Endings and Beginnings and Ice Cream

3 May


Today is the sort of hot that makes me strip down to the absolute essentials, scoop an extra large bowl of strawberry + mint ice cream, and curl up in a dark corner to practice my bad attitude skills.

I just checked my phone. It’s 84 degrees outside.

Oh my spoiled.

Last night I went to a midnight showing of The Princess Bride, and as I sat in the theater with the eccentrics and the other people who spend their Friday nights cheering for Inigo Montoya I just thought, “LA, you are an effing rock star tonight. Also, what ever happened to the actor who played Westley, this man who makes mustaches appear almost slightly acceptable?”

LA is an effing rock star a lot lately.

Also the man who played Westley did not age nearly as well as Robin Wright, who is an effing Greek goddess.

Also I take back what I said about mustachios.

Also I’m done with the term “effing” for this post.

Sorry, Mother.

I’ve found the more I contemplate leaving LA the more LA is fighting back. She’s saying, “Really? You want to miss out on sunsets at Dodger stadium?” “You’re OK not finishing off LA Magazine’s top 75 restaurants?” “What about that yoga class you’ve committed to? You’re really just going to bail on that?”

The yoga class isn’t really the thing I’m most concerned about here, let’s be honest. But I do have yoga commitments, people, and I needed that in writing.

I would also like in writing that my phone now autocorrects “live” to “love” so all the time I’m sending texts like “I guess I just have to learn to love with it” which is actually rather cute when you think about it. Almost every time “love” works just as well as “live” in a sentence, most of the times it works better.

There’s some sort of a hippy parallel to make there about how love always works better in every circumstance.

I’ll let you make it.

Last week before my last class of my last semester of my last year of school, Hilary and Katie and I found ourselves at Duke’s eating burgers and trying to act normal. It was one of those situations that felt like it should have more importance than it did. This was the end! This was the beginning! We should make grand speeches about how far we’ve come and then sing Vitamin C and really mean it!

We decided maybe we just needed to cry it out, combine the tear ducts of three highly emotional girls, and then we could get on with our lunch and change the world and such.

Katie instantly teared up because she was hungry and she’s a human being. Hilary looked across the ocean forlornly, her green eyes wide open. I went to my crying go-to—dwelling on a past, terrible relationship.

This didn’t go on too long before we started to laugh.

I was dwelling on past, terrible relationships to force myself to cry! Hilary was keeping her eyes open, despite their need to blink!  Katie was hungry!

It was all funny.  It was funny because we were trying to force a moment when we were already having one.  It was funny because our emotions were on edge.  It was funny because of everything and nothing and soon our burgers came and we had a normal lunch and a normal class and it had a normal amount of importance.

I don’t like this ending one bit.  I love my life as a writing student.  I love the friendships I’ve made in LA, the two years I’ve put in to make these real, adult friendships when real, adult friendships can be so hard to come by.  I love Malibu and Duke’s burgers and writing groups, and while I know school finishing is not the end of everything, I do feel this time slipping away from me.

Already, in just a few days, there have been subtle transitions.  My life is shifting, whether I want it to or not.

Also today is so hot.

Today is so, so hot that all I’m eating is ice cream.

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One Response to “Endings and Beginnings and Ice Cream”

  1. jenn from much to my delight May 4, 2014 at 6:54 am #

    I have decided to not look up a current picture of Wesley; I want to remember him as he was in that movie. Your story reminded me of how a few years ago, some friends and i were going to drive to a furniture store in Pennsylvania because we read that the guy who played Jake Ryan in 16 candles was now a craftsman, but decided against it. We’d rather be able to still fantasize about a young man in a foxy sweater vest, leaning against a red sports car. And yes– Robin Wright is still ridiculously gorgeous.

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