Archive | I love LA RSS feed for this section

Quitting, Leaving, New Beginnings, And All Of That

22 Aug

Beach walkWell, I did it. I quit. Why did I quit my job, you ask? With less than two months before I get married, it’s time to make this transition and fully focus on the bittersweet process of leaving my old life and starting my new one. Some of you I’ve told in person, others may be finding out for the first time…I’m sorry if I haven’t had the chance with all of the craziness to talk to you all one on one, but at the end of September, I’m moving to San Diego County. I’m not going to say this has been the easiest thing for me. In fact, it’s been incredibly hard. But I think it will be good for many reasons. And it’s not like I’m moving to Djibouti.  It’s two hours away.

I’ll soon be entering into the unfamiliar territory called marriage and in order to do that well, I need to give myself time to process my life here in LA and all that this has meant for me. I need time to fulfill this bucket list of things that I’ve never done but have always wanted to do. Taping of Jeopardy anyone? A visit to Sprinkles? Touring some of those incredible looking churches on Wilshire I drive by sometimes? Also, most importantly to my soul at this point, I need to not sit on the 405 for three hours a day anymore. So, I’m leaving my job.

I’ve been in LA since 1998 and I’ve wanted to move to here since I was 10 years old and had the dream of becoming a “performing artist”, as I liked to call it. I even did a report on this when I was in 7th grade. My freshman year of college at USC, I made part of this dream a reality and I moved out here. Then I fulfilled another dream  of learning about film and television and got into USC’s film school. Not knowing what to expect, I fumbled my way through my freshman year as a Midwesterner public school kid in a California private school. I figured out how to write college papers, made some surface friends and then later some real friends, and learned a ton. I also became a Christian, which completely changed my priorities.

Upon graduation, I had several fun but crazy jobs in entertainment, I co-wrote a screenplay, wrote a play, worked on several TV shows, and realized that what I wanted most in this crazy city was a place of belonging. So I joined a women’s life group and a church and faced the world, relationships, breakups, unemployment and disappointments with others by my side.

I love LAI’ve grown to LOVE Los Angeles in many ways. I know it. It’s familiar. I’ve lived here longer than I’ve lived anywhere. It’s eclectic, diverse, interesting, never boring, urban, suburban in parts, and it’s the city where my dreams turned from superficial ones where I would become the female Steven Spielberg to where I learned how to follow Christ with all my heart, love justice, be a friend, serve, love, be broken, and be rebuilt again. It’s where I learned that money wasn’t everything, friendships could be fought for, and sticking to my true values in romantic relationships was more important than the feeling of being loved that I was so desperately chasing. LA has shaped me. I have so many memories here. As my time comes to a close, I hope to write about some of them and share what I’ve learned. I hope to end this chapter well and on my own terms so that I can enter my new life with a healthy outlook, spiritually grounded.

When I joined ChristianMingle and “smiled” at Mark, I did not know where San Marcos was. I thought it was a lot closer until I looked it up on a map.  We’ve been doing the 100 mile drive almost every weekend since April 2012. That’s a lot of miles. We’re both ready for that to be over and can’t wait to actually come home at the end of the day and get to be together.  With that happy possibility looming, it’s making my departure from the LA life brighter. I have hopes for the future. I want to be able to drive to the beach in 15 minutes. That will be awesome. I’ll hopefully be able to go to Mission Bay frequently and meet Shamu, finally. I hope for new friends, a new dream, and to fully launch my writing career that has been birthed out of my time here in LA.

Lots to do. 58 days till my wedding. 10 more work days, 20 more commutes. I’m doing this!

Welcome Fieldnotes Readers!

9 Apr

100thThis is actually my 100th post on my blog! How exciting. Today I had the privilege of being featured in Fieldnotes Magazine! After posting an article about leadership, Stephanie, a friend of mine who works for Fieldnotes Magazine, wrote me and told me about it.

I was excited and soon she connected me with Gideon, the editor and the executive director of the Max De Pree Center for Leadership. And voila! I was asked to write a piece about what gets me going in the morning. 

Sometimes life is like this. You can see the destination in the distance but you need to get through rain and traffic before you get there.

Sometimes life is like this. You can see the destination in the distance but you need to get through rain and traffic before you get there.

 

If you haven’t had a chance to take a look, please do! It was fun to write.

With this launch of my 100th post, I’m hoping to take this blog to the next level. In the coming days and weeks, I will be posting on here much more regularly and defining a little bit more of my vision of what I want the blog to be. If you know me at all, you know I’m usually changing my whole life all at once. This is one of those seasons.

