I don't mind getting caught in the rain

It's the last day of treatment for me and I'm thrilled about that. It wasn't as bad in some ways as I might have thought and in others it was worse. I have a mantra though, inked into my arm in a place that I see and am reminded of it all the time. "Everything is beautiful".

The treatment broke down the bad cells and today my body starts mending itself. It'll knit itself back together neatly and in a few years time the little scars will fade and it'll be a distant memory. Today I'll go back to exercising like I did before and feeding my body everything it needs to be stronger. I'd taken a moment away from all of that so i wouldn't over-exert myself, but today is my green light and I intend to run.

I took a trip to Las Vegas last week to take care of a few things and get some work done. I've finally figured out how to take the next step in transitioning my career and that's what I'm working on now. I've been inspired and the models that I've chosen to work with on this project are only furthering my inspiration.

I went and looked at an apartment here in New Orleans the other day. I know that I've been saying that I'm leaving for a while now, but the doctor I see is here and frankly, so is most of what I appreciate in life. I met someone recently who is thinking of moving here and she's the one final incentive that I needed to just stay, at least a little while longer. Goodbye California dreaming; I'm staying here for now.

The apartment I went to see is on Esplanade Avenue, which is someplace I've dreamed of living. It's got wood floors and a chandelier as well as a balcony and a fireplace. It's much smaller than the apartment I live in now, but I don't have a need for so much space.

I got caught in the rain on my way to see it and had left my umbrella at home. I raced beneath balconies, smiling like a child as I attempted to dodge the fat drops that fell on my face, in my hair, cooling me off from the sweltering afternoon heat. I didn't mind getting caught in the summer rain; I rarely do.

The little old man who owns the building showed me the garden as we dodged big puddles and wiped the last of the rain from our faces. He told me about the parties he throws when the Night Blooming Cereus open up twice a year.

I've been torn for a while about where I should be right now, mostly for professional reasons. Standing in the rain listening to the little old man talk about the flowers, I looked around the garden and felt for the first time in months that I already am where I belong.