should have been a cowgirl

I'm up in the mountains now, for the last time until December. I had a great drive up--California still takes my breath away, especially the parts of Highway Four where the road curves around and there's a break in the trees and whoosh--there's a vista, a really fucking gorgeous sweeping view of the mountains across a stunning drop. Dangerous, breath-taking mountains.

I'm driving home in the morning to pack and pick up my parents from the airport. I've been mostly calm about leaving, but I keep having minor freak-outs--about my haircut, about where to eat dinner, about picking a face lotion, stupid stuff. I think mostly I'm freaked about leaving California, the geographic place. People move all the time; we'll always be in transition. But the place of California, I can't call California, I can't expect California to write letters. On the bright side, I know it'll be here when I get back!