to the new year, that book that i never wrote, and all that you will bring
So, how did the year go? I saw more sunrises than I’ve probably seen collectively in a decade. We were falling asleep by 9 p.m. and waking up in the dark hours of the early morning, when the clouds still hung low in the sky. We were catching flights, surviving windy, narrow, island mountain drives for a chance to exist above the clouds. At 10,000 feet, the trees grow taller.
Montreal is cold in March. The snow covered cobbled streets of the main city bore resemblance to Europe. That place where we came to know one another, came to know ourselves better.
We were falling asleep in yurts in the northern California mountains, where there was zero cell reception for 60 miles, and the only spotty wi-fi signal we could get was in the communal bathroom. We fell asleep under the stars. We didn’t need any drugs for this kind of high. We drove 600 miles down the Pacific Coast Highway through Monterey, Santa Barbara, Los Angeles, to San Diego. It may be forever one of my favorite drives.
Blurry nights at Omnia with some of my favorite humans, wondering why it’s always so hard to order late night pizza in Pacific Beach. No matter how many years that will pass, you will always take my breath away.
I’d never been to South America before. The air in Cartagena is so hot and humid that you’re perpetually sweaty. Something I don’t quit mind. The sight of the sun setting, the way the light hits the Cathedral of Saint Catherine of Alexandria, and the juxtaposition between life inside the walled city and life elsewhere.
Ever since Laguna Beach, we'd say, one of these days guys, we’ll get to Cabo. I guess, if you stay together long enough, anything can be realized. Of all the constants, that are no longer, I’m thankful for these girls and daylong lounging on rooftop pools overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
I didn’t love Paris the first time we met. I haven’t been back, but I think sometimes, at different points in your life, things, people, cities, will fit differently. On second chance, Miami fit better. As did the Texas sky.
I still think about the ceviche and the sanguche de chicharron. The latter being fried pork shoulder stuffed in a French roll with onions seeped in lime juice and slices of sweet potato crisps. It’s all I think about when I think of Peru. And that time I climbed the Andes, and didn’t even realize it until the next day when we were in a museum reading about Machu Picchu. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. The train ride from Cusco to Aguas Calientes, which by the way, reminds me of so much of parts of Europe, is perhaps, the most breathtaking thing. And from the top of Montanya Machu Picchu, there it was, a civilization tucked into the middle of nowhere.
So, how else did 2016 turn out? Some things wouldn’t be mended, and there would never be any answers. I learned that, if I kept moving, even if I had no idea where I was going, that the pieces would eventually fall in the right places, that good things would happen. At thirty-two, I’m starting to really worry about wrinkles.
Why are you working here? I’ve been asked that question so many times over the last few years. When I was working as a hostess, and now as a bartender. People can’t seem to understand why. Some people even feel sorry for you. It’s these reactions that perpetuate shame in certain people over working certain jobs. I don’t think that anyone is ever too good for any job, no matter where they came from.
On a note for you. When my parents die, or any other close family member of mine. I would appreciate it if you came to the funeral. Please don’t expect me to invite you. That will not be one of those times. Please be there, even if you have no idea how. I will appreciate it.
He was moving for love. Only now am I realizing, the beauty of your late twenties was that some things were a constant. Even when you’re wandering around those irresponsibly lost years, not knowing what you were going to do with your life, all of your friends were also lost. So, no matter how much disappointment you felt in your life, how much things weren’t turning out how you had expected, there was still this ever constant – everyone else was also trying to figure their shit out. There was a comfort in that. Well, in your thirties, people stop being so lost, and they start finding ground in things, in people. And suddenly, those constants, aren’t constants anymore.
I was sitting in my car a few weeks ago, and I suddenly realized that this moment in my life was a series finale. You know, that sitcom about twenty-somethings, hanging out until the sun rose, over 4 a.m. pizzas, waking up on each other’s couches, regretting everything and nothing. These days it feels like there’s a sense of permanence in all the change.
Here’s a toast to 2017. That book I never wrote. And all that you will bring.