saved for me, my bust has grown on its own, my back muscles have grown with weaving, and suddenly my zippers won't go all the way up. my mom laughs at me as i no longer fit into things she wore when i was an infant. everyone exclaims behind me how healthy i look, how i've turned into a young woman, how they used to worry but look at me now, they are so pleasantly surprised. the twiggy , possibly sickly bean pole they knew has matured, and lo, behold, she flowers.
i relearn that my mom has no impulse control. i learn that the property i've told her sell, sell, sell, is one of the most beautiful houses i've ever been in, and suddenly i recant, recant, recant. a gallery out here wants my work, woo hoo, i am a bi-coastal artist, look at that flower.
i think i may decide to focus my grad studies on the academic elements of textiles culture, as opposed to the studio art elements thereof, so that i could move back here and be warm again, instead of going to say detroit and freezing my tears.
i need to learn to drive, things are so different out here, my mom and i bought three types of beer and two bottles of wine at the grocery store, with coupons, and inside i positively guffawed.
i have grown and changed a million fold since i've been in philly, it's almost like i've never been here before as me, (except for when i am with him, and then he has known me all along?) or like i've never been here at all, or like i don't know what, i know i'll cry when i leave, this place feels very confusing to me, though divinely warm.
yesterday i went to my grandparents' house for the first time since they both died. when my grandfather went, that was when i stopped coming to california. i felt like everytime i visited, it just threw a giant wrench in my life, made me dissatisfied with everything elsewhere, was too disruptive, and everyone i was friends with either had moved or become someone else, my mom could come to me, and i only returned for my grandfather- once he was gone, i stopped returning. when i walked into his room yesterday i teared up as fast as if he'd died yesterday, so i walked right back out. a few minutes later, the scene repeated. it was funny in the odd sort of way.
and even though it feels like i've never even been here, the air in my lungs and the light on my skin makes me feel as though i never left.
i had such terrible nightmares for days, and now in my dreams i don't run from the villains, i rather kill them in self defense, though i am someone else.
i am know nothing and everything all at once, i am entirely confused and yet not confused at all.
there's no end note to this entry.
it's sort of funny being back. i'm here long enough that it's not like a quick visit, but not long enough that it's like i am really here. there's no real settling in, there's no hey, i'm here for a while, so let's really hang out this time and get back in each others lives, there's sleeping on floors and waiting for rides, visits and a lack of independence.
there's how i miss everyone and thing missable from back home, but gee man, am i glad to be home, have i ever missed everything.
it's like hearing about what went down at the christmas party i missed, hearing who all from high school was there, and partially thinking man, they're all still hanging out together? haven't they made any more friends since then, jeez? and partially thinking wow, that's so cool that they can still hang out together, i wish i could have been there.
like hey, there's this total BEEFCAKE (only way to describe him, i promise- all american frat boy actor type) (HAH nicole you know him lol) who randomly plans to take me out when i get back, and then there's this [what some of the fibers girls call] lobster [as in one mate for life] boy here whom i have to remind myself that i haven't known since before i was born, whom i haven't seen in three years, despite how it may feel as comfortable as if i've been living next door to him for the last three centuries.
the streets are wider out here, and jaywalking is really truly ticketable illegal. the fruit is bigger and sweeter, and the sky omnipresent. most people drive, and those who bike are on mountain bikes, on the sidewalk, despite the occasional poorly paved, hilly bike lane. my clothes all seem fancy and overbright. there is no need to visually celebrate the return of or desire for warm temperatures here, they never left. the gardens are beautiful year round. my shoulders are sunburnt.the succulents grow as tall as i do. i no longer fit in the dresses my mom has saved for me, my bust has grown on its own, my back muscles have grown with weaving, and suddenly my zippers won't go all the way up. my mom laughs at me as i no longer fit into things she wore when i was an infant. everyone exclaims behind me how healthy i look, how i've turned into a young woman, how they used to worry but look at me now, they are so pleasantly surprised. the twiggy , possibly sickly bean pole they knew has matured, and lo, behold, she flowers.
i relearn that my mom has no impulse control. i learn that the property i've told her sell, sell, sell, is one of the most beautiful houses i've ever been in, and suddenly i recant, recant, recant. a gallery out here wants my work, woo hoo, i am a bi-coastal artist, look at that flower.
i think i may decide to focus my grad studies on the academic elements of textiles culture, as opposed to the studio art elements thereof, so that i could move back here and be warm again, instead of going to say detroit and freezing my tears.
i need to learn to drive, things are so different out here, my mom and i bought three types of beer and two bottles of wine at the grocery store, with coupons, and inside i positively guffawed.
i have grown and changed a million fold since i've been in philly, it's almost like i've never been here before as me, (except for when i am with him, and then he has known me all along?) or like i've never been here at all, or like i don't know what, i know i'll cry when i leave, this place feels very confusing to me, though divinely warm.
yesterday i went to my grandparents' house for the first time since they both died. when my grandfather went, that was when i stopped coming to california. i felt like everytime i visited, it just threw a giant wrench in my life, made me dissatisfied with everything elsewhere, was too disruptive, and everyone i was friends with either had moved or become someone else, my mom could come to me, and i only returned for my grandfather- once he was gone, i stopped returning. when i walked into his room yesterday i teared up as fast as if he'd died yesterday, so i walked right back out. a few minutes later, the scene repeated. it was funny in the odd sort of way.
and even though it feels like i've never even been here, the air in my lungs and the light on my skin makes me feel as though i never left.
i had such terrible nightmares for days, and now in my dreams i don't run from the villains, i rather kill them in self defense, though i am someone else.
i am know nothing and everything all at once, i am entirely confused and yet not confused at all.
there's no end note to this entry.