This weekend was … insane. There was so much going on and so much happy excitement, and going here and there, and blahblahblah that I actually puked from all of the lovely social activity. It really was lovely. I had an excellent time. There was no debauchery, just joy. And yet… barf city. It happens. Sometimes my body just throws in the towel. Kamel called it, “the dark side of my E! True Hollywood Story.” Which made me laugh as I swished my mouth with toothpaste.
But then on Sunday afternoon the world took a minute to slow down, or maybe it actually sped up and then stutter stopped long enough for me to get a good look. Because spring had driven into town with all its colors on. It had arrived and it was blasting tunes and shaking a tamborine. I couldn’t help but notice.
The Bay Area hadn’t got the early spring memo like the rest of the country. Actually, we had gotten the late winter one instead. For weeks now there had been an annoying driving rain. The kind that makes my commute on public transit incredibly inconvenient. But driving through wine country on Sunday, the world was painted in right blues and a green so fresh, so new, it was almost neon.
I kept expecting to see cows and sheep give birth, baby chicks poke through their shell. The end of hibernation and gestation was palpable. Everything was coming alive, petals blew off trees like snow, the rain puddles still lingering from the day before acted as scattered mirrors reflecting the color again and again and again. Everything was alive.
“I want to live here, why don’t we live here!” I kept saying as we passed by every sweet little bungalow, country home, vineyard.
“We could, we could live here. It would just be a bit of a long commute.”
“I want to live here!!!”
“It’s kind of not in our life plan, Lauren. That would be going in another direction completely.”
Sigh. I know. I want to live everywhere. I want to have the house with the porch in wine country, and the apartment on the peninsula, and the house in Seattle where I know all of the school systems and they have real summers. I want to be an ex-pat, I want to travel to all the countries on all the continents. Spring makes me want it all, right this minute. So I don’t miss a thing. Lusty for life. And yet my body’s screaming, “No more! Sleep for the love of god. Get home and watch TV. Zone out. Lay on your bed like a starfish listening to tunes. Stop flinging me here and there.”
So I watched from the car window as it all swam pass, saying, “It’s just SO beautiful.” April first and spring arrived. I’m so happy.