I know W, and she knows me, from our days in law school together. In fact, as we were reminiscing / complaining about one specific class, we slowly remembered that we had sat just two seats away from one another in that very class. Somehow, I'd forgotten that the only thing that separated us during our semester learning to be unethical was the guy in school, and perhaps the entire Twin Cities, with the deepest voice. I wonder what ever happened to him. It was only four semesters ago, but it sometimes feels like a lifetime.
I feel rather fortunate to have met with her today, since she had moved to the area from Florida only a few weeks earlier. The timing gods seemed to be on my side this time around. I also feel fortunate to have met her where I met her. The area, despite being under some heavy construction, is beautiful. She took me to the ocean, a place that I love, both for its aesthetics and for its ability to make me feel infinitely small and inconsequential. The endlessness of the water puts me in my place. Whether I'm feeling high or low, it brings me back to my middle, which, for some reason, makes me feel better, makes me feel connected to the other insignificant people wandering around, looking at the ocean, trying to figure things out.
But while all of this California stuff is new and exciting to me, it's not new to W. California is to her what going to Subway is to me. California is her egg and cheese omelette, and I like that. I like that we are so different, that her normal and mine are so very far apart. I like that I'm at her home as part of my adventure, but also that she's at her home as part of what appears to be an epic adventure of her own, pursuing some things that were once on hold. And I like that we somehow ended up at a Catholic school in downtown Minneapolis together four years ago and somehow ended up on a southern California beach together today. The weirdness and randomness of it gives me that overwhelming, ocean-esque feeling, and takes me back to my middle. Today, I really needed that.