I’m 97% sure that I ate breakfast next to Marlo Thomas. Before I saw her face I noticed her pants — double knit, perfectly navy blue, chic.
“Those are not the pants of a mortal,” I thought. Then my breakfast came, and I was distracted by house-made corned beef hash and creamy lemon-colored eggs.
A woman sitting across from me, two tables away, caught a look at maybe-Marlo-Thomas and started Googling. Discreetly, she showed her partner the results of her search. Her partner did not respond enthusiastically and it took all my self control to not walk over and say, “You’re right! It IS Marlo Thomas. I am excited for us!”
Instead I finished my eggs. Stole a sideways glance. Focused on the book I was reading instead of aggressively eavesdropping.
Marlo and I had breakfast just steps away from the ocean. The sea. The lair of mermaids and shipwrecks and screeching gulls and crashing waves.
For so many years I believed I wasn’t a beach person. I grew up on an island and never went to the beach. Sand, sun, salt, long walks from parking lots, rowdy crowds, warm bologna sandwiches—meh.
As is often the case, I was wrong. I’m an off-season beach person. I don’t care if 3/4 of the restaurants are closed and the rest shut down at 3pm. The hotels are cheap, the seagulls sing their seagull songs, and I get the whole beach to myself.
I ran away to the beach this week because I needed Rachel Alone Time™.
On Friday I left a job and that was peopled with many magical humans. It was time to go and leaving should have been easy but it never is. It’s especially hard when your colleagues Fedex you the most perfect, joyful card on your last day.
Since I gave notice I’ve said a dozen times, “I’m still alive! We can text! I’ll visit!” and I meant all that but I also know that when you leave a job a hole opens up and swallows the memory of everything you’ve said or done. On Friday I stepped into the hole right around 6 and then whoosh, gone. All of me, gobbled up.
I can handle being disappeared (Thanks, therapy!) but not without a few quiet days staring into the ocean with an ambitious to-do list and a clear mind.
It worked. I knew it would. x
A bunch of random things:
-I binged BIG MOOD and it’s as good as I hoped it would be. A vibe like Fleabag but also not at all like Fleabag.
-Reading this week: Wandering Stars by Tommy Orange & Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt. Loved both.
-Van Pelt’s book features a very smart octopus. Honestly, stick an octopus in anything, and I am sold.
-I set myself up on You Need a Budget (YNAB). Seriously folks, three days at the sea and I am an organized person with a budget and an almost-cleared to-do list!
-I have a credit from Omega from when I got Covid and missed Jen Pastiloff. I’m going to use that to hang out with Cheryl Strayed. It’s not a replacement for crazy fun wonderful Pastiloff times, but the workshop is called Wild Awakenings so OK, I like that.
-Maria Bamford. I’ve viewed her from afar but now I’ve listened to a few chapters of her memoir (as read by the author) and it’s brilliant, bananas, and includes a recipe for tater tot casserole.
-Because I’m an off-season kind of gal, the only place I could get coffee at night was Wawa. The first night I knocked over a very large cup of blueberry coffee in the hotel and it’s smelled like this all week. Even messes are wonderful at Wawa.
I met Marlo Thomas at the LA Times Book Festival. I overheard her asking her escort for a granola bar, and I grabbed on from the buffet table and gave it to her. The price? A selfie.
I'm so glad you're doing YNAB! I'm sooooo into it!