Hollow Bean Beach

...along Pacific Coastal Highway.

peace

I can't believe I live here.

It was warm today. 88 degrees, though not humid. Really, it was a heat that scorched the top of your head or your seat, but otherwise left you alone.

Our stuff is coming tomorrow so after taking the morning for business, I grabbed a bite with Paul at the Crepes restaurant a block away, then decided to finish my book while he went into the city.

I walked into Burgess Park, about 5 minutes away. I've mentioned it to my friends as a place perfect for soccer. Well, it's being renovated. Half of it is brand new sod. The other half, well, let's call that new-ish sod. I'd pay to play on either. Fortunately, soon I won't have to. There are full baseball fields and little league sized baseball fields, tennis courts, playgrounds, open space for reading/lounging/frisbee, benches everywhere, and--welcome to california--a skate park that unbelievably sits with mild use. I'd be tempted to take my rollerblades out there tomorrow, but I'm too old to handle a 1o ft drop right now. Wrists are fun to be able to use. There is also a huge pool complex with a kiddy pool, general use pool, and lap pool