Because It's Better To Be Irrational With Me Than Rational With Someone Else

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part III: West Coast Trip comes to an end.

I wake up in Long Beach. I wanted to get to 2nd St. but unlike in a logical world where numbered streets are somehow stuck in order, this 2nd St. was at least 20 miles away from the 1st street where the bus let me off. And 1st was right in between 3rd and 7th�

I look at the map and I think, hey, this is within� a walking distance� I can do it, but then I realized half of the road is inaccessible by foot and taxis were a rarity there at this time of the day on this day of the week. So I stumble upon a couple from Seattle who seemed to know more about the place than the locals, and they take me into their convertible and off we go.

They tell me stories. He and She were friends for decades but married to other people. His and Her marriage broke up after roughly 20 years. Then They realized they were always meant for each other, so begun their lives together. Now they created a cover band and travel and tour together. They told me they had a nice huge house that they bought when they decided to live together, but year ago it burned down to the ground. In this misfortune, they found happiness because now they can rebuild the house together, and set it up just as they want it, together.

I listened but didn�t know what to make of it. Was this story, this happenstance, a sign of some sort? Was I supposed to apply it to my life?

The whole day was full of signs that I chose to follow or not to follow.

I went to an amusement park, where I decided I had nothing to lose so I decided to go on a vertical drop ride that drops right into a pool of water, thus attacking both of my fears of water and heights. But when it was my turn to get strapped into the harnesses, the ride was closed down since one of the harnesses was broken.

So was this couple's story, a sign?

They talked about love and forgiveness and finding happiness in unhappiness. I don�t know if I can do that.

I then went to Catalina Island, only to realize that there are only private beaches and I�m not famous enough to step with my inferior feet onto their quality sands. So I rented a golf cart and I drove around until I dumped it at the bottom of the big hill, and climbed to the top of it. I got bored and went back.

Back in Long Beach, I said: F*ck this! I came all this way to see the Pacific, I will freaking touch it even if it kills me. And I did. And IT did. I grazed my foot on something � the perks of free beaches.
Only when the TSA at the airport asked me to remove my shoes did I realize how badly I was hurt. My foot was swimming in a puddle of blood.

Hours later, with a bum and bloody foot and shoes, I wake up in JFK and take a bus back home to Upstate NY.

And I was at ease.

12:42 a.m. - November 22, 2010

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next

latest entry

about me

archives

notes

DiaryLand

random entry

----------
other diaries:

alienamiss
silver4
perplexing
nononename
opposure
cocoabean
star-brite
achmardi
outer-jessie
non-descript
jenniesblog

----------
recent entries:

Test - April 28, 2017
My PhD Made Me Obsolete In Human Language - February 18, 2012
... I revisited the bathroom after I regained the ability to move, and I realized that anything that could've been broken, was; anything that could've been thrown in disarray, was. But my brain could not recollect how I have managed to do such - January 30, 2012
I Might Have Had a Slight Lapse in Judgement - January 29, 2012
A moment for reflection: - January 01, 2012
Site Meter