Two days home. We’re all still exhausted and not quite past the fear. Each summer of my marriage I’ve had the sea breeze vs. land breeze conversation in Avalon, always occasioned by the biting flies. Except for last summer, our first beach miss ever.
Today an old friend contacted me, saying that recent life changes made him want to move from L.A. to the East Coast where he could join the people he felt closest to, but our Polar Vortex was dampening the inclination, killing the impetus. Tomorrow another L.A. friend is meeting me at the Liberty Bell, which should be gay and special. She’s a New Yorker originally, but moved west with our former company a long time ago. The weather doesn’t retard or frighten her. At this point it terrifies me. I would like to move to Turks and Caicos yesterday. It’s a terrific place.