I had a great weekend. I nearly missed my flight to SFO because of a TSA mishap (my gods, they’re worse than The [Scary, Scary] Terrorists!), which caused me to nearly miss my flight out of SFO to Medford. But upon arriving n Medford, I had an absolute blast. Hung out with friends old and new, took in some culture, lived a life of leisure, walked all kinds of around, tasted lithium (yik), and just generally realized the benefit of places that are not-LA. I came home having slept approximately 6 hours in the past three days and zombied my way home. Not mentally prepared for the podcasts on my iPhone, I put in one of the only CDs I have in my car, the New Moon soundtrack. Yes. That New Moon. My unfortunate addiction to a blight on our society is a story for another day.

The first song seemed oddly appropriate for the bittersweet (and dog-tired) way I felt:

Meet me on the equinox
Meet me halfway.
When the sun is perched at its highest peek
In the middle of the day.
. . .
And as we walk in the dimming light,
Oh darling, understand:
That everything, everything ends.

For me, this weekend was all the better for its briefness. I didn’t stay long enough to let any of the small annoyances (no internet, uncomfortable sleeping arrangements, incorrect clothing packed) settle in. I stayed on the edge of a forest with black bears, in a house with a hot tub under a sky with no clouds and no light pollution. I saw old friends and drank beers with kindred spirits. I lost myself in worlds foreign to my own (both the slow pace of life in the State of Jefferson and the twisted world of intrigue displayed for my pleasure on a stage). But I had a ticket home and knew my timeline.

There’s a line in the Last Unicorn about how what is immortal cannot truly live because part of living is death. My in-law’s Buddhism seems to be taking hold, but sometimes, it’s nice to remember that everything ends.