And I'm even working on writing a feature film (on spec), under the guidance of Daniel, the TV writer I liked so much. We videochat and we IM and I read and watch a ton of movies and it's a big step.
Life is settling into feeling like a life. And I know which way is north.
"I kind of miss winter," Mark said to me this morning while we sat in our sunny, high-ceilinged white living room, on the white leather sofa, finishing breakfast.
"What? Already?" I said. The words 'I miss' have started creeping into our conversations, here and there. But winter?
"Well, if not winter, the winter aesthetic, you know?" he said, spearing another bite of fresh pineapple. "Like the wood paneling and the brick. That 70's insulated feel."
"Yeah. I don't miss that, yet," I said, arranging watermelon and plum on my fork. "I miss the lake, though."
The Lake. The Lake The Lake! A quick bike ride and you're on the little span of sand at Fullerton, people-watching, sun bathing, water sipping, pale people, fat people, tan people, thin people, a blur of color, walking, jogging, biking by, 40 feet away.
Mark took off for work, and I sat thinking about water and sun.
We're 16 miles from the beach, here, and the beach here is The Ocean. It's big and wide and salty. And there's this thing called beach tar. You walk the two or three hundred feet of sand to the water, and when you leave you have mysterious black tar on the bottoms of your feetsies, sticky salt on your skin and in your hair.
And woe to you if you don't wear sunscreen! This is no Northern Sun! This sun is Southern California skin-scorching serious!
Not that I've made it to the beach yet this summer -- there's no train to the coast, just an interminable bus.
Aw, it's not so bad. Sour grapes. I hauled myself up from our white sofa, made myself presentable, and biked the half block to the Mexican market. I picked out a banana and an apple and a peach and went to the counter, where I also plucked up a locally made coconut pastry of some kind.
"Hey, beautiful lady," our friend the owner said, as he rang up my purchases. I'd put on makeup and a fancy necklace. I've started doing that again, lately, the makeup thing. Now that I'm not so distracted by just getting from A to B, figuring out which way is up, I have energy for light blue eyeshadow.
I smiled at him, said thank you, bought my fruit, and hopped on my bike for the park. I rode around the path encircling the reservoir, and found a lovely spot on a slope in the shade of a big old palm tree, where I sat reading quite happily for two and a half hours.And tomorrow I learn how to golf with my new friend Danny, and the next day I go for a hike in Griffith Park (where the Hollywood sign is) with my new friend Amy, and next week I go to the beach with my new friend Hanna. There are a lot of new friends around. Maybe someday I'll get to take a few of them to The Point.
