Big Cities and California Summers

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Its my name: Marisa means "of the sea". I suppose it is suiting. I have always loved reading old diaries of distant lives. Here you can read my ongoing story, a log of riding a log (if you will) with musings, tales, poetry, jargon, secrets, cliches, whatnots and other pieces of my day. So next time you are stuck indoors, pull up a warm chair and read about the simple happenings of my life in the Pacific Ocean. Ask me anything

June 19, 2012

I am leaving the country, the continent even, on Thursday. Departure 1:45pm LAX. I am drowning in anticipation of what new things may come, but I will miss Summer at home, surfing Sapphire like I did today, being with my family, laying in the sun. All of a sudden, South American Winter in a big city seems daunting and what I already know and love is so much easier. But if I always did what was easy, my life would be rather boring. So I raise a glass to being a little afraid and some premature homesickness.

2:02pm

(Notes: 1)

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