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Trips like these make me wish I had all the time in the world for myself.  I’d explore the most hidden and glorified of all great places and document all of it.  This was the furthest I’ve traveled up the coastal 101 and I’m biding my time before I go again.  The drivers are what’s called ‘respectful.’  We don’t have that in Orange County.  There’s actually such thing as a fast lane – incredible concept when people actually follow it.  I believe I could eventually wind up living up there in wine country.  To think I thought southern California was out once I finished school…Turns out I might love these valleys like I love the ocean-side – eternally.

I looked out at the beige pastures, flat except for scattered smudges of deep green treetops and winding white fences, and I imagined an abstract textile for a dress or blouse I will design one day.  We drove through rolling mountain hills past houses that backed right up to the two-lane highway.  I spotted momentarily a beach cottage’s mailbox with a white lotus flower painted on the side.  It made me think about all the Christmas gifts I want to make this year from scratch.  I also decided that drawing will be the next art class I take and that from now until forever I will be taking one art class a semester.  For everything I want to do with my life, I’m starting to adore the fact that ‘dabbling’ is one of my greatest talents and curiosities.

I’m craving the day that my responsibilities are all at peace so I have every day and night to dive into wherever my head wants to go.  I’m sure I should quit worrying, keep my mouth shut, and my eyes peeled on everything I pass so as not to miss a thing…but unfortunately, the idea of never having to ‘work’ will forever be attractive.  But while I’m riding toward that day, I know I can spot the coolest possibilities just staring out the window.  My friend Liz is coming to visit all the way from Boston next month and we’re going to ride up to San Francisco and make some stops on the way back.  After partying for a night in San Luis Obispo with my sister, there’s a drive-in movie theater with my name on it, and the Madonna Inn, a fortress of a hotel with themed suites buried into the side of a mountain.  It looked like Disneyland on acid.  And I have to go back to Pismo Beach again…because I think I left a part of my heart buried in the sand.

I know this for sure: I won’t ever take my eyes off the road; I will always fight against time; and in the end, I’ll be satisfied if I’ve seen as much of this world as possible.

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