There is no end to the gorgeous days here in Napa Valley. Every day more leaves fall from the trees, and more rye grass sprouts from beneath, and Pierce’s disease turns the vines a burnt, glorious orange-red even as it robs them of life-giving water. I turn corners and see deer, skunk, pheasants (I think), and jackrabbits. Here, beauty does not fade with the seasons; it gracefully adorns a new wardrobe.<\/p>\n
I think the salad days might be over. I’ve managed to lose two friendships by doing exactly nothing wrong, or at the very least, nothing that should have been wrong. I wrote that I wanted to be surprised by a man, and I have, time and again but only by the ones related to me. I am tired of it. I’ve called these men out, confronted their fears, asked them to be straightforward and kind, made light of our situations, and yet… and yet, in the end, I lose. Why? I want to sit down my latest loss and say, “What exactly are you afraid of? What exactly bothers you?” But I know that he, like too many others, simply cannot be a stand-up guy. He won’t even return a phone call.<\/p>\n
And so, because I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing here, because I long for my companions, because I want to be part of this world I take myself out for a dinner I can’t afford (particularly after dumping $600 on credit card bills- more moving expenses? I thought it was all on my last statement, blissfully paid off!) and immerse myself in yet another novel. My stepmom expressed concern that I’m going back to New York too soon, that perhaps I’ll find it appealing and want to stay. What can I say? New York is appealing, certainly, it’s my favorite city on earth. But I will not go back to work in a restaurant. I will not go anywhere to do a stupid subsistence job. But I will go anywhere that holds opportunity. I will do everything in my power to create that opportunity here, but right now I can barely look to tomorrow let alone six months from now. As my mom always says, I’m dancing as fast as I can.<\/p>\n
I’m still stuck with me, obviously, and I need to not only make myself okay, but make myself okay with where I am, and somehow that’s always been hard.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
There is no end to the gorgeous days here in Napa Valley. Every day more leaves fall from the trees, and more rye grass sprouts from beneath, and Pierce’s disease turns the vines a burnt, glorious orange-red even as it robs them of life-giving water. I turn corners and see deer, skunk, pheasants (I think), […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-310","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mlwms.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/310","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mlwms.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mlwms.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mlwms.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mlwms.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=310"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/mlwms.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/310\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mlwms.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=310"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mlwms.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=310"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mlwms.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=310"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}