I don't say goodbyes.

I avoid farewell parties.

I say "see you soon!" or "later!" instead of "good bye."

As a kid who moved every few years, the speed of change and the strength of nostalgia are two mystic powers that I don't mess with. I know they're both strong and true. And, almost always, immutable.

Well, way stronger, truer and more immutable than yours truly, for sure.

So what to do when two of your favorite people beat the feet for new adventures?

You show up to the parties. You help your compadres arrange an impromptu trip to the wrong side of town for sweaty German beers.You might even help write some cheesy lyrics to a classic song and perform them live in front of a group of singers who could kick your butt every day of the week, and twice on Sundays.

You toast their new adventure, their togetherness, their amazing, new big picture. You wish them well. You tell them you'll miss them, for that's indeed the gods-honest-truth.

Even though you're not a say-goodbye kind of girl. 

You celebrate! Because there's nothing to be sad about, right?

But you might shed a little tear, once you're out of the public eye, of course. Because, well, good folks are hard to find. And good folks who still talk to you after seeing you try to catch an L.A. cab while under-caffeinated, or who let you boss their boyfriend into loading your uber-heavy suitcase into no fewer than thirteen million taxicabs?? Well, in my experience there are only 2 of them in the whole world.

Sending my very best wishes to LMB and CM (and BossyCat!) on the eve of their big move. Come back to visit often - we miss you already.

My five:

1. Good friends.
2. Laughter.
3. Hendricks basil martinis. Summer in a glass!
4. Late summer.
5. New adventures.

And this is the song that I imagine they'll sing to each other, once the unadulterated panic of a transatlantic move wears off.