First day of school

“It will be interesting to see who is in my writing class,” I muse. “Last time I had a sex addict, a news anchor, a guy who waxed on about pornography. I had a rebellious 18-year old, who got grounded by her parents every other week. I had a doctor.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” she says. “All writers are a bit screwy.”

“Yup.”

She just stares at me.

it's tuesday

I fell asleep last night, laughing at the memories from this past weekend.

remember your soul is the one thing
you can't compromise
step out of the shadow
we're gonna go where we can shine
we're gonna go where we can shine
we're gonna go where we can shine

- David Gray

Where did the summer go?

Autumn is ever so subtle here in Los Angeles but now in the mornings when I wake it’s ink black outside, aside from the street lights sprinkled throughout Brentwood like stars, the stars themselves and the warm yellow glow, across the way, of a neighbor’s light on.

And in the morning when I go up and down those stairs in Santa Monica (up and down, up and down, up and down), the ocean fog lingers around and dips within the canyons.

And when I drive to work, a handful more shadows line the streets. The slightest of changes from the sunshine-white light of summer, but noticed nonetheless.

I’m in the mood for butternut squash soup, turkey and jackets. For boots and sweatshirts and hot steamy cups of tea. For crunchy vibrant red leaves and socks. I want cold air on my walks, holiday lights and the spirit of giving and love. The empowerment of renewal that fall brings.