October: First-Half Free-Falling

October is officially here, being that it's already half-way over. The leaves have changed... to crispy, and brown-ish. The smells of pumpkin spice, my fake leather boots, and damp Los Angeles air both remind me of the old days (trick-or-treating, going to the football games) and remind me of last year (Starbucks runs, taking those same boots off to cuddle). Something about these smells today reminded me of former loves.

October has been quite packed with awesome amounts of newness, a lot of emotion, a large amount of friends, several coastal road trips. Little physical intimacy. I've already relocated my entire bedroom to NP and my entire childhood into storage. I've traversed the southern third of the CA coast to see John Mayer in the flesh with one sister; I've also journeyed north along my favorite ocean-side drive to cuddle with my other sister, as well as our kitten-babies.

Stepha turned 25, as Emily did today. Nela fell in love. We were terrified at our annual scream, Horror Nights. We were traumatized by the Farewell episode of Glee. I've made decisions I'm much too old for; I've had more tequila shots this month than in the entire year 2013. I finally went to Nili's softball game, and fate seemed to intervene. I've begun my first full month as a leader, my first fiscal quarter (2014 Q1) as a manager... and I initiated my first team-builder with the team of leaders who are now my peers. 

I love living in California. "Fall" meant 65 degrees this past weekend with highs around 80, during a mostly sunny road trip to SB. Fall means grassy football rivalries and tailgates, still-sunny baseball games at the end of their season. Fall means that tent sleepovers might be brisk and wet versus hot and cramped; they still happen, as the other night and Kirb's friends showed.

Aside from this weather, and new things, and our favorite hot drinks at Starbucks, fall is also apparently the season marked by and fit for falling head over heels into crush-mode. What is it?! The chilly weather? The impending holidays? The romantic lights of a baseball field during post-season at Dodger stadium or rec league championships at our neighborhood park? I think it's this last one.

John knew that this was the season in which we most typically and tragically crush. He knew it well, in his first album, when he wrote "St. Patrick's Day."

No way November will see our goodbye 

When it comes to December it's obvious why 

No one wants to be alone at Christmas time 

And come January we're frozen inside 

Making new resolutions a hundred times 

February, won't you be my valentine?

And we'll both be safe 'til St. Patrick's Day

In the spirit of self-knowledge around this purely seasonal tendency toward dependency and impractical romance, I am committed to avoiding the goal of keeping [the guy-who-said-he-wasn't-looking-for-anything-serious] hooked until November rolls around. At that point, I will have convinced him only passively using convenient, environmental factors that - purely against his initial statement in the beginning thirty seconds of our first-ever make-out session - he actually does want something serious. The holidays and the cold weather and our joint love of warm, cozy lattes will have slowly brought us closer together more nights than not, and his inherent boyfriend-esque kindness and warmth and heart will have begun to bleed out and all over me, against his own will. He'll overflow with the love that he'll have fallen into, but then bubble over with resentment, and I'll be so hooked that I'll continue to make stupid, non-independent choices such as inviting him to do this and waiting for him to text me about that despite our love being one-sided.

These, apparently, are the unabashed fears of a crest-fallen girl with a crush. 

The remainder of this iconically orange, fall month is going to be filled with even more adventure and fun. Probably a little bit of heartache. I'm venturing to Vegas to see my oldest, longest, most understanding and accepting friend of all time. We're going to indulge of 48 hours of uninhibited musical heaven, and spend about twice that time simply indulging in our proximity and each other's company - both being so rare. I'm going to focus on all of this fresh air and also fresh beginnings, rather than dwelling on the nostalgia and romance induced by fall. I'm going to focus on friends, and love, and me... the crushes can remain just that; they're nothing I can't bounce back from. 

To Falling.