Wednesday, January 14, 2009

The Perfect California

Right now I’m in California. At last it feels like it. Sun, breeze, temperature. No beach ocean smell, mind you, but that’s okay. It would be nice really being there. … I never thought I’d say that, not in a million years. It would get boring to me, or so I always thought and certainly not worth the money. Yet here, in my mind, I find myself.

It must be the new white robe draping over me. Plush. Pottery Barn =). Monogrammed. Special gift. The lavender oil. I never did shower it off. I never even cared that there wasn’t a bleachable white towel under me. I didn’t care that I’d have to wash all the sheets today.

Quiet would be good. No TV, laptop set aside. No phone. Not even a book in sight. No escaping into another world. Just experiencing the one I’m in. Yes, just the sun and the breeze and … a view. I’d like a view. A view as far as the eye could see, over the city and to the ocean.

For that matter, I suppose Italy or France could have done. But, not today. Today there’s something about California. Knowing there is hustle and bustle in the midst of my view. Knowing there are people worrying about what they look like, what they’re going to do, who they might run into, how much money they’re going to make or not make. But not me, I am apart and above it all. Today this is where I am.

Windows. Lots of big seamless windows that let the sun flood in, casting cozy, private shadows. Perfect for a cat. Perfect for me. The perfect California.

A feeling of poshness, yes. A feeling of money doesn’t matter but I’ve got it, yes. A feeling of having nothing to do for the day. A feeling of being alone because of choice not because of circumstance.

This is where I am, in my fantasy, quiet and private. The cars rushing by to get from point ‘a’ to point ‘b’ have no clue. The men repaving the neighbor’s front walk have no clue. The joggers and their dogs, have no clue. Neither do the children, they’re in a world of their own. None of them know. None of them see what I see or breath the air that I breathe. It’s all mine. For the next ten minutes, it’s all mine.

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