I’ve been sick and traveling and now I’m still sick but finally stationary and jet-lagged, the kind that wakes you up out of the blue at 5 in the morning, the kind that sends you to bed before 10.
It felt good to get to California. S pointed out the plane’s window and I leaned over him to get a glimpse of Palm Springs as we started our descent into LAX. The flight had been bumpy. We’d half-finished a crossword puzzle and then S cheated at the rest. It was still sunny at 8 when we walked to get a salad. S made pasta. I fell asleep on the couch.
We spent Memorial Day in Maryland, a tiny town on the water called Easton. I got sunburned on the coldest of days and at night wore every layer I’d brought, resulting in an overlarge silhouette and cold hands and cold feet and a cold face. S and his friends played music for hours and everyone drank themselves silly except me (alas, an ulcer) and each night we ended up out on the dock, with bodies huddled against each other to shield ourselves from the invasive water-wind.
It was so perfectly New England, and such a fitting send off to my move to LA, which seems at once to have snuck up on me while also somehow arriving exactly on time. The next few weeks will involve job searches and apartment searches (leads on either are greatly appreciated!) and writing for grad school and edits for my second and (hopefully) third books and a lot of reading and a lot of recuperating. I’ve never been so unsure of what a summer will bring but I think that’s probably a good thing.
photographs taken with a Canon 60D in Easton, Maryland.