Fever Dream

What did I know about Palm Springs before wandering out there? People seem to like going there and it’s the desert. Done, that’s it. There are a lot of places in California I still have yet to see, but with just a two-hour drive, it seemed pretty easy to squeeze in some time to relax in the desert. A five-day jaunt into the unknown turned into something quite memorable.

Looking at the forecast leading up to my trip felt a bit surreal. What does 117 degrees even feel like? 

  • The Bath & Body Works hand sanitizer I usually keep in my car morphed into a bloated contortion of plastic overnight. 
  • Some lucky person may have witnessed the dance I did when I got into my car after forgetting to put the sun shield up. Thighs, hands, shoulders, *bumps head*… It was the rhythmic moves of burning new parts of your body with each breath. F*ck leather seats.
  • Dry heat is misleading. Everything seemed rather bearable at first as I roamed downtown well-hydrated, when suddenly my body was very clear that we were overheating… right now.
  • I chose to ride the aerial tramway over 8,000 ft into the air and up a damn mountain, despite a fear of heights, for a reprieve (well worth it).
  • My car’s highest reported thermostat reading: 124 degrees

To those itching to point out that it is, in fact, a desert, I remind you that even so, this was a heat wave for this time of year! Climate change is real. Furthermore, those who know me also know that I would choose a hot climate over a cold one ANY DAY. So, in summary, I was far from deterred in finding joy amidst the rays of death. 

  • It was my first time seeing an interstate sign that said we were going towards “Other Desert Cities” instead of a specific metropolitan area. (Confusion and generally “tickled”, probably a better summary than joy here.)
  • Date shakes taste like any other fruit shakes, aka delicious.
  • Beautiful scenery – mountains, fruit trees, hummingbirds and even lizards – always puts me in a good mood.
  • Unexpectedly awesome ribs for the win on a lazy evening.
  • A hammock and a good book can cure most things.
  • Frozen cocktails from Tommy Bahama will cure everything else.

As much as I don’t like people, generally speaking, this trip was a good reminder that humans are fascinating and if I set everyone’s bullshit aside, I’m always interested in a good laugh and a good story. I stayed at Les Cactus, a cute adults-only, boutique hotel, just a few minutes away from downtown, discovered by a friend. I was a bit weary of their many rules, but the hotel was extremely well-kept. The decor was gorgeous and inviting, and each room was unique – confirmed by a tour offered generously by one of the staff members. With the exception of Saturday when it seemed completely overrun by white people desperately baking beneath the sun as I peered with curiosity through the blinds of my window, it was usually very quiet and low-key. I kept to myself for the most part except for chatting with the staff, who were very friendly, until towards the end of my stay when I also connected with two different groups of ladies by the pool.  

Before I go further, I should introduce “Vacation Gabrielle;” she’s a different chick. I’ve known her most of my adult life and when she’s in charge, you can not ruin her good time. She’s friendly, playful, patient if not unbothered, and she does whatever she feels like doing whenever a mood should strike her. My new goal is to just be “Vacation Gabrielle” all the time. Not only is she well-liked, but she FEELS great. Challenges seem small and/or hilarious, time and other restrictions become light suggestions to a Queen who has the final say. Be like “Vacation Gabrielle.” 

A friend suggested that Tommy Bahama was an excellent place for frozen drinks and people-watching. I already trusted said friend, but it would be an understatement to say that this recommendation did not disappoint. I am unashamed to share that I went to Tommy Bahama during their daily happy hour every day of my trip save one. Not only are the drinks delicious, but the food was surprisingly very good! To top things off, Vacation Gabrielle became friends with everyone who worked there, quite unintentionally, but it made future visits incredibly fun complete with warm welcomes and free things, which makes even regular Gabrielle a happy-ass camper. 