I’m working with a life coach, counselor, and spiritual director to refine some of my goals, specifically in the writing realm, since I’ve declared that writing is what I want to do full-time.

As Ira Glass says, “Stay with us…” as I work toward that reality both on this blog and outside of it!

 

 

Completely Honest Thoughts at the End of A Long Week

30 Jun

I’m up too late again. But maybe not. Maybe this is when all the traffic and noise has gone away and I can finally be free to think and feel and process.

I’ve had a lot to process but not much space to do so. With all this change happening, I haven’t really been able to ask myself a key question: “How do you feel?”

It’s easy to go through life and be numb. Emotions are too hard. Relationships take too much time and investment. And if I’m honest, lately I don’t really want to engage, I just want to coast. I want God to show up and I don’t want to have to work for that relationship. I want friends to call me and somehow know that sitting in traffic is lonely. Looking at a clock and wondering what time I’ll make it to that appointment all the way back in Pasadena when I’m in Beverly Hills stresses me out. I long to run with friends, have events already planned, and the permission to just have fun. Not talk deeply, persay. Maybe pick up a golf club and drive some balls. Maybe bowl. Maybe hike or run. Or finally, through some vigorous exercise or something get to the bottom of this nagging feeling that something is left unfinished and all I can hear are the whispers: “How do I finish it? ”

In those moments, I reject all that I have learned and it’s like I put my earbuds in and tune out to the world. I can see people around me, just like the cars on the sidestreets in LA (especially on San Vicente near Olympic and Fairfax at about 5:42 every night). I can watch police pull people over. I see wealthy men yelling at a homeless guy for no apparent reason other than that our world is a broken place and who really knows why people are jerks sometimes? Elsewhere a woman gives a dollar and her last piece of bread to a different homeless guy. What does it all mean? I feel a cool breeze you can only really feel on the West Side of LA because the East Side feels more like a hairdryer but without the wind. It’s just plain hot.

In the midst of all of this change, I’ve numbed myself out. I’ve been turning to food for comfort. I’ve never done that before. But something about salt and vinegar chips spells comfort. Reverting back to the fast food of my youth soothes me, if only for a second. And then I start to wonder, what hunger am I trying to feed? What pain am I trying to avoid? What would happen if I said no to myself again when it came to stopping by Mcdonalds for a midnight sundae? In those moments I feel a sense of rebellion because I got away with something (breaking my plant based diet) and yet a sense of shame knowing that I’m trying to cover something up but not really aware enough to put my finger on it.

These could be anxious ramblings at the end of a long week. I could need to give myself grace to eat some fries once in awhile. I don’t know what appetites I’m trying to satisfy but I do know that when all of this feels up in the air, all I can keep turning to is Jesus. He is my sole-provider. No friend, no person, no conversation can ever take the place of who he has been and will be in these moments of uncertainty. He is my security and my life. He is my fortress and my shield. I shall not want. And I shall be thankful for all the things he’s brought me through.

Troubles, pain, sorrow, uncertainty. I long for a day when the brokenness I feel is completely restored. It will never happen in this life and yet, I ask God for the grace for some of those broken places to be brought to him. ‘Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus

I hope to remember that the next time I’m feeling numb and disengaged. Trust is a process. It’s an active process. But before I reengage with that fully, I may just follow the advice of someone I trust and go to a quiet place and just read a book. No striving. No self improvement. Just me and words on a page that will melt off of it into my head stringing into happy thoughts, songs of a life that isn’t mine. Situations I don’t really have to face because I’m just reading about them. Time to just get away…

Reader’s Choice: Which Of These Topics Do You Want To Read About?

19 Apr

I’m thinking so much I can’t really write it all down. It’s frenetic thinking. Too fast. I can’t just focus on one thing tonight. So instead of writing one blog about one thing, I’m going to let you vote on which topic you want me to write about. Leave a comment below and I’ll write a blog this weekend about it.
The Role of Kissing In Casual Dating : Some guy asked me about casual dating the other day and what I thought about it. I can share my thoughts about it here.

How to Deal with A Breakup Right After It Happens: I’ve covered this some but can go into more detail if anyone is interested.

What Jury Duty Taught Me About Chance Encounters, Tenant’s Rights, and Myself

Why I Think Texting Hinders Good Dating Practices

How Titanic Taught Me In My Search For Home And Why I’m Convinced It’s A Good Movie

My Thoughts On The 3 Day Fast I Just Completed.

