T minus 2 weeks, 59 hours, 42 fahrenheit degrees

A malibu girl that never learned to surf. A dirty blonde with measurements of a small kangaroo. Messy hair and a watch tan.

It is true that I've never been a perfect casting decision for Baywatch. This is one of the comforts in my life. And I have assured myself that nobody could say to me with accuracy that i am "oh my God, like so L.A." Though born and raised and only briefly escaped from here, I've still never felt an affinity to tight jeans and furry boots and anorexia and glamour sunglasses. I haven't a headshot, I don't pin my future hopes to casually bumping into Martin Scorsese in Gelson's and getting him to direct my first feature while we chat in the no-carb aisle, and I haven't as far as I know yet called anyone "baby" that wasn't actually a child or a significant other. (i admit that with some hesitation).

Yet, I am due to leave in two weeks to move to Ireland for seven months, and suffering quite the empty nest syndrome. I get up as early as I can every morning to see the thing that i will miss the most. The sun. Because it shines about 18 hours a year in Ireland. Of course, here too it seems a rarity amidst our unprecedented rains. Fitting with my Irish luck.
And frustrating, but somehow comforting. Like if i don't see it too much before I leave, when I get there, I wont miss it. Out of sight, out of mind. I like it when the elements take it upon themselves to school me. It's flattering to have so much out there looking out for me. But it's slighty worrisome as well--like I'm enough of a mess, that they have to get the big guns involved and change the hemispheric weather patterns to make sure I'm okay. They couldn't just schedule a program on the Discovery Channel about Guinness and the Irish Soul that I would happen to see when I flip on the TV.

There is nothing about the travel, the "leap into the unknown," the different habits, undecipherable English, beer stew, that I'm really nervous about. Only the sun. And it seems a bit childish, a bit L.A. if I may. That I might base my happiness on 70 degrees and palm trees. But I went to college in Vermont, and I was depressed for three years. The Otter Creek Pale Ale didn't help enough.

So with that, I leave you to go chase a little sun tail. I've got my goose-down winter coat, my umbrella, my Ugg boots, with my bikini underneath, just in case.