A Cool Front

I don't think there's anything lovelier than a cool front blowing through New Orleans after days of heat and pea soup-consistency humidity. Walking to work this morning I actually got slightly chilled, it being in the 70s and all. I almost bought hot coffee instead of my usual iced skim cafe latte.

Last night I went to a BBQ at Katherine's place. After an embarrassingly inept how-do-you-use-charcoal moment, we did manage to get a fire going and the bratwurst were perfectly charred. The wind picked up about the time we settled into our brats and beers, and it was the first time I felt a twinge of autumn in the air. It made me slightly sad, honestly. I love autumn, love the connection between cool weather and library days, but it's also likely the last autumn I'll spend in New Orleans and the last I'll have with these friends. It's exciting of course, to know that this time next year we'll all have directions and homes and careers or new studies elsewhere. But it's also terrifying how quickly it all flies away, how your life can alter so drastically in a matter of months.

I think it's odd how you can get very attached to certain people and yet know that it isn't forever. I've had several of these friends. Women and men that I was completely connected to, who saw me cry and throw up and yell and freak out, and then who just slowly disappeared into marriages or careers or homes. I disappeared, too, of course. Disappeared into Morocco or law school or Katrina. But then, there have always been those other friends, too. The ones that have stuck around for what seems like forever (and aren't they all tiny forevers? college? law school? Peace Corps? high school? snippets of time that keep on recurring...) and that I've always known would be around forever. It's just a comforting feeling, to have that moment of, "you're not going anywhere, really, you're staying with me."

I had that moment last night. Katherine and Stephanie were sitting across from me and I was talking to a girl I don't know and they were talking to each other. I just watched the two of them for a handful of seconds. Stephanie was tired and not in the warmest of moods, which always upsets me and throws me off a bit (and I'm no good at communicating that so that throws me off, too). Katherine was calmer and pretty, a wedding magazine will do that to a woman sometimes. They were laughing softly about something. I was cranky over my leg (long disgusting story...skin infection...blood...no need for more details) and feeling rather puny. But I saw them and everything ugly and impatient inside stopped exploding. Everything calmed. I just knew that it would all be okay. That they weren't going anywhere. California, yes. Texas, perhaps. Places other than places I will likely end up, definitely. But we aren't really leaving each other. Just spreading out, finding other things and people to love, but not loving each other any less. They are in the latter group, the group that does not disappear into the changes life brings. I had not known that before. I had hoped it, hoped they'd be in the small, select group of the Undisappearing, but it was just a hope until last night.

So now I know. And that's nice.