 

What My Car Breaking Down Has Taught Me About God.

What the return of the boy band means for the Mayans predictions that the world will end this year. (okay that one is mostly a joke).

(Insert your own topic here and I’ll consider it).  This is the best I can do at 1AM.

 

True Confessions of an Online Dater

22 Mar

Online dating is like this.

My parents met at a mixer. It was in the middle of an apartment complex in 1974. Apparently there was dancing and drinks and my mom went up to my dad and said something like, “Aren’t you dancing tonight?” to which my dad replied, “I haven’t found anyone to dance with.’ Despite a few bumps in the road, they were married 9 months later on a farm (the same farm where Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall got married) at a potluck where my dad wore a T-shirt. I’m pretty sure because they weren’t rich, it was a nice but really low key event, like most events in my family have been celebrated ever since.

Seems like a pretty cut and dry story. I’ve started to wonder why it’s not that easy in Los Angeles to meet people.

I suppose I have pretty high standards these days. I tell my friends that I could probably easily go to a bar and find some random guy to hook up with if that was my style and not against my entire belief system. But that’s different than finding a relationship that will last. A person you want to do life with through the good and the bad. Someone who shares the same faith and dedication to God. Someone who I can respect. Someone who treats me well and thinks I’m the bees knees.

Someone who hasn’t been in jail.

But considering how difficult it’s become to meet new people in this city, I’m sort of starting to half-wonder if arranged marriage is really the worst idea in the world. (I tell my married friends to set me up, and I hope they will!) But meanwhile, I’ve taken matters into my own hands.

Confession: In the past few years on and off, I entered into the world of online dating. There are good and bad things about this realm.

The bad things first: Forrest Gump’s mom was right: you never know what you’re going to get.

I’ve been on dates with everyone from pastors to former prisoners (I found out on the date after emailing and talking on the phone with this guy for two weeks). I’ve had amazing email conversations followed by dates that were less than stellar. I’ve done long distance only to find out that he didn’t want to move after all. I’ve gotten invested too quickly and been saddened when it didn’t work out. I went out with one guy only to have him not talk to me the entire lunch. I’ve met some duds. It’s been quite a journey. Hard at times. It’s important to be safe and tell people where you’re going. And several times I swore I would never go back to this world.

But then something happens and I remember the good:

I’ve also met some amazing guys who have taught me a lot about myself and encouraged me in my faith. I’ve learned to risk. I know how to have fun with strangers now! Not a lot surprises me (especially after the prison confession). Yet, I have hope for online dating. Why?

Because one of my good friends who was incredible met an equally incredible man through online dating and now they have twins and a baby on the way. I’ve seen success stories! I know that in a city like Los Angeles when I get stuck in the “Pasadena bubble” as I like to call it, there are a whole bunch of good, kind, amazing men wanting to date. And it only takes one. So the odds are in my favor!

You never know where you'll find love...

Part of this is an encouragement to all of my friends who are either online or who want to be. It’s tough but it can be great. It’s risky but it can be fun! I’ve been to the beach, miniature golfing, to some restaurants I would have never gone to, to the Gamble House, to movies I ended up loving, to “Wicked”, I went to Disneyland with a guy I met online, and I’ve met men that I’m not sorry to have met. I’ve made connections, found guys who were serious about their faith and living it out, and had some deep conversations. Online dating, while not the most ideal/easy way to meet someone, can actually give us a lot of perspective, wisdom, and hope. And best of all, new experiences and great/hilarious stories for parties if things don’t work out. 🙂

Caveat: Online dating is kind of like a part time job. If you’re not dedicated to checking your profile and replying and emailing people, it’s sort of a waste of money and time. If you’re too picky, you’ll never find out what you do and don’t like. If you judge too quickly or aren’t able to discern what you want, it can be a problem.

I still go to mixers/parties in hopes that maybe I’ll meet the guy that I have enough guts to ask why he’s not dancing tonight. But in order to be actively available, sometimes I have to put aside my hopes to meet the man of my dreams at church (although I’m still hoping for that) and log in to my online dating profile and remember, this isn’t my parents’ story. And putting myself out there while risky might just help me find an amazing guy to share life with. And isn’t that worthwhile? My friend with the twins and the Iron Man husband  she met online would say “YES!”

 

Sweet Home, Chicago

29 Feb

(Part of the writing practice I did today)

Buckingham Fountain with my friend, Vanessa, back years ago

Chicago:

I called it home once.

The Metra would, without my parents’ knowledge, whisk me away from stark suburbia to The City where magical adventures awaited.

