All wrapped in bones of a setting sun.

Something happened to me last night. For years I've been getting these restless fits, lasting for weeks sometimes, and suddenly last night I figured out what to do about them. I feel sort of like I've just discovered the tangible difference between being an angsty little teenager and... well, an angsty little adult. Not that that sounds much more impressive. But it's something.

Our history class got out at about 8:30 last night, which is earlier than usual. Most Mondays after class, Amelia and I just go back to her house and eat dinner (if we didn't get it before), and/or drink coffee, and hang out until about 11 when I realize that I have to wake up at 6:45 the next day, so I drive home. Right before class last night, though, Amelia mentioned that there is a doughnut shop down the street that's open 24 hours, and we should go there after class. I said this sounded brilliant, so after class got out, we drove the opposite way and got ourselves some doughnuts. We decided that we ought to find some nice spot to eat them, though we couldn't think of one off the top of our heads. So we decided to drive around till we found one. After cruising Main Street for a while, I thought of the Pavilion, where we have our dances. It's on top of one of the big foothills and its' view is gorgeous at night; you can see the whole city at your feet. At night the ocean and the sky blend into one large black stain around you, but you can tell where the horizon is because of the oil rigs offshore. They are lit up at night so brightly that I once got a boy from out of town to believe that they were floating casinos. Amelia said that when she was young, she thought they were big ships, coming home. I thought that was nice. It's an odd thing about the Pavilion, though - no matter how many dances we've had there over the years, I always think of Pirates of Penzance when I'm driving there. I get that nervous anticipation that I associate with waiting backstage... and then I inevitably get "With Catlike Tread" stuck in my head. It was an interesting experience, that production. I can't say that I miss it much, but somehow I can't avoid feeling a sad nostalgia when I think about it. What a weird semester that was, in general. Probably the hardest year of my life - no, definitely the hardest. I and everything around me was changing, but no matter what else was going on, Tuesdays and Thursdays were spent with the cast at the Pavilion. I guess I just connect that building with a lot of different emotions - and emotions, whether they were positive or negative, tend to make us a little bit sad when we remember them. Or at least, they make me feel that way. I guess there are some people who can look back and be perfectly content with how things are now.

Anyway. Just as I was thinking about how perfect it would be, sitting up there in my car with Amelia, eating doughnuts and listening to music, we got to the Pavilion - and the parking lot was blocked off. We kept going along the road and a few streets later we found a residential road that was almost at the crest of the hill - and the view was almost as, if not more, beautiful. Maybe it was also beautiful because we just happened to find it that way; I don't know. But we parked in front of the houses there and ate our doughnuts and talked about a million different things. I introduced her to "Grace Cathedral Hill", and when it got to the chorus I was struck by how perfect it is for driving at night. "The world may be long for you, but he'll never belong to you. But on the motorbike, when all the city lights blind your eyes... are you feeling better now?" We really do live in a beautiful place, you know that? I don't think much of it during the day, but when I was up there, looking down on it with all its glittering lights, I felt a strange sort of pride. It might have been the first time I actually thought, "I'm glad I live here." Then after a while, we realized that we hadn't eaten dinner, and that we were incredibly hungry - and also, that we weren't ready to go home yet. So we drove across town again and found an In-n-Out, split a burger and fries, and took the food back to Amelia's street. We sat out in the car in front of her house, ate, and waited for her family to come home from wherever they'd been.

At 11, I told her that I'd better go, waited till she was safely inside, and then drove off. But I turned the opposite way on the street that usually takes me home, and went back up to the hills. I drove out a ways along the top of the hill, keeping the city to my right, until I felt that I was getting drowsy, at which point I turned back and found my way home. I sometimes go a little out of my way when driving somewhere, so that it takes longer and I have more time alone - but this was the first time I've gone driving for driving's sake. And it wasn't only that... when Amelia went back into her house, I found myself feeling kind of angry at the idea of going home so soon. Sometimes I get that feeling - the feeling that I'm not patient or energetic enough to be around people that I know - but usually I ignore it and go home anyway. Driving around town with Amelia last night, looking for beautiful places and doing spontaneous things (especially spontaneous things involving doughnuts), had made me so happy. If I could just do things like that for the rest of my life, I'd be quite content. I guess I just wasn't ready to end it at 11, so I drove until I was. Before I could drive, I'd never have thought of doing that; of course, before I could drive, I couldn't have done that. I suddenly feel so liberated and in-control. Big things are always going on, things that I have no control over whatsoever - but I've found something, one little thing, that I can do. When life is getting stressful, or home is frustrating, or I just need to get away, I have an out. I can drive.