Home Coming

You know that feeling when you buckle yourself into your airplane seat and you've been standing in lines and proving that you are not a terrorist to grumpy TSA agents and taxying around the runway waiting to take off and your plane finally leaves the ground and your tummy stays on the ground for just a moment too long?
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Saying Goodbye is Hard

I thought I understood this. Sure, saying goodbye is hard... of course it is... I've been telling myself that it's not goodbye - not really. It's "I'll talk to you soon." I keep trying to reassure myself and my friends that my move DOES NOT mean that I am breaking up with them. As I type this, tears are falling into my oatmeal... and a very slight rain is dripping down my windows.

On friday my dear girlfriends, Hannah and Laura, surprised me with afternoon tea at the Chado Tea Room in Downtown Pasadena. For nearly 3 hours we sat and sipped tea and ate salad and laughed so hard that people were staring - just like we do when the three of us meet for dinner once a month. This was our last one... now we are scheduling our facetime dates and planning our trips back and forth to visit each other.

I took the long way home after our tea. I wanted to drive my old streets one more time. I parked outside my very first Pasadena apartment... it's a wonder it's still standing - it looks the same - maybe smaller and dirtier. The landlord was a slumlord, there's mold and a leaky roof but I loved that old place... I did a lot of growing up here.

This is the view of Pasadena from the Balcony of Laura's new office. I lived in Pasadena for 6 years before moving to Long Beach last year. It's not the shiny place I remember... it's the city that gave me my first asthma attack... The city that remembers me as the girl who was hit by a car... But it's the city where I made so many amazing friends.

See the manhold cover in the crosswalk? That was the exact spot where I was walking when I was struck by the Nissan Versa on October 19th, 2009. I feel like I was a completely different person then. 

Again, I'm not leaving people - I'm leaving a city... in hopes that this next season is a whole lot simpler.

Taking Complaints

Do you ever feel like you are spending your days just taking complaints?

I have lately. Summer school students complain about reading homework... normally chatty neighbors are grumbling about their lives... It's hard to stay positive when everyone around you is cranky. It's putting me in a bad mood. And maybe it's the humidity, but Oliver is suddenly allergic to the grass... he's not in high spirits either... he's just itchy.

I've found a trick over the years that always make me feel better. Some people go for chocolate or a bottle of wine. Sure. A warm bath with pretty smelling candles. I totally get it.

This might sound weird but I clean out my closets. For some reason, lightening my load, clearing away some clutter helps me find some focus. I breath easier.

Also, I watched a documentary on Netflix the other day: Tiny: A Story about Living Small. It was about the "tiny house" movement which I never knew existed and now I'm sort of obsessed with. People build and live in homes that are less than 200 sq. ft. Now, don't get me wrong, I really don't want to live in such a confined space. I think the intriguing thing about it is the freedom these people gain when they pay cash for and build themselves a home... suddenly their things don't own them...

I recently had a birthday and I've been thinking about what I want my life to look like. Making plans for an uncertain future seems almost futile, and yet - full of possibilities.

Can we quit complaining, please!?