i followed the trail of taillights around the windy road, a path i travel twice a day, when the sun rises and sets again. when i moved here four months ago, i got lost along the same road, thrice. one of those times i was near the point of tears. i couldn’t find my street, but i found the beach. it was so dark i thought i’d drive right off a cliff and into the ocean.<\/p>\n
now i know how to get around. i know that if the cars are stopped at the bottom of the hill to make a quick u-turn and go the other way, otherwise it will take me 45 minutes just to get to the freeway. i know that if i’m going to leave early the next morning to park on the street and to get into the complex through the secret side gate. i know jenny will still pour me a cup of coffee when i realize i have no cash and the village dry cleaner owners won’t charge me extra for packages because i ask them how their grandchildren are. i learned these things. i know.<\/p>\n
but tonight was the last night i’d drive that path, and monday i take a new route to work.<\/p>\n
new new new, everything is new again. it’s exciting and exhausting all the same.<\/p>\n
“if you are moving,” david asked, “are you really (I mean really REALLY) going to want to move again (to NYC) in a year? because moving is a big hassle, right?”<\/p>\n
maybe.<\/p>\n
maybe not.<\/p>\n
yesterday i got nostalgic for the way things were. before i moved to LA, before i discovered the web, before all of this was in my vocabulary. i wanted to be lying on the white shag rug on my bedroom floor, thumbing through sassy,<\/i> imagining my name was on the masthead, pointing out everything i’d do differently.<\/p>\n
dreams are lovelier when they are floating so high in the clouds you can barely recognize them. when they start to float down to your level — or you begin to rise up to theirs — you can actually see how complex and complicated they really are. and time. time starts chasing you while you keep chasing your dream.<\/p>\n
how do you know when to pause and take a deep breath?<\/p>\n
i just want you to know that i haven’t stopped dreaming. i told you i’d meet you there. at the top of the empire state building when the sun is setting and the street lights are starting to glow. i promised you. i promised me. i know i’m a little late, but i’ll be there. just in time to dance with you under the moon.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
i followed the trail of taillights around the windy road, a path i travel twice a day, when the sun rises and sets again. when i moved here four months ago, i got lost along the same road, thrice. one of those times i was near the point of tears. i couldn’t find my street, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[3],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/maganda.org\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/maganda.org\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/maganda.org\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/maganda.org\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/maganda.org\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=16"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/maganda.org\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/maganda.org\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=16"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/maganda.org\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=16"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/maganda.org\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=16"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}