"I've smudged the place" and other things I can say in LA

So I'm here. I've been in LA for a week, save the three days I spent in Portland. On top of that, today is my last day w/ MP. Nearly six years, about thirty mental breakdowns, and eight managers later, I'm saying my goodbyes. Actually, as with any company, sure there were challenges, but I am leaving people whom I care about, and truly hope I will work with again. I am regretting only that I didn't finish everything on my plate and that I didn't get a chance to go back to Austin before I left.

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I flew to Portland for the last days of my employment to work and hang out(I haven't received my furniture or clothes from Boston yet). On the 4th Hav and I went on a hike close to Mt. St. Helens. Recently I've been in such beautiful environs (Bahamas, Montana, Pac NW), that I've found places increasingly difficult to describe, and in fact have lost a desire to do so. Osho said that even saying that something cannot be described is a description in itself, and consequently an injustice. Damn. I'm trying to say that nature rocks. These places are where I go to remember. It's the kind of ancient remembering where I feel acutely connected to my humble place in the universe.
Anyway, I refused to bring the guidebook because I didn't want to carry all 6.3 ounces of it. We got lost and a 7 1/2 mile hike turned into 10. If you've read this blog for any length of time, like say a week, then you know that I can't find my way in a grocery store. In fact, with my sense of direction, it's shocking I made it out of the womb. So I'm not sure why I thought I should attempt a wooded hike relying solely on signs posted by the forest service. But I did. As with the 100 or so other times that I've been lost in the past year, I panicked that my navigational skills (or lack thereof) symbolized something metaphysical. Did Gandhi on his 200-mile salt trek actually wind up walking 300 miles because he passed the same tree stump about ten times before recognizing it as familiar? I hope so but the books don't say.

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My roommate, otherwise known as my friend Renee, thinks I'm crazy. Not that she's alone in that, but she is in poor position to talk. April and I have been calling her kooky for years. Her purported evidence on me is that I burned sage when we moved in, I drink Kombucha daily (yes, Tim, it's non-alcoholic), and I'm fervent about recycling and non-toxic cleaning products. Sure, I could be a little bit off, but not for those reasons.
So far this feels a continuous sleep-over in high school except that we don't gossip about boys. Much. For real mostly we dork out over requirements gathering issues, communication problems with our customers, and bug fixes. This is what it's like to have two business analysts under the same roof. I can hear April calling us "losers" right now. I won't argue.

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Ooh here is a picture Malia sent me from Montana. It's all the Austin girls. Malia, Desirae, me, and Bekah. Which reminds me -- I TOTALLY miss the Cambridge studio! I miss its soul; I miss the depth of the practice; I miss the community. I saw a quote today that said "without change there'd be no butterflies". I feel sad that change comes with trade-offs. I wish I knew how to have it all.