Glory

It's such a glorious day in London, I'm actually giddy. Then again, it's been a good day all around, so that might be part of it, but I'm going to focus on the fact that I am swanning around the city with a light jacket and shoes instead of a my parka and knee high boots. (with two pairs of tights and wool socks)

It would seem spring has finally arrived in the UK, but I'm a cynic and I'm prepared for this to be a flash in the pan. But one thing I have learned about living here, is that days like this, with warm sun, pale blue skies, and only the gentlest of breezes, are to be celebrated. Sure, I had this every day in LA, but that's just the problem; they happened so often, one never notices. Its simply business as usual. Which is why I like seasons. I have something to look forward to; something to pine for, as if I were a Bronte sister. Days like today make winter worth it. Days like today give grand hope. And what would life be without hope?

So here I sit, in the garden in west London, sipping a bit of pinot grigio, congratulating myself on having done such good work the past couple of days that I have earned this treat for myself. The neighbors cat is keeping me company and I am due to meet my friend Clara at what will become my favorite wine bar in all of London, as soon as they let me in the damn place. Its very crowded and I've been on 3 separate occasions without any luck in securing a table. Today, I feel, will be my day.

I was in Dublin a few weeks ago, celebrating Rob's 40th. He's the baby of our group, in spite of me not being a day over 29. It was glorious then to be back in the city. I have missed Dublin in a way I cannot express. I actually leapt off the plane and did a happy dance, so excited to be back on Irish soil again. To be back in the city I love, in my favorite of all places in Dublin, Susan's kitchen, and surrounded by friends... it was a bit overwhelming and exceedingly difficult to get back on the plane. But stomping around the city, as I have so many times before, I was struck by the realization that I felt like myself, that I felt at home, for the first time since I left Dublin. But I do wonder, on days like today, if I would feel that tenacity, that loyalty if I were still in Dublin. I'm not immune to the 'grass is always greener' virus, and I do recall that things weren't exactly working as well as I'd hoped at the end there. I was, after all, trying to relocate to London. But that feeling, that lock down of 'this is where you belong'... that's hard to shake. And I don't feel that here in London yet. I wonder that I ever will.

That said, I've had numerous discussion with Suzie and Clara and Eithne about the difficulties of relocating to London. And they all say the same thing: London is the hardest city any of us have ever moved to. 3 of us have lived in New York and let me tell you, Manhattan was a piece of cake compared to London. LA was easier! And those are some tough damn cities! It's a battle, which I've never had to do before. Every day, I gear up to conquer a city, to bend it to my will. It has yet to submit. I'm convinced it will, but damn... This is the hardest I've had to work for something since architecture school. And then all I had to do was show up and not cry. London's made me cry, I won't pretend otherwise, but on days like today, I forgive it. And I realize that Thomas Jefferson was right: anything worth having is worth working for

But today, I revel in the goodness of it all.