delivered

good evening (she says, burrowing beneath the covers, eyes squinted against the light of the computer in the darkened room). what's your world like today?

the day evolved slowly here, everything covered in a thick blanket of fog. fog, which i'm told is actually 'the marine layer' ... the sea reaching all the way to the hills. it is the highest of tides, i suppose, and always a lovely way to begin the day. lovelier still, is the way it suddenly disappears, leaving the world sunsoaked and shimmery.

it appears to be one of those days where i'm completely in love with everything.

last night was my first 'closing' shift at the store. it couldn't come soon enough. the pace these last days has been ... rabid. i needed to slow down, ease into at least one day of the week. it was as good a day as any. and has left me feeling closer to 'normal' than i have in a long time ...

my car arrived! it's such a small thing, but it makes me feel as if i really live here. standing on the curb, watching them unload her, it felt, strangely, as if i'd been delivered ... small and white; quick and fancy; lightly bruised and a little dirty ... we're very much alike, she and i. (good thing, because we spend a ridiculous amount of time together, these days.)

i'm making friends at work. enemies, too, it would seem. still, work is good - even if the honeymoon is over. this week, everyone appears to be testing my knowledge, my patience, my limits - all at once. it is enlivening and much more to my liking than the tiptoeing that occurred around me in the last weeks. and i am oh so happy to get my hands dirty again.

it's amusing to watch people prove what they can do, especially in light of the fact it feels as if i'm constantly doing the same. less amusing is the idea that my floor managers hate me. perhaps, they only hate the idea of me. it's hard for them, i think, to have functioned as assistants and suddenly be faced with the loss of responsibility and the accompanying 'power.' i am sensitive to it, so i am kind, but i do not coddle them. to accomplish anything, you need to learn to play with it, and the balance between the two is a delicate one. we're all trying to find our footing, and i find myself more tolerant of their tantrums and behind-my-back antics than i will be down the line. i do look forward to the unraveling of the knots they've twisted themselves into.

i also enjoy watching folks try to figure me out. the stock guys wouldn't let me help with anything, (which was odd for me, since i'm used to working the truck, unboxing, moving) until they caught me lifting a sofa onto a dollie - i am freakishly strong (and stubborn). they're all a little looser with me now. which i much prefer. (it doesn't keep them from talking about me when they think i'm not around, though, and i'm still trying to figure out which one of them i overheard say i have an ass 'you'd like to sink your teeth into.') ahhh ... boys. they will be boys. thank god.

oh. there's a cat in my lap, now. chutney, too, it seems, is accidentally normal today. she has finally come out from under the bed, to snuggle and soon, i imagine, to explore and then nap. such a lovely life.

speaking of lovely ... i hope your day can be described as such. if i could, i'd send you this evening - cool and wet, the scent of eucalyptus, leaning against the fence and laughing at whatever stupid thing i've done now. until i conquer the space/time continuum, however, you'll have to settle for my little descriptions and my hugs from afar.

partly cloudy

what was your world like today? here, the temperature has finally taken a cue from the leaves and started to fall.

(the weatherman described it as 'california-like' and i am inclined to agree.)

it was sunny outside, but on the inside, partly cloudy, and, if the day is any indication, this last week will be spent somewhere between suspended animation and perpetual motion. packing and phone calls and meetings with movers and lawyers and more packing and making time for friends and wrestling with boxes and still working and the dog needs food and i need a change of address form and the movers need to measure my stuff and i need one last haircut before i go and frankly, i'm ready to fall out of 'in between' - i'm ready to arrive somewhere. i'm ready to quit all the things that do not fit. i'm ready to rest.

right now, though, it seems everywhere i turn i burn in my own skin.

i still hate packing. but i'm constantly surprised at how easily the past packs away. it will be nice, months from now, to open the boxes, shake off the cobwebs or memories - whichever has gathered there - and find things fresh and new-ish again and shining in the california sun. i include myself on that list.

and in this moment, somehow, it all, at last, seems real. i am ready for it - if not for the goodbyes.

thank you all for your kind words and for your support. tell me, will we always be friends? teaching each other what it's like to be in totally different places, yet from the same? how to keep reaching for something imagined, a better world or a perfect color?

i'd like that.

a full moon

can you see the moon from where you are?

she's making an appearance, just now, outside my window. bright and lovely and completely full of herself. and why shouldn't she be? the sun's been chasing her round and around all day ... just trying to light up her face.

i know how she feels.

my. i haven't written a good post in so long i may have forgotten how. i'm hoping it is a habit that once acquired is never lost. much like riding a bike ...

...so, i begin as usual with ...

hello! (said in my sleepy way, as i sit, crumple-faced, staring at the keyboard.)

the evening is half gone, and though i could have fallen asleep just past suppertime, instead, i'm here. (the slightest time change wreaks havoc on my sleep patterns ... or maybe it isn't jet lag at all. maybe i'm just exhausted by the sheer force of ... everything.)

it's difficult to be back in texas after the sunshine and possibility of california, but it's only for a short while ... most of which will be spent packing and saying 'goodbye,' so it's a nuisance easily borne. it was nice to be 'home.' if only for a little while.

hours not spent driving in circles or touring random dwellings, were filled with splashing and sand castles - so that by each afternoon's end i could be found sun drenched and damp and pleasantly tired, laughing at dogs chasing the surf, listening to the music of the waves and waving goodbye to the sun as it set off toward the beginning of someone else's day. i have a pink nose, lovely tan shoulders and a few new freckles to show for it all.

and in the midst, was i able to find a place to live? yes and no. i've settled on long beach. specifically, a little parcel called 'belmont shores'. it's bordered on one side by the beach and on the other by 2nd street and it's shops and restaurants and (imagine my surprise) gay bars. the streets are narrow and the accommodations small and interesting and full of the hardwood floors and nooks & crannies i'm so fond of.

and i knew instantly that it was not just another neighborhood - it was mine.

i consider it a grand stroke of luck that the rents are not unreasonable - about what i'd expect to pay here for similar circumstances - although, i find the deposits required to be ... well, frankly ... unkind.

and so, rather than rush into something less than ideal, i will stay with my mother for a few months - better to save and to search for just the right place. and as these things go, encinitas is not all a bad spot to view the world for a bit.

the new store is lovely. and big. (and attached to the largest mall i have ever seen.) walking in was familiar and foreign all at once. the people are nice enough, and completely undone by my impending arrival - many of them giving me that slow, silent 'once over', starting with my hair and ending with my shoes and making me glad i'd dressed wisely for the occasion and hadn't just wandered in wearing my house-hunting ensemble. i imagine they spent a good deal of time, after i left for the day, discussing - speculating - on exactly how i'll rock their worlds. i am excited to see how i translate in california. perhaps, i'm meant to be a catalyst - my enthusiasm, my energy, speeding along some chemical reaction. but then again, no. in any experiment, the catalyst is supposed to remain unchanged ... i don't see me emerging from this experience unscathed, unaffected.

still, i am who i am and i do what i do. geography won't change that. though i am interested to see how it all plays out and what the lasting effects will be. it's a challenge i am completely ready for.

be well. look out the window and marvel at the moon. and wherever you are, i hope your evening is spent in the company of friends, or words, or whatever it is that will warm you most.