If we were at an airport, I would run to you in slow motion and swing you around in my arms — that’s how much I missed you all. The good news is that we won’t have to be apart again until the holidays. The bad news is that though I’m happy to be back home, I am seriously missing Hawaii, to the point that I’m wondering if we shouldn’t put a moratorium on going there just to avoid the terrible case of post-vacation blues that we get whenever we come back.
One of the best things about living in LA is that I become more grateful for living here whenever I go other places. For example, when I go home to St. Louis, I wonder how my family puts up with the weather extremes, as I no longer have to deal with being too hot or too cold. For the better part of the year, the weather in LA is just right, and even when it’s in the 90s-100s, it’s nowhere near obnoxious as unbearably humid St. Louis at the same temperatures. When I go to New York, I love the gritty glamour of the city, but tut over that fact that it’s now almost impossible to live in Manhattan unless you’re super rich. So most of time I’m happy to come home from wherever I’m visiting, but Hawaii is different.
Every time we go, it seems that we spend less and less time enjoying our vacation for what it is, and more and more time lamenting that we don’t live in the Aloha State. I love writing by the ocean. My husband loves the state’s friendly vibe. But he’s firmly entrenched in the entertainment industry, and though I now romanticize my many years as a starving artist, I’ve no interest in going back to that life. Being able to pay your bills is sexy. Health insurance is even sexier.
Still, it’s nice to imagine dropping everything and dropping out to move to Hawaii. And it has me wondering where all you guys would live if money and industry weren’t an object. Let me know in the comments!