The Santa Anas

The Santa Anas came in last night.

Generally, I am not a fan of the Santa Anas, despite their most excellent name. In 2007, they blew through with a vengeance, knocking down trees at my old complex, squashing cars, generally destroying the pool and hot tub (I have pictures)...and let's not forget the eerie howling and banging of screens that comes with them.

I developed something of a fondness for them, though, since that movie The Holiday when Jack Black's character says "When the Santa Anas come through...anything can happen." Even White Oleander referenced them.

Changes are afoot at work and in life. Maybe it's fitting.

The Contractor did get back to me. There were no messages of rage or hatred or ridicule, which...well, he doesn't have that sort of personality, anyway, but I worried. I did go to bed feeling lighter, knowing I had, at last, said something.

He said he missed me too. And pointed out that what happened was...well, that's the state we were in.

That isn't going to stop me from kicking myself over it. We will talk after he gets back from his trip. There is a part of me that desperately wants to have this conversation now and get it over with, but perhaps patience is virtue. I have a lot to get done, and if we start hanging out routinely again, even as friends, I will have less time to do it in. I have a book to pitch, NaNoWriMo to finish, part-time work to build up some savings since I am betting I am gonna be gone from this place by mid-December.

There is only so much one can say in a text message, though. They are best for short clips of information, not full-on conversation. The rest must wait.

Whatever "the rest" is. I still haven't yet decided. I miss him. A lot.

My chicken didn't turn out too well tonight. Not happy about that. Did have a nice day at work and completed my freelancing for the day. I finally brought a laptop into the bedroom, and I'm sitting here blogging while the Differin settles into my skin.

In the meantime, I've decided to start a new project for this blog, so I'll have something to write about (and thus encourage myself to write): The Book of Questions Project.

The Book of Questions is something I dug out of the garage a long time ago; every now and then it surfaces amidst my pile of belongings. So I'm going to start from the top and work my way through, and see what I discover about myself.