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.