With my friends, I’d skate on State or press my face against the ornate Marshall Fields Christmas window displays, wondering to my teeange self if they might hold the key to happiness.

Often, I would find my way to North Avenue Beach after lingering at the Hancock’s 95th floor to sneak a peak at life above the Lake Effect.

Through Navy Pier I once walked with white platform sandals on Prom night to the Odyssey, the boat where my senior year boyfriend sweetly but naively promised me forever with a $95 purple amethyst from JC Penny.

The lions guarding the Art Institute would welcome me with their protective scowls to discover George Seurat’s version of Sunday in a Parisian park or “American Gothic” and I’d gaze into a window of Edward Hopper’s soul otherwise known as “Nighthawks.”

Chicago means Buckingham Fountain during a summer sunset right before I had to sprint to the 5PM train to make it back in time for dinner without my mother knowing. It is fireworks at the Taste of Chicago and sweaty humid afternoons spent wandering.

It’s me as a production assistant for a commercial at Charlie Trotter’s posh restaurant where I first learned what was really in fois gras.

It is Shakespeare and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, cultural experiences I discovered for the first time on awkward middle school field trips that left an indelible imprint in my memory.

Chicago was my cousin’s church cathedral wedding at the same venue where Cameron Diaz married Dermot Mulrooney in “My Best Friend’s Wedding.”

It is Giordano’s pizza and Chicago Pizza and Ovengrinder where I discovered heaven as a food.

The piece of heaven I'm referring to

It is ornate bridges and a green river on St. Patrick’s Day. It’s shopping on Michigan Avenue and driving down Lakeshore Drive by myself the first day I got my driver’s license.

It is smokestacks and breath that freezes in your lungs before you can catch it. Buildings so tall I lay down on the pavement just to see them scrape the sky.

It’s the El train and shiny lights at night. Taxis everywhere. Buses rumored to be homes for rats. The financial district deserted by dusk.

Admittedly I have never been an adult while living in Chicago. I’ve become a California girl and replaced a lake with an ocean, bitter bleak winters that build character and frostbite tolerance with February short sleeved mornings with windows down and sunscreen streaks across my arms.

Yet Chicago whispers to me. When I let myself think of it, it beckons. And slowly I let myself remember driving down 290 under the Post Office building into a real City where people work and bustle and toil and become. And in that moment, I go home.

What I Noticed On A Saturday in Santa Monica in February

25 Feb

Flying, flying

The seagulls call to one another silently and in a swift, fluid motion, they join together one after the other gliding over the Santa Monica horizon.

Where ocean meets sky, where sand meets water, the seagulls fly.

Over the crowd of Road Runner LA marathoners clad in orange shirts, each with their neon green water bottles tucked neatly into the back of their equipment belts.

They fly over the band of surfers in wetsuits, waiting patiently in the easy waves for their next jolt of life.

Over the kids in helmets learning to ride bikes and their exhausted but excited parents in pursuit.

Over the guy on his cell phone half running after his giggling baby playing gleefully in the sand.

Over the shirtless lifeguard removing the locks from his tower’s windows, opening up for his daily shift.

Over the paparazzi yelling out names of celebrities exiting limos as they arrive for the Independent Spirit Awards.

Over fans, also yelling names of their favorite stars, while stuffing the morning’s left over bagel into their mouths and wiping away the crumbs.

They fly over the two women jogging on the beach catching each other up on the happenings of their week.

Over the carnival rides at the Santa Monica Pier where distant screams of glee fill the air.

Over memories. New ones being made, old ones being forgotten.

Over volleyball games just beginning. Sons learning from fathers how to spike a ball.

Over unruly dogs trying to steal the leash from their owners.

Over problems and the people who cause them.  Over fights. Over parking mishaps. Over police directing traffic. Over smiling kids. Over tourists. Over empty beach in this February off season.

Over me, laying here observing it all, watching their flight and wondering if anyone else has taken the time to see how magnificent it all is.

The Summer Tease

12 Jan
It did not feel like the Winter Solstice in Santa Monica. The early sun was beating overhead and when She breathed, it was so easy to take a gulp of fresh sea air, almost as if She could inhale forever and forget that winter was ever a season. Here She felt free to rollerblade near the beach, leaning into the curves of the path, getting lost among the young families teaching their children how to ride a bike and the runners gliding through another sunrise on the trails that lead to Malibu.The sun glimmered on Her cool face, warming it until beads of sweat appeared on her brow. Scarves and Uggs and layers were ubiquitously peeled off to reveal skin and tank tops and the unmistakable scent of sunscreen lathered thick. It was a dichotomy. Summer in winter. Something felt off and yet so perfect. It meant a new season. It signaled exchanging the old for new. The heaviness of winter forsaken for the promise and lightness of summer. Would it last?

