Thursday, August 8, 2013

These last few weeks of summer in Colorado have been all over the place—literally, emotionally, and otherwise. I don't know what otherwise entails exactly, but whatever it is, it's been all over the place, too. I'm getting to that point where I'm craving structure again. I miss my Tuesdays tutoring at 826la. I miss my Sunday back to back yoga classes. I miss having a schedule. I do NOT miss the train, commuting to campus, or freezing cold classrooms. But I'm ready for school to start again. A beginning I will always have for the rest of my life, thanks to academia. I can't imagine August signifying something other than the start of the school year. I mean, I can. August signifies a lot of things. Usually endings and beginnings. At least 5 of my friends moved into new places this month. This used to be the time of year when everyone I loved left to go back to college when I was still in high school. It was the best and the worst. The most love and the most tears. Sometimes first kisses. Sometimes last kisses. Sometimes final concerts for the season at Red Rocks. But always, always, the beginning of school. Buying books. Re-organizing. The sorts of things that make me giddy with the dorkiest kind of excitement.

I'm going to miss Colorado, like I always do, but I think last summer when I changed my childhood room into something more adult, I began the process of letting go. Of what, I'm not entirely sure, but of some part of this place that's always made it hard for me to live happily anywhere else. And this year, my leaving doesn't involve the stress of moving. It doesn't even involve the sadness of leaving everyone I know behind because most everyone I know lives somewhere else now. I've spent the last few weeks soaking up everything I need to carry with me during the months I'm away. Friends. Friends' children. The mountains [the real mountains], Boulder, a certain kind of sunshine, a cleaner kind of air.

I went to a Rodeo in Avon. Had a little too much fun at a hotel bar in Beaver Creek. Read in parks, read in coffee shops, ate myself stupid in Boulder during happy hour after happy hour, went to the zoo, sat under trees talking to far away friends on the phone, took walks around my neighborhood, got a tragus piercing, did a lot of yoga, got a massage, went to a stretch therapist [my back is always a mess], slept in late, watched House of Cards, skyped with T, fell down, got back up, had a small child try to stuff puzzle pieces in my mouth. You know. Summer things.

I like being able to close out my summer this way with a post. It suits the obsessive compulsive in me. Lately it's been harder to do these posts because I'm not doing one particular thing and I'm not in one particular place. Or I am, in Colorado, but Colorado is so vast for me that it doesn't feel like one particular place at all. Sometimes it even feels like no place. Or like every place. There's been a lack of cohesion to the last few weeks that I don't totally love, which is why I've got to narrativize everything here. So I can move forward without feeling like I've left any loose ends. People have moved away. My desire for my neighborhood mexican food is slowly dissipating. I never quite regained my strength after my 3 week journey in the eastern states, but I'm also ready for another adventure. 

Things I'm most excited about in Los Angeles: returning to M's Sunday yoga classes, returning to D and the rest of my kids at 826, returning to my PhD folks, the ocean, walking to Intelligentsia, all the shows I've got tickets for this semester [Gregory Alan Isakov, Animal Collective, Okkervil River, Nine Inch Nails, FYF Fest, The National], my bungalow, my front yard, building a garden, my girls, the PCH, my retired couple from airplane, my succulents, palm trees, Trader Fucking Joe's, being able to reasonably manage my budget again, trips to the desert, discovering even more incredible things about the city I'm lucky enough to call home. I've got one more weekend left of summer until teacher training boot camp begins Tuesday. One weekend of remembering how to breathe before I forget all over again.

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