Present Tense: California Dreaming

California is like a fairy land to me. The state sparkles with natural beauty, with dreams, with promises that I will, after all, have a real (and good) future. It is a place where I can feel childhood joy in my adult present--and that's okay. It's encouraged, even.

While I was there, I squished dark purple grapes between my toes in a wooden barrel (just like I saw Lucy do on TV fifteen years ago when I watched the re-runs with my grandmother). I (re)learned how to ride a bike, with a best friend by side, cheering me on. I inhaled french fries and exhaled cheers at a baseball game. I climbed a tree in a white skirt and didn't think about getting it dirty. I splashed through the ocean and jumped off of rocks and secretly loved that my feet and legs got completely filthy in the process. I stared into the stars awestruck and tried to figure out the constellations. I cuddled with stuffed rhinoceroses. I laughed at nothing, and everything. I pressed my face against a train window, watching, in wonder, as the scenery soared by. I thought up tricks for remembering the capitals of Iowa, South Dakota, and Arkansas (and passed them along to my cousin Olivia.) I gazed, mesmerized, at all the details of a fifth-grade classroom. I hollered at a TV screen when my video-game character didn't perform well and listened while my cousins Banks and Olivia instructed me on the tricks and skills necessary for victory. I felt my heart race as I climbed fifteen feet high in the air in order to reach a tree-house. I shared a picnic on the beach with an aunt who seems magical. I cried when it was time to go home.

Thank you Caroline, Mr. and Mrs. Savello, Anna, Chris, Rose, Dave, Banks, and Olivia for making my trip so extraordinary. I love you all so much. And I cannot wait until I am in your beautiful state more permanently!

Pictures!