While the rest of Her surroundings easily masqueraded winter, the ocean, which She dared to dip her toe in it, could not lie. Her foot was submerged in an icy remnant of a wave but just as soon as She dared plunge it in, the shock caused Her to jerk her foot away, as if caught in a trap. Still, it was nice to pretend that summer was upon Her. Winter had not been kind thus far. It meant memories and loss. A broken relationship. A sad roommate. A Christmas that would shortly be glossed over because too much had happened this past year to really make the effort to celebrate wholeheartedly.

And yet this burst of summer energy, this secret unearthed at the beach among the graffiti artists of Venice and lone runners and Herself, was a reminder that things aren’t always what they seem. She thought back to the windstorm several weeks earlier. It had rained sheets. The windows shook with such a fury, nearly rattling out of their frames. They say winds reached 100 miles per hour evidenced by the 500 trees that were uprooted that night only to be toppled over like a full Monopoly board after an encounter with a toddler. Mother Nature had wreaked her havoc and the results equalled the Mayor declaring a disaster area. Driving was treacherous. Power lines were felled.

She wondered back then if this was a foreboding signal for worse things yet to come. Would winter settle here and stay? She remembered the biting, shallow breaths from winters of her past in Chicago during days when 30 below was the norm. Breaths that stuck inside the tight place in her throat where freezing air met hot droplets of steam, crystalizing instantly. Winter then was a long bony finger sticking out of a cage, tauntingly. It was silent but in those silences were long depressions. Unanswered questions. She did not want to go back.

California meant kept promises. It was sunsets and moments not missed, but experienced. Similarly, Winter solstice meant change was coming, but maybe not in the way she thought. Shifting seasons was always a bit unnerving in the beginning, but sometimes this became a welcome gift. A newness. The oldness not lingering, but growing into something different and good. Full of potential and possible joy. And so She decided in that moment when the seagulls were flying aimlessly over the palm trees and the scent of eggs and bacon were wafting toward her, intermingling with the sea salt, that she was happy. “Winter solstice, come all you want,” she thought. “While many see the day with the least amount of sun, I’m reminded that every day after will mean more and more light until summer isn’t just teasing me, but it’s real.

The Hike Where I Almost Died, The Risk That Hurt, Singleness, and Other Mini-Thoughts

29 Dec

Mini-thoughts On My Year – #1

At the end of the year, I often reflect on where I’ve been, hoping to find some commonalities, a story, maybe the imprint of God on my life. This year was no different. An unexpected year, to be sure. A difficult year? Yes, in many ways. But did I grow more? Did I stretch more? Yes. Yes I did. Did I impact lives like I’d hoped to? I’d like to think I did even if it wasn’t in the ways I’d originally thought. Did I love until it hurt? Yes. I can say that for sure I did. Did I come out unscathed? No. I have bruises and scrapes. My heart hurts sometimes from loving this much. Was it awkward? Yes. It is always awkward to love people. When it’s really love, I’ve noticed that it becomes a sacrificial act. And it’s intentional. I had to decide to love even when I didn’t want to. I had to step out. Do things that hurt. Forgive. Grieve. Laugh again. Risk again. Know when I couldn’t participate. Know when I had to push myself forward to take part. I had to trust. I had to examine. I had to let go. I had to spend some time in counseling. I surrounded myself with great people. I realized I have a long way to go. Still do.

Mini- thoughts On Singleness- #2

Note: The following is not a boo-hoo fest on being single. Just a few thoughts I’m processing.

The hardest part about risking and having it not work out is that you sometimes lose a friend in the process. That’s what I’ve noticed about dating. It’s a lot of fun to date and get to know someone else. I highly recommend it and think that it’s necessary and essential if you ever really want to be known. But if you do it right, you’ve gained a real friend when getting to know someone and saying goodbye to that person, no matter how long you’ve been seeing them, is painful.

This is especially the case around the holidays, as I’ve discovered this year. When you see couples and families and get Christmas cards with pictures all over them (which I happen to love, by the way 🙂 ) and you somehow hear every version of “Blue Christmas” ever recorded (the one from Glee is my fave this year!), or when you are just having a sad moment when you remember what it was like to not be alone, it does make it a little difficult for us recently single people.

