My mechanic says there is nothing wrong with my car but for some reason the pre-smog test says that my car is not ready for a test yet. I've had to file an extension on my registration. My mechanic says it has to be driven more. "Just keep driving," he says, "Keep going."
So, I've been turning circles around Los Angeles. It's hard to believe that nearly six years ago, I was brand new here. These roads feel so familiar now. I've come to love this city more than I could've understood back then. I'm also allergic to it... it's a complicated relationship. I have my complicated moments...
From my windshield I've been watching the fading summer light slowly usher in a new season. I've been fingering my steering wheel like a rosary and whispering doxologies to the brake lights ahead. I might need to escape this sea of people.
This afternoon I stood at the edge of the ocean, a cliffs drop below me with a wind that reminds me that it could toss me like a penny into a fountain. The thought gives new meaning to "a drop in a bucket" and I fear I'm underdressed for what comes next. I've left my hard hat, steel toed boots, slicker, wetsuit, and flashlight somewhere... If I've ever been that prepared in life. I'm usually armed with a mix tape (iTunes playlist), a blank book, and a pen. And even these feel like too much to carry through certain days. Ever the futurist, all this daily clutter and confusion cover up my view of what's coming. I've been gripping the edge of this page and trying so hard to rush into the next chapter.
But my mechanic says that my little black jetta and I are not ready yet. So, I'll keep going.