abigail414's diaryland diary
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A Theory of Relativity
'As we were talking about on the train, tomorrow never comes, it's all just the same long day'. Janis Joplin
Last month when I visited mom, I also visited my old stomping grounds - Laguna Beach. It is odd to have places where you grew up become TV shows. This further fuels a southern California phenomenon of comparing your life to a show (like I sometimes think I am in a scene from the Twilight Zone, or This Is Your Life).
I spent a couple hours on a grassy hill in the shade overlooking the beach. As a kid, I used to wonder why people went to the beach and then sat on the grass in the shade - now I know. At my age, the sun is no longer my friend - I thank cloudy Michigan for helping me stay younger-looking. Plus, I had my dogs and they aren't allowed on the beach. I got what I wanted - just hearing the sounds of the waves and the birds, seeing the vista, and smelling the smells sent me back in time 30+ years when I would drive there in my '68 Chevy Camaro listening to Boz Scaggs or The Who with my friend Linda and we'd explore the tidepools and lie on the beach and try to look thin (which we were, but didn't know it). We'd also go wandering downtown looking at art or guys, grab a hotdog, and daydream of when we graduated from high school and could live down there in a little house with too many cats. (It seemed really expensive then - and is even more expensive now).
While lost in my reverie, this woman walked by.
She is a long-time Laguna resident and did our 'dream' to a certain degree. She would have been happy to tell me her life story and the many careers culminating in full-time dog-walking, but she had that kind of weird urgency that caused me to eventually drift into hearing the waves again. Like me, she spends more time with animals than people and was glad for an audience.
Last week I went to Los Angeles for a veterinary business meeting, and it was deja vu all over again. The meeting was at a hotel by the L.A. airport, and a rush of memories came back - like riding in the backseat while on the 405 and dad would try to time the car so a landing plane would fly directly overhead, or visiting relatives who lived in Inglewood, Ladera Heights, or where dad worked in nearby El Segundo (all are now in 'the hood'). When I�m there, I feel �home�, but then I look around and say 'home? why would anyone live here??' But a LOT of people do (and yes, the traffic is absolutely horrendous).
The meeting hotel had an over-the-top stylist. The photo below is not distorted - these are tea containers, with crooked glasses in the background � I was sleep deprived, but everything did indeed look a little like Alice In Wonderland.
This was dessert. We all enjoyed that the decorative flourishes were bigger than the food - one of the attendees accidentally ate an inedible prop - but in truth, the food was delicious.
The other night I watched �Justice�, a new Fox series on TV. It is about a Los Angeles legal team, and they were trying a case in Orange County. Having lived in both places, it was interesting how LA and 'the OC' slam each other, always have. I laughed out loud when the LA attorney told the defendent he better �man up, this is Orange County � after all, they named their airport after John Wayne�. So true.
It is oddly comforting to see places from the past and realize I do have one. I've had a way of cutting things off as if they are 'done' - and yet life is really one big continuum. And, if the sages are true, we aren't that seperate from each other (even though it feels like we are and can have hours of entertainment watching each other). It only takes a moment to feel like the same sunburned teenager I once was, or connected to people in a place that I used to call home.
8:31 p.m. - 2006-09-18
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