Time keeps on slipping into the future

I've had a burning desire to write all day, but nothing in particular to write about. I've turned on my computer probably 10 times, only to find an empty inbox and little inspiration for a post.

Laura's party on Friday night was fun. We went to Lucky Strikes, where I bowled two rounds of straight 0's before moving in for a strike. Then I went back to 0's. Last night I went out with another friend and ended up at a costume party, sans costume. It was fun, but I have been told I am a curmudgeon when it comes to Halloween. I only have an idea of what that means, but I'm pretty sure it's not good.

I woke up around 8:00 AM this morning, but of course it was really 9:00 in my head, given the change for Daylight Savings. Excited to take advantage of the extra hour of morning, I made a pot of coffee and settled in for a marathon session of the new Real World/Road Rules challenge. For three of the four episodes I thought to myself what crap TV this was and at what point will I maybe get over the lives of these ridiculous people. But then there was the one episode in which Diem kind of freaked out about taking her wig off for the first time since she lost her hair from chemo and then Robin kindly suggested that they all wear swim caps for the challenge so Diem wouldn't feel weird, and I might have cried just a little bit. A little bit too much for a sunny Sunday morning in which I have been given the gift of time and yet another beautiful day to enjoy it.

The extra hour today was supposed to help me catch up on activities much needed to get my life in order: laundry, cleaning, vacuuming, wardrobe upgrading. I did none of those things, although I did manage to make a dent in my magazine reading. And I got a pedicure. As I walked to the nail place around 1:00, I noticed the change in light, that fall was really here.

When I lived on the east coast, back when LA was nothing but a What if..., I used to think that I would miss New England foliage, miss the change of seasons. What I didn't know then was that LA has just as much foliage and quite a distinct change of season; simply without the biting cold or bitter gray the puritan Northeast throws out in exchange for its Rockwell beauty. Here, the leaves change color and form bright piles on the neighbors' lawns, shadows fall down in blues and purples as light springs up in shades of pink and gold, and the difference in temperature between the sun and shadows is palpable enough to notice even midday. But the air is generally warm and the sky is starkly blue and the changes, while subtle, are more complex. It's nice to be able to enjoy them without the dreaded threat of winter looming ahead.

This time last week I was walking in the door from my trip to San Diego. Seven days later, my suitcase still lays open and half-unpacked in the middle of the living room where I left it. I'd say that's a pretty apt metaphor for my brain this weekend: even though I keep tripping over it, I just can't be bothered to deal with it.