The line from this song is sticky. It stays in my head for hours.
I’m still not sure if I wanted my life to take this turn.
It’s turning anyways.
At night when I’m tired, things feel gray. It’s a bad time to try making sense of reality. Soon I will be leaving my home and my city and my family and my friends. But we love so many people here. How is this happening? Why is this happening?
Why am I looking forward to leaving my four bedroom Victorian–with its views and sprawling yard and trees that are like old friends and a turret in which I birthed my daughter–in exchange for a small city apartment in San Francisco? How will I breathe without all of this space? How is it possible that a change can both thrill and terrify me?
All my life I’ve known and loved California. As a child I thought everyone in Seattle came from California, like my parents and their closest friends did.
I used to watch Sesame Street and wish to live in the city like that. With people everywhere and life unfolding quickly.
As a teenager I visited the University of San Francisco because apparently they wanted me enough to offer a merit-based scholarship.
I like wearing flowers in my hair.
So maybe this city has been calling me for my entire life. I don’t know.
But I’d like to think so.
with my favorite tree & flowers in my hair