12/12/17
Air as thick as the minds who don’t believe in global warming. Ash falling from the sky like confetti on New Years Eve, covering the pavement like a carpet of snow. Everyone walking around with masks as if we were MD’s, and are about to save a life. That life however, is our own.
I tried to pack minimally, but my ego did most of the work. Within 30 minutes, I was sitting on top of my third massive suitcase trying to tuck in my lingerie that was way too expensive, and did not get nearly enough use, to leave behind. I heard the sound of a siren, put my mask on, and left my cottage. Clumsily dragging some of my suitcases behind me, I got to my car and opened the trunk. Ash rushed into my car. “Shit…” I thought as I immediately began to hurl my belongings carelessly so I could close the door ASAP.
Not long after I got on the road, I saw the mountains surrounding me engulfed in flames. Tears began to fill my eyes. Truth be told, those tears rolled down my cheeks, and I cried. I’m used to shit happening, and me staying tough and moving on with life. This was different. This brought me back to September 11th. The stuff that stays ingrained in your mind for years to come.
Fast forward several days later, and here I am in LA at a Starbucks feeling somewhat guilty for using their wifi without buying a coffee. Ugh, fine, I guess I will.. Anyways, yesterday I did yoga at a park, bought some yummy food, took a bath, and did all of the generic self care crap. Today I miss Santa Barbara. I know it was amazing there, but I can’t believe how much I took my life for granted. Where I live, the city, my work, my friends, like why the fuck do I ever think my life is anything but extraordinary? … Minus the fact that I’m a little bitter about this guy still not texting me to see if I’m okay. He’s incompetent in the realm of communication. I’m over him. Next.
Moving right along… I just want to go back home. I feel so helpless. I want to help stop the fire, but all I know how to do is stop, drop, and roll, and I feel like that would be pretty counter productive for what they’re trying to accomplish. That being said, I’m alive and everything is working out.
I appreciate what this catastrophe has instilled in me. An immense amount of gratitude for the life I had, and will have again, and an appreciation for what I have now. I’m looking forward to continuing this adventure called life. This fire may have taken my breath away in the literal sense, but figuratively, my life does, and that’s the greatest gift I could ever give myself this Holiday season…. Now let’s see how long this lasts before I start bitching about how I’m not getting any younger or thinner.
Walking past giant stone mansions covered in ivy, that looked like they came straight out of a fairy tale, I thought to myself, “If we turned around and got back in the car before getting to the bonfire, this night would still feel complete to me.” My friends and I got to a huge iron gate, and I was the first to hurl myself over, so they would stop talking like the Scooby Doo crew about how we could get through or around it. Using our flashlight apps on our phones, we made our way down a sandy path to the beach. A bonfire was made, and flamethrowers started to put on a show with the twinkling night sky and ocean waves as their backdrop. 
Brooke Lyn Landon 