Sunday, October 17, 2004
west valley ghosts...
I took Friday off because I had several things to accomplish. All of which I managed to do, with the aid of my trusty rental car. I picked it up at 9am, shopped at a nearby Target for all the heavy kitty stuff I needed, then headed over to the west side of the San Fernando Valley.
I had to pick up a bunch of legal paperwork for my mom, since her divorce lawyer left the legal profession and dropped it all off at a lawyer who was frankly useless and wouldn't even mail the paperwork to her, citing it as too heavy to mail. As I told him when I showed up, I mail 20-30 pound packages on a regular basis, so nothing is too heavy to mail. The truth is he didn't want to spend the money to mail it. But since the thought of trusting the paperwork to the USPS left me uneasy, I decided to pick it up. I'll have copies made so that we don't have to rely on the courts if a needed piece of paper goes missing. I'm very anal about that sort of thing.
So there I was Friday, tooling around the western San Fernando Valley, and once again I was assailed by ghosts. I've been on my eastern end of the Valley for so long that I've gotten used to the spectors of events past, so when I journey to the opposite end of the Valley I always forget how many of my ghosts live there.
First of all, I knew I was pretty close to CuteNerdBoy's place. The lawyer's office is probably within a mile or two of CuteNerdBoy's apartment, which I didn't realize until I Mapquest'd the lawyer's address. This pulled me up short, and while there I felt his presence rather strongly. Indeed, it was only through strength of my usually faultering will that I didn't go looking for his building.
As I drove up Topanga Canyon Blvd. I passed what used to be the theater where I went on my first date and where I saw Rocky Horror Picture Show multiple times with my second boyfriend. I also knew that the gentleman with whom I had that first date worked in the area, since he re-established contact last week we've exchanged a few e-mails.
(Looks like we're gonna keep this friendship deal going. Yea! Of course, that means I'm currently working on an appropriate nickname. After changing GrüvLoungeGoth's nickname a few times, I want to make sure this new/not-too-new person has just the right nickname.)
Once upon a time in the late 80s I had lived very near the area for a few months, a disastrous time with three male roommates, only one of whom was any good as a roommate. And in the parking lot of the shopping center where I chose to have an early lunch on Friday was where the Ex and I shared our first kiss.
Why I'm so susceptible to those ghosts I really can't say. Why I so often feel their presence is beyond me. This is a wistful week for me (and really, what week isn't), and I daresay I feel everything rather keenly right now. And my conflicted feelings of "Want to/don't want to run into CuteNerdBoy" certainly didn't help matters.
I don't know if I'll ever be able to conquer my ghosts. I wouldn't know where to start.
I had to pick up a bunch of legal paperwork for my mom, since her divorce lawyer left the legal profession and dropped it all off at a lawyer who was frankly useless and wouldn't even mail the paperwork to her, citing it as too heavy to mail. As I told him when I showed up, I mail 20-30 pound packages on a regular basis, so nothing is too heavy to mail. The truth is he didn't want to spend the money to mail it. But since the thought of trusting the paperwork to the USPS left me uneasy, I decided to pick it up. I'll have copies made so that we don't have to rely on the courts if a needed piece of paper goes missing. I'm very anal about that sort of thing.
So there I was Friday, tooling around the western San Fernando Valley, and once again I was assailed by ghosts. I've been on my eastern end of the Valley for so long that I've gotten used to the spectors of events past, so when I journey to the opposite end of the Valley I always forget how many of my ghosts live there.
First of all, I knew I was pretty close to CuteNerdBoy's place. The lawyer's office is probably within a mile or two of CuteNerdBoy's apartment, which I didn't realize until I Mapquest'd the lawyer's address. This pulled me up short, and while there I felt his presence rather strongly. Indeed, it was only through strength of my usually faultering will that I didn't go looking for his building.
As I drove up Topanga Canyon Blvd. I passed what used to be the theater where I went on my first date and where I saw Rocky Horror Picture Show multiple times with my second boyfriend. I also knew that the gentleman with whom I had that first date worked in the area, since he re-established contact last week we've exchanged a few e-mails.
(Looks like we're gonna keep this friendship deal going. Yea! Of course, that means I'm currently working on an appropriate nickname. After changing GrüvLoungeGoth's nickname a few times, I want to make sure this new/not-too-new person has just the right nickname.)
Once upon a time in the late 80s I had lived very near the area for a few months, a disastrous time with three male roommates, only one of whom was any good as a roommate. And in the parking lot of the shopping center where I chose to have an early lunch on Friday was where the Ex and I shared our first kiss.
Why I'm so susceptible to those ghosts I really can't say. Why I so often feel their presence is beyond me. This is a wistful week for me (and really, what week isn't), and I daresay I feel everything rather keenly right now. And my conflicted feelings of "Want to/don't want to run into CuteNerdBoy" certainly didn't help matters.
I don't know if I'll ever be able to conquer my ghosts. I wouldn't know where to start.
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