As I prepared to check-out from Les Cactus on my last day in Palm Springs, I had a final chat with Camila, who worked there and had endured my miscellaneous questions & prodding on a regular basis for days now. She was super young, I think 20, and I was impressed with her strength. Forever a college counselor, I asked her what she wanted to accomplish in her future. She seemed touched that I asked and shared that she wanted to run her own hotel or hotels in Mexico one day. I’ve never felt so sure someone was going to be so kick-ass at something until that moment and I told her so, along with my plans to be a future guest. As we exchanged our goodbyes and I shared how I had enjoyed my stay and the wonderful people I met, she told me how other guests had told her how much they loved me and that she thought I was the most popular person at the hotel. It all seemed so touching and so ridiculous at the same time, I actually doubled over from both shock and overwhelm! I thought about the deep conversations of the night before with ladies I had just met over glasses of smuggled-in tequila (against one of the many hotel rules I referenced earlier) by the pool, well past closing time (another rule). A good reminder that you don’t always know, let alone control, the impact you have on others.

It was a trip full of the unexpected, and I loved it. Be like Vacation Gabrielle.

Photos: Top – view from near the top of San Jacinto Peak, Gallery – various sights from Les Cactus and the view from the Aerial Tramway on it’s way up.

“Welcome to Your New Life”

“Welcome to your new life.” That’s how I started my first journal entry on the road up the Pacific Coast Highway (or PCH as we say on the west coast). I chose a brief stop at a beach in Malibu on the first day, which had become my second home. Quiet and unassuming, I retreated here often during the pandemic to collect my thoughts and soothe my nerves the way only the sun and waves can. It seemed only appropriate to begin my trip, and essentially this entire new journey, with such a grounding location. 

For those hungry for the itinerary “deets,” you’ll find them at the bottom of this post, complete with suggestions should you find yourself wandering along the 1 someday soon.

It wasn’t long into the road trip before I found myself at a peaceful winery somewhere in the rolling hills outside of San Luis Obispo on a sunny day. Wineries became synonymous with time for reflection amongst my adventuring and this coastal venture was among the most relaxing and joyous I’ve taken yet. For the first time since college, my journal lives in my purse. I pull it out to document whatever thoughts may formulate while I move through the world with eyes wide for discovery. I already see myself in a new light.

Blackness has long been synonymous with chains in this country, real and metaphorical. Restrictions, assumptions, accusations, the list goes on. I found that pushing against them still allowed their weight to bounce back upon me, whether it grabbed on abruptly or slowly crawled. I allowed myself to live within the confines of expectations even while I rejected them. I had to really; I wasn’t born into wealth so some practicality had to come into play. Now, I feel blessed that that hard work has led to the ability to taste life as if it were truly mine to shape. I don’t need to actively fight as much but rather choose myself – my health, my joy, my dreams. 

For all my ideas, once I launched this site and finally launched the physical portion of my journey, I had to step back and reevaluate what I wanted this blog to truly be about. The travel, yes, but it’s more isn’t it? It’s time alone to ruminate on experience, thoughts and embrace the lightness that comes with that space. It’s the independence, the sharing, the inspiration I’ve been told I’m already giving. Ultimately, I want to find my home. Home isn’t where you lay your head necessarily. It’s where your thoughts rest, where your worries dissipate, where you can set aside assigned identities and simply exist as you. “Home” can move. Though I didn’t really know how to articulate it until now, I’ve always found it curious to believe that home is just one place – or even necessarily a place at all versus simply a state of being, a state of unapologetic existence. I promise to balance my existential thoughts, life conclusions, and the like with actual trip details and my usual unsolicited observations of course (sorry and you’re welcome).

As I prepare to turn 36 tomorrow, I know this next lap around the sun will be unlike any other. I want to see what I can discover in my own skin, own my joy, discover what I really need, what I can leave behind, and build a future of my own design. As humans, I think we often look for a place to fit into the world instead of creating or building a space for ourselves. We accept what we believe we have to. I once thought it took courage to break out of that cycle and it does, because it’s certainly a risk, but more importantly, it takes bold and radical self-acceptance. It takes an unwillingness to sacrifice all of you for something that doesn’t serve you. It takes moving through anger and frustration; it takes feeling rejected, disrespected and ignored. It takes failure and it takes intention. Intention is what I’m leading with now and it’s intention that will guide and ground me through new challenges and be my compass to navigate my own course. People will want you to stay in your lane, but for marginalized groups in particular, those lanes are often assigned to you and usually rooted in complete bullshit. Reject it. Build a new road in the direction you want to go, for now (I know mine will be a windy one), and get going. Add a little *toot toot* on that horn for them haters! 

