Day two of being back, and I’m still severely hungover on San Diego.
Not just the West Coast; not the waves, the sun, the humidity or the sea food (well, maybe most definitely the sea food). I miss it all.
Photo by Sergio Salmodov
I experienced a lot in four days, a lot for someone who will forever believe that she’s seen it all. I love my job. I love my degree. I love my newspaper and goddammit, that newspaper loves to have fun. Smash came out to play, and for once in her life, she justified all that trouble making by working her ass off the entire time. I like growing up more and more everyday.
I met some really cool people in California. Some old and some new. Four of them were friends I already knew back in Chicago, but they were all different in San Diego. I’d like to think California brought the best out in most of us. Maybe it was just the sun. Maybe I’ll feel differently about all of this in a week, but what I know right now is that San Diego felt good. San Diego felt fun and alive.
I’ve read a lot of online content by women ragging on other woman lately, and it’s really pissing me off. We ask to be respected as people and not objects; we ask to be appreciated for our minds rather than our appearances, and yet so many of us aren’t practicing what we preach. Support the cause, ladies. We’re the only ones standing in the way of loving ourselves.
My beautifully redecorated apartment. I told ya this home is my home-home.
Matt Hansen wins at most things, but he especially wins at gift giving.
I had a delayed “Aha!” moment last weekend. I say it was delayed because my mind had to travel back to two weekends ago, the weekend when Blair came to visit us.
I thought back to me gushing my life to B while walking east on Bryn Mawr Avenue. Literally, gushing. I realize that I’m normally a gushy person, but I was gushing about my things, the contents of my life and nobody else’s. This was new. What made it especially new was that I meant every word. Nothing was puffed or previously defined. It was just me and this me was on point.
It’s true. I’m growing up in all the ways I’ve always wanted. I’ve thought similar things before, but this time I felt the moment as I realized it. I felt the moment as my world saw itself in the mirror for the first time. It was a lovely moment brought on by such a simple memory. It was calming in an organic sense, smooth and pleasing.
As I caught up with my steps on the pavement, next came a feeling of relief. Kind of like a little pat on the back for 1) finally walking into this moment and 2) accepting how fun it’s been getting here.
This is the moment that everyone is telling you to wait for when you’re growing up, when you’re a little girl and discover that being a girl can feel awful at times. Everyone’s still swearing this moment exists when that little girl becomes a puberty-stricken teen, a straying young woman and so forth.
You all really knew what you were talking about, didn’t you?
Well, thank you for never letting me forget it, because it happened and you were so right.
I have the best job ever. I’m so happy as an editor with these crazy kids!
This is surprisingly not as ridiculous as it sounds. Or, maybe it is.