Cali

 The girl in the room in San Francisco:

 

The window to my hotel room is open. The perfect breeze blows in from the bay. The sound of the trolley bell dings as it goes by…ding…ding…ding. A jazz saxophonist plays his heart out on the street corner below. These are the sounds I hear on this perfect night in October. The view is not as pretty. The view is a small space between the walls of this tiny hotel. They make the shape of a triangle. I could practically reach out and touch someone, if they stuck their hand out their own window as well. If you look out of the open-ended triangle you’d see across the street, another building. The windows are open as well. People live in them. I can see straight into their apartment from here in the daytime. At night I just see lights. 2 people have yellow lights on. And two others have red curtains. The light shining through them make it look so colorful and happy. One room at the bottom corner has a bluish tint to it. I love the sounds more than the sights. It’s all dirty below, I can’t even look down that far to see. I might fall or my glasses will fall. There’s no screen on the window. No air conditioner, hence the windows that open. They don’t open all the way, but a thin body could fit through if squeezed. The paint is peeling from the side of the hotel. There’s a ledge that looks to be falling apart as well, that connects my side of the building to my neighbors. I’m in 611. Whoever is in 609 is the room catty-corner to me.

I imagine there’s a single girl in there. Like me. She came to the city to get away from her job and her life of loneliness. To take in the sights of a new city. To escape into a new world, one where anything could happen. One where when she walks down the crowded street below, she doesn’t feel so alone. I wave hi to her. She waves hi back. We both smile at each other before closing our drapes and go to bed...

It's crazy how you can have the most perfect setting, one that could've come from the pages of a book or a scene in the movie, yet unlike in both those places, nothing happened in mine. Because the real world isn't a book or a movie. We are tricked into thinking they could be, because they say "based on a true story," but in reality you have to remember it's "based;" it's not exact. The writers made it more exciting, real life isn't as exciting. Well, at least not for me. That first paragraph was 100% true. That setting was PERFECT. Like I said, straight out of a book. From the lights to the sounds, to the adjacent window. It was so magical. But apparently I live in a world where magic doesn't exist and nothing good ever happens to me. The second chapter was just the beginning of a story I started. One where there was a girl in that window and we did talk and...more... but I'm not sharing all that here. It's just for me. Gotta have something just for me. My time in San Francisco was ok. It was fine. It was good. It wasn't magical, I didn't connect with anyone. Even when I tried to talk to someone, I discovered they didn't speak English. Getting a picture taken, was through pantomime. I swear no one around me ever spoke English, it was the weirdest thing. I heard Russian and French, Italian and other languages I don't know what they were. I would try to talk to them, thinking they were American, but discovered they weren't, and they couldn't respond. And that's fine, I'm not saying that's bad, I'm just saying it was a bit of a bummer. It would've been cool to make a new friend. But those days are behind me, I guess. This isn't college. No one is looking for friends anymore. Everyone is too busy raising their children and desperately fighting to keep their relationship with their significant other alive and well. No one has any more time or energy for anyone else. I wouldn't, if I had that. I get it. I don't hold it against them. That's how it should be. Raising a child in this world as it is now takes everything you got. Keeping a marriage strong with all the temptations that are right at your fingertips, takes every ounce of energy and effort possible. Without those people in your life though, it all seems kind of pointless. Maybe that's putting too much on those particular people in one's life. You definitely need your own life and I do have that, it's all I have. I would definitely go hide away one Sunday every so often and just write and tell my family, 'sorry, fend for yourselves today, I'm doing me.' Everyone needs that. I would give that to my significant other. I'd tell her- go! Be with the wolves! Or wherever you want to go. I'll stay with the kids, or kid, or dogs... whatever we have. If you make your life only about those other people closest to you, then A) they are going to let you down and you are going to feel like the world has ended, or B) you're gonna burn out from overexposure to their needy little asses.

But anyway, like always, I diverge into the lonely existence of the single white female. It's not important. Nothing is. But my godchildren are. They're important. I got to spend precious time with them on the first half of my trip: snuggles and endless stories and playtime. I got to sing to my newest and only goddaughter. I sang to her Billy Joel's She's got a way and James Taylor's Something in the way she moves. They kept popping into my head and it was fun after singing to 3 baby boys, Dixie Chick's Lullaby and Godspeed (sweet dreams), which uses the male pronouns, being that they all had baby boys. I loved singing to her, it was probably the best part of my whole trip. All I've ever wanted was a baby girl of my own. She could be crying and I would sing to her and she'd go right to sleep. Or if she was awake and just fussing, I would sing to her and she would watch me and smile, quieting down and then sing along with her own coo's. I've bonded with all 4 of my best friends' children this way... through song. It's been my thing. I don't think there's anything greater than singing to a baby, because even if you don't know the words, just that way your voice sounds when you sing quietly, not perfectly, but the rhythm and cadence... it's just so beautiful and soothing. Babies really take to it. I wish I was back there now to sing to her. I must've sung to her 4 or 5 times, in the few days I was there. Between that and my best friend intently listening to me read my latest story out loud to her, it was even better than San Francisco. I had people around me then. I heard endlessly "hi sissy" from a 2 year old and the other two fighting over who gets to play with me. Like there wasn't possibly enough of me. I made the 3 boys a scrapbook just for them, so they'd know even with a new baby sister and the attention she would get from me, they were still incredibly special to me. I caught them looking at it on their own, without a parent reminding them to. It was filled with pictures of the 4 of us and lots of stickers and special memories documented on the last almost 6 years, since the oldest is about to turn 6 next month. My bestie texted me when I was in San Francisco that she caught the middle child looking over the scrapbook and insisted it stay by his bed that night. The fact that I am that much a part of their lives, that they want me there right by their bed, that means the world to me. They treat their stuffed animals that I gave them like family members, taking them everywhere and crying if they were left behind. This makes me cry. I know it's not the dinosaur or the turtle. It's that they're from me. I would be in their lives everyday if I could. I love them as if they were my own. Not that I'd know what to do with 4 children, that is a lot. I'm seriously good with just 1, if I'm so lucky to be blessed with 1. So was my trip just fine? Good? It was great. My loved ones were a part of it, so it was wonderful. I loved the city I love the bridge, I loved the weather and the redwood trees at Muir Woods were absolutely intoxicating. I wish I could've spent longer there. I will definitely be taking the boys there next time. They would love it. It was the freshest and best smelling air I've ever experienced. The tallest trees I've ever seen. It was cold in the forest, while down in the city it was much warmer. In the woods, amongst trees, I was in heaven. That's my place. I love being in nature and I have a thing for trees. I want to see those big sequoias you can drive through, next.

So the girl in the room in San Francisco didn't get to experience exactly what she would've wanted, but she is lucky to have gotten to be there at all. I'm lucky to get to board an airplane and fly somewhere I've never been before. Many people never leave their hometown. It's just not feasible. I know I'm lucky, in that respect. Where will I go next? The Grand Canyon? Sequoia National Park? The mountains of Alaska? Who knows! But it will be amazing wherever I go. Because I have the ability to make it so. Just me. By myself. I always do...