PCH Route & Standout Recs:

  • Carpinteria
  • Pismo Beach
  • San Luis Obispo
  • Cambria
    • Elephant seals – what a funny bunch they are
    • The locals swore me to secrecy but if you can get to Sea Chest Oyster Bar, you won’t regret it! Beware: Dinner only, cash only and limited days open
  • San Simeon
  • Big Sur
    • McWay Falls
    • Nepenthe to nosh – try the Elderflower Spritz and of course, the burger
  • Carmel
  • Monterey
  • Santa Cruz
  • Half Moon Bay
  • Marin County with a Berkeley detour
  • Paso Robles
    • San Antonio Winery – tasty tacos and a delicious “Afternoon Delight” flight hit the spot for lunch

PS – If you’re looking for a way to help me celebrate my birthday this year, please consider a donation to the non-profit, Shero’s Rise – the next generation of girls deserves to discover their worth sooner and reach greater heights. Let’s lift them up together – thank you for spreading the word!

Photos: Top – Room view at Inn at the Cove, Bottom – Random road stop near Cambria

How did we get here?

There have been a few times in my adult life when I had to ask myself, “How did I get here?” Some of those were immediately followed by the more important, “How do I get away from here?” Sometimes, you’re led down a path that works and other times, you have to intentionally choose and chart a new course. The journey that I begin now is a representation of the latter.

We’ve all found ourselves in a space in which we did not wish to be at one time or another. Not necessarily because we had done something wrong, though sometimes it was in fact a faulty decision, but ultimately, sometimes life/the universe/God (whatever you believe) has different plans for us than those we may have carefully laid. In truth, I’ve reached these crossroads several times and I’ll be the first to admit that it’s scary every time. This time felt different. I saw myself sacrificing my health, dignity, and soul, and I recognized a pattern. A pattern of my own habits as well as the environments I allowed myself to attempt to carve a space within. Spaces that were never designed to support or nourish me no matter how much I gave. At the time of this recognition, I likened it to being shoved from a precipice that I had long been pushed towards. From the bottom, looking up, I realized I had no desire to reach the summit. I realized that this was not my mountain to climb; it was the one I was told to climb, the only one I had been able to see, and being someone driven to achieve, I had therefore dedicated all of my effort and energy, planning and strategizing and more to ascend its steep face. What I realize now is that the mountain I’m supposed to climb is a little to the left. It won’t necessarily be easier or take less time to reach great heights, though it might. I just know the air there won’t choke me when I try to breathe, I can stop to make camp wherever I choose, the wind carries my voice when I speak instead of drowning it out, and the prize for reaching the peak isn’t something that someone else awards to me – it’s something I claim for myself.

I’ll stop the outdoorsy metaphors now because those who know me know I’m not exactly one to commune with “The nature,” but I hope you see it too. And I hope you see it for yourself. I hope every person who reads this takes a moment to pause right now. Look right, left, up, and down. Are you on the right trail, the right ridge? Whose mountain are you climbing?

I have no special gifts or crystal ball so I don’t know how or when I will reach my destination, whatever that may look like. I know sometimes life is just hard, but I also know there’s something to be said for making peace within and making my own joy. Luckily, my hard work for that first mountain put me in a position to be able to take a detour, to take my job to a remote space, and wander. Maps no longer suit me – they were made by someone else, with their biases and beliefs. Maps are just suggestions now. With every intention of returning to home to Los Angeles, I’m also letting my roots fall where they may and digging in as I go. At the end of all this, date undetermined, I hope to publish a book of corresponding poetry. Until then, I aim for bi-weekly, if not weekly, updates on where I am in this journey – physically and metaphorically.

Thanks for tagging along!

Photo taken @ Descanso Gardens, La Cañada Flintridge, CA