It's Fall

Last night we slept with the window open - instead of the AC on - for the first time since summer. This morning, I woke up late because the light was weak, even at seven. There's a fog over the city dissolving the tops of buildings and I'm reminded just how high those buildings are and just how low the sky can get. It's supposed to rain today. Fall is here, and I am so excited.

Growing up in Los Angeles, you have no choice but to worhsip the sun. I was never a beach bum, but my skin was gloriously dark and I spent the majority of my life in flip flops. I was a sun junky by default.

Then I came east. I lived in a college suite with three girls who immediately pledged a sorority. I thought I was like them - into keggers and brunches and wearing bikinis in central park. I thought I needed blonde highlights. I worried about getting a tanning salon membership before winter started. I was so lucky, they said, to have such a solid base. I could keep my color with just a weekly appointment.

But now, eight years later, I finally know both New York and myself well enough to recognize that I am a fall person. I love the fall. And not just the gorgeous, crisp, windy days. I love the rain. I love the chill. I love the promise of winter. Los Angeles and my sorority suitemates had me fooled. I thought I was a sunny person, but I'm not. Invite me to a party, you'll see. I won't like half the people there. If I even come. I don't own a sundress. My skin has faded to a sad, sickly yellow and I don't mind. It fits my mood these days.