Take the long way home.

[La Jolla trees on a misty morning.]

I was taking the trash out—one of the first times I’ve done so since we moved here, as Rob tends to adopt certain tasks while I others—and I saw a sweet little calico kitty rolling around in a spot of sun on the sidewalk. I was just upstairs with a bit of a quivering lower lip (“I’m just overtired,” I chanted. “Just overtired,”) trying to remember what it felt like to live here. When you take a long trip so soon into a move, it shakes familiarity out of you like dust from a bathmat. You know?

It doesn’t help that my trip back was bookended with a head cold and a hangover, 3 hours sleep, and a 5am wakeup to escort Rob to the airport.

[Tourmaline Beach.]

I brought the bag down off my shoulder and set it by my feet, empty wine bottles tinkling against the pavement. “Hello!” I sang over to her. “Be right back!”

The trash bag sailed into the open bin, settling onto a bed of flies that poofed up into the air like vile, downy bits. I mentally marked it off the to-do list, which is single-handedly preserving my sanity today. I weaved through a cobblestone alley and popped out on the other side of the block where the kitty was still somersaulting. I sank down into a squat and extended my hand, anticipating something like Eli’s cautious sniffs, when she barreled head-long into my hand with abandon and did three circles around me. Her tail trailed along my backside as she wound about, the way ladies with parasols run their hands along the tops of hedgerows in slow-motion, sun-saturated shots in period piece dramas. “Oh my, it’s nice to meet you, too,” I laughed, “but I should be going,” scratching her cheek and chin and trying to stand up without appearing as if I hadn’t completely cherished the last minute or so. A few backward glances, a wave, and I made my way back home.

It seems like my head is always somewhere else—where I came from or where I’m going—which often makes it hard for me to be in the moment. And looking back on the last 5 days in California, I noticed exactly how far away my brain was while I registered sights and sounds of the coast. I’d hate to enjoy the photos of it now more than I did seeing it with my own eyes, but that’s fitting. I can only surmise that my brain is probably there now, while I’m trying to grapple with the here and now.

Until you find yourself putting your mind out of mind—if you follow that—and scratching the little head of a cat, bringing all your cells together and there and then… and how.

Enjoy these glimpses of San Diego, and do as I’m doing—hang tight for word from Portland!

[Looking out off of Mt. Soledad toward Miramar, hoping for a glimpse of Maverick or Slider.]

[View from lunch. Simply hideous.]

[Rehearsal din attire + new Anthropologie crown.]

[Wedding attire: Phillip Lim shorts with dubious crotchal creases.]

[Normal, everyday attire.]

[Coronado Beach.]

And, this morning, at around 5:25 am:

I got out of the car and helped RWB with a bag, wheeling it up onto the sidewalk where we paused and looked at each other with brows raised. “OMG,” I said. As in, this is really happening. “OMG,” he replied.

OH, WAIT—as I type, a text from Rob!

Hi!!!! Just landed in Portland!

–Ahh! I just screeched!

Same. Had to not think of you for awhile and just listen to my book. Will call as soon as I get off the aero!

So there we have it. He’s safe and sound. Back to vacuuming every square inch of this joint.

-Carey

[Cut Copy, “Where I’m Going”]