C'est possible

I am now back at "home" in Paris after 17 days in the USA. My saying that Paris is home seemed significant to some back in California.

It's not really. Home is where you live. Where all of your stuff is. You can make a case for it being just as simple as that.

Or not.

Home could be where you were born and raised - where you spent the formative years. 

So that would make Los Angeles home for me. I was just there. It kind of feels that way. It sure is familiar. I know where to turn and what freeway to take where. I know how to slide back and forth between lanes of traffic and how to leave LAX by the back way.

Its like riding a bike - you just don't forget certain things. 

Then I went to San Diego. I was at home there too. I went to college there. I raised my family, lived my adult married life and made great friends  under its relentlessly sunny skies. It is more than familiar.

But I don't live there anymore. I am a visitor, a guest.

So how do I feel now that neither of my homes are my homes anymore? I never felt very nostalgic for Los Angeles when I was living in San Diego. San Diegans never pine for LA. It's just not done. So moving to Paris has softened me up on LA. Its not so bad. Lots of nice people who don't tell you c'est pas possible when you make a request, live there.

And moving to Paris has made living in San Diego feel almost like it was all a dream. It was 85 Degrees the second week of November. I had lunch overlooking the ocean and I wasn't on an island somewhere. I could have done stuff like that all the time when I lived there.

But I didn't of course. 

It was wonderful to be back but I don't live there anymore. I'm not sure how I feel about all that.

But I really can't complain. I live in Paris. That is a dream for many just like living where you can go to the beach in November. 

Me living in Paris makes anything c'est possible!