Hot damn, it's cold. Bitterly cold. Colder-than-a-stepmother's-breast cold. And it's windy, too--there's a wind roaring through the palm trees and through the eaves and down the heating vent. I didn't imagine that California would be like this--not that I am complaining. It's hard to be disappointed in a place when it's cold and windy outside but cozy inside, and one is tucked up in bed, with a kitty curled up beside them, and a laptop for company. It's a good life.
Today I had to drive out to Redlands for a couple of errands, and on the way out, I passed by a HUGE tumbleweed by the side of the freeway. Not just any tumbleweed, mind you, but a weird-ass tumbleweed that was all big and poofy like a bad 80s hair-do, and that had all sorts of trash and debris and tire-tread caught up in it. It was a bizarre, yet perfectly fitting, natural collage that represented California quite beautifully.
I didn't expect to like it out here as much as I do. How much of that has to do with my friends and Arash, my super cheap rent and ideal living situation, I don't know--but I do know that I am one lucky girl.
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