"Really I just needed to get out of 'Zona," Whoa said as he hopped into the backseat. The road trip Santa Monica began. I had no hopes for this trip. I joined the competition team one week ago. Hotel money, gas money, food money, sharing beds, cramming in cars--not fun for me anymore. I'm getting older. But it seemed right to go.
|Our hotel. Sleeping three to a full bed isn't the worst actually. You can get through.|
It was everything.
|Tournament morning. My things I need for good 'prov.|
|Old writing friends. always supportive. Life! Is! Big!|
|College in a person.|
It was a refresh. Basics. Bagels and journals. Beach walks and sunrises. My college pal. My childhood friend and I split a piece of cherry pie to honor the place we spent summers.
Why do we get what we need? Exactly what we need? I have Dizz for relationship talks, Jamin for mems, those LA boys for TV news. They're workhorses out there. I have new babes to remember I'm happy to age and senior chums to remind me I'm not there yet.
I'm not smart enough to have sought these things specifically. I couldn't have guessed I'd be laughing hysterically outside a Subway because Whoa would buy us all Frozen bags to commemorate how I was singing it in the bathroom before finals and that kid in the grey crewneck from Claremont college heard me. I broke during the set.
|Right after we won. Regional champions two times running.|
I wonder if it is survival of the fittest. The parts we require strain into our life? Obviously it's okay not to know. As long as you're grateful, life may hand you a plaque and a getaway. It wasn't that much money after all. Now that it's been spent. Now that I have stood, staring at this bird. We were both alone thinking about the ocean.
Still, I couldn't wait to get back home. That's the truest stuff. Life is just as good as vacation.