BEGIN PSA- So this New Year’s Eve or even this next year, if you have someone to kiss or you have kids and a family, remember those of us who don’t and give us a hug. Invite us to hang out with you. I realized the other night when I was hanging out with one of my favorite families and my 5 year old friend was bejeweling my fingers and toes after painting them with hot pink Hello Kitty nail polish, that hanging out with families is so healing for me.  I’m reminded there’s more to the holidays than my blues. I’m thankful for how I’ve seen my married friends and their kids grow.  Hug us. Give us a call. Invite us into your lives. We won’t be sorry and neither will you.  END PSA.  

Mini-thought That Turned Into A Story #3

If I could encapsulate this year in an analogy, I would say it was like this hike that I took in the latter part of this year in Malibu.

The whole point of the hike wasn’t to get to the waterfall at the end, although that was a big part of it. I didn’t know where I was going. At first, it was just a street with a group of majestic mansions on it. It was a beautiful walk but did not resemble a hike quite yet. Little did I know what was coming. After the street, I trekked down through the grass, on a dirt path, through the woods. I got to this point where I literally had to crawl up a steep part of a jagged path. Then after I made it through that, I scaled a couple of boulders and pulled myself up. Finally came the rope. In order to climb up the side of this steep cliff, I had to use a rope and lean back while pulling myself up the side of a mountain. I was parallel with the ground. That took trust. Part of me didn’t want to continue.

After venturing past that and a lot of people, I made it to the waterfall. It was beautiful and tall. Unexpected.

Along the side of the waterfall was this branch that jutted out. Next to that was a slim that one could use, if they were crazy enough, to climb up, shimmying their way across a slippery, thin ledge up into the waterfall. It took a lot of faith, a few swear words, a whole lot of trust, and a few people to help me, but I wanted to climb up into that waterfall and make it back in one piece.

The water was cold even though it was an 80 degree day. It was pelting on my head and I was shaking, getting all of my clothes drenched as I muddied my arms and hands, clawing my way up through moss and slippery rocks until I stood erect in my triumphant arrival .

When I could finally stand and enjoy it, I realized something. I had to figure out how to get back down. I had made it up so part of me knew I could make it. But sooner or later, I would have to start down the waterfall the same way I’d come up. I was surprised when I was able to climb down. It took more effort than climbing up. A stranger literally had to prop me up. I took steps and then backtracked, not trusting where I was stepping. I almost cried. Part of me wanted to jump off although I surely would hurt myself in the fall. In the end, I made it  down to safe ground and I was proud. Proud that I had risked at all. Exhilarated that I could do something like that and not die.

Ever since that moment, I’ve wondered what else I could do. How else can I let myself be surprised? How else can I trust? How can I go through 2012 with more moments of triumph?

Risking in community

Mini-thought on Risk #4

Going back to my year, I’m surprised. Surprised that loss after risk didn’t do serious damage to me or to my friends. Yes it hurts. So much. But not as much as it would hurt if I hadn’t realized what I do now. I know more of what I want after I risked and it didn’t turn out. I am healed more from a past that sometimes feels like a bag full of rocks that I don’t want to carry anymore. As much as it has hurt and still sometimes hurts, the risk was worth it.

And Now For Something Completely Different…

2 Jun

Missing My Friend

One of Jessica's first gigs on stage

This song reminds me of a simple time, when you and I were younger. We didn’t know much although we thought we knew it all. One thing we did know was how to laugh. We knew how to find adventure around every corner. We believed in each other and that was enough. All our flaws. All our innocence. Your crazy, my weird. We forged something beautiful akin to sisterhood in several California seasons.

But you’ve been gone now for four years. Living where beaches have longer grass and humid weather weaves its way into hurricane season. This song still reminds me of you. Your passion for a band and how you breathed that passion into my life. And not just about that, about so many things. God. Songs played on guitar. Cars with their windows down. Driving around.

I don’t believe that people complete you but if I did, you’d be one of those puzzle pieces of my life that’s not in the box anymore. The one the kid can’t find that’s probably gathering dust under a couch somewhere next to a stale cheeto. All that to say, I miss you. On nights like tonight when I’m walking around during the beginning of another California summer, the kind you’d love, the kind with blue skies tracked with puffy jet streams and star jasmine taking your breath away, I think of you. I miss you. I miss how you know me and made me feel safe like very few people in the world have. With a look. With a laugh. Just by being you. In the lonely moments, I know that you’re still there knowing me somewhere. It’s just not here.

%d bloggers like this: