ok, so i know i promised you a super sleuth story. but, after a big huge date night like meal (cheese, wine, salad, wine, butternut squash linguine, wine, and some chocolate thing in a coffee cup that was like half cooked brownie mix, ie:heaven) i am in a food coma, which is affecting my patience for my own stories. alas,  my friends, the crime scene murder mystery will have to wait. ok, you’re right. not murder.

so, this ‘feeling’ thing i guess gets you somewhere. like, through things. embracing them has apparently made me move forward. not on, because well, that suggests like, getting over. and this is something (and i wrote someone just then, and had to correct. total freudian slip) i don’t want to get over. 

so yea, i’ve moved forward. and it is what it is. but this time, in a ‘i’m not putting up a wall’ it is what it is, ignoring feelings as a way to avoid disappointment, or heartbreak. but a different kind of is what it is. like a ‘it is what it is,’ forgot i wasn’t thinking about it way. like it pleasantly, and nondescriptly dropped off my list of things to remember to think about. and that was, nice. well, i didn’t even realize it really.

until this morning. when i got out of the shower, at 6:22 am, and *f*l*a*s*h* you were there. in my head. like, why? just there. in the front of my brain. and then i realize that 14 minutes earlier i awoke from one of those completely and utterly real dreams that later, when you remember it, you can’t remember right away if that memory was because it happened, or because you dreamed it.

and i sighed, embraced it, and kept going, kept moving. and proceeded to have a totally, outrageously busy day at work. meeting with my boss’ boss, employee year end performance reviews, 45 minutes total of non meeting time in ten hours, plus ninety five “must do today”s on my list kind of day. an life went on.

until in a double whamie kind of way jason schwartzman began singing to me on the burnt orange sunset drive home through berkeley while staring across the bay at my city. he sang, “for a second there i thought you disappeared. it rains a lot this time of year… and miss you, i’m going back home to the west coast. i wish you would have put yourself in my suitcase.”

and i forgot again, if you were right there, in the front of my brain, all over again because it happened, or it was a dream.

i felt, and therefore learned, two things today: the west coast is home. and it was a dream.

going back home to the west coast…

west coast- coconut records.