Back in November, the week of Thanksgiving break (actually, the night before Thanksgiving day), I found myself stranded at 12:35am with fifty other people and steady rain in a parking lot in downtown Los Angeles. Usually, I fly back to the Bay Area from my school in San Diego– if I book my tickets sufficiently in advance, the costs are worth the visit back home; however, this time, I didn’t book my flight tickets early enough. Seat availability plummeted, prices skyrocketed, and I decided that taking the budget-friendly bus would be a good alternative.
I didn’t sleep more than an hour that night. We ended up left in that parking lot for reasons I’m to this day unsure of– the bus driver had stopped, told us all to vacate the bus because we were supposed to transfer, and promptly drove off as soon as the last person had removed their bag from the under-bus storage. Needless to say, there was no transfer.
We were in that parking lot for about an hour and a half until the company sent a replacement bus to pick us up. I tried to doze off again on this bus, but the frigid air blowing through the vents kept my mind active even though my body was craving rest. We made it to San Francisco by seven thirty in the morning, and I reached my home by eight. Continue reading
I will miss this, I really will.
Sitting outside on my deck writing, laptop warm against my thighs and notebook pressing into the crook of my elbow. My dog sits near me, chewing on a leaf or something (as he does) as a gentle breeze, barely able to even be called a breeze, touches my shoulder and the tips of the trees’ leaves. I can hear the crickets starting to chirp through my headphones– there’s was a heat stroke in the Bay Area this weekend and the last of it seems to be ebbing away now. The fog is finally starting to roll back in over the mountains to cool down the air, saving my breath.
What happens when your English teacher tells you to take out a pen and a piece of paper and write continuously for five minutes straight with absolutely no explanation of what to write about. Continue reading
There was a heat spell like no other that summer, and it left everyone to forget the way it felt to wear jackets and catch a breath of crisp, cold air in the middle of the afternoon. Continue reading
From the minute I set foot outside, my eyes are blinded by the harsh glare of the sun. I have no choice but to squint as I stagger forward, though I am able to fully open my eyes once more after they adjust. Continue reading