Thursday, June 25, 2009

Update in Letters

Dear California,

I'm going to be honest because I think that's how relationships grow. I do not trust you. And, to continue along our forthright path here, it seems as though you don't care or wish to change my inherent suspicion.

It's like this - I hear you have a gorgeous coastline. Great! I shall make time to admire it. But then you coat the sucker with fog so I barely notice the ocean is there at all! And while my companions were impressed by the way the fog flowed smoothly up and down the mountains, I was set in my disappointment and in full pouting mode. I wanted ocean. You keep your silly fog.

I also understand you have excellent cuisine. I ended up grabbing a sandwich when you trapped me at an airport waiting for a friend's delayed plane (why do you insist on apples and brie on what would otherwise be a normal turkey sandwich? I suppose it was acceptable but, honestly, I keep shaking my head over your insistence on being different.) but we had tapas that evening with more colleagues. It was fabulous. The fruity sangria and nibbles of yumminess followed by churros which were so wonderful I could have made a deep and lasting commitment to love and cherish them forever and always. After multiple days of hit or miss meals, I went to a different tapas place with other friends and was powerfully disappointed. The churros were charred! Do not char-ro the churros! What is wrong with you?! You have great public transportation in some cities - which is lovely - but then actually using it is wildly inconvenient and time consuming! Do I want to sit and wait for a bus for 20 minutes? No. No, I do not.

You, California, are hot then you are cold. You are yes then you are no. You are in then you are out, up and you're down. (No, you will damn well listen to the song lyrics that you played incessantly when I was trying to drink!) I realize you are full of people who adore you and have many admirers elsewhere. But you may not count me among them. I merely tolerate you.

If, however, you're willing to work on your treatment of me and my feelings, I shall reconsider.


Dear Wine,

Hi! I smile and flutter my eyelashes at you as you wait in pretty bottles and swirl in graceful glasses.

You ease my yearning to leave crowded parties. You taste refreshing with cheese plates (which may or may not come from the happy cows - I never did see any. Freaking California.). I may have a glass of you while shopping and another while staring out the window at the ocean during a moment of unfogginess.

I held my glass out to a friend as she blinked tears away after talking to her parents and curled my fingers around the stem again after she took a sip and turned away. I sighed, returning to curl into a chair and gaze out the window into the sunshine. And somehow the act of sipping and savoring the grapefruit notes helped settle my nervous tummy and soothe my sad feelings.

With great fondness,

Dear Industry,

Please stop asking me to simultaneously focus on travel and continue progress on other projects. It's simply too hard. It makes me so tired.

There was the day where conference calls started at 4AM. By 10PM, when I was socializing with collaborators and customers, I was so exhausted that it hurt. I know problems are important. I understand - believe me - that nobody is backing me up while I'm out of the office. I will work weekends. I'll give you upwards of 12 hours of effort each day. But you must let me rest. Please. I'm begging you.

Kisses and everlasting (if exhausted and irritable) commitment,

Dear Friends,

I am happy you're doing well. It makes me giddy to see you again after long absences and if I hug for a little too long, it's just because I've missed you. I know I ignore you on Facebook - I never log in, honestly. I know it takes me too long to answer email. But I love that you're publishing papers, getting grants, having babies and falling in love. That's truly wonderful.

Taking time to sit - often drinking, sometimes eating - while we caught up was nothing short of lovely. Remembering there are people who can make me laugh until I'm nearly sick, that I can weep with sympathy while being told a sad story, that I can know someone well enough to cuddle close or rest my head on a shoulder when I'm a shade too tipsy - thank you. I'm very glad I know you.

Much love,

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

i love your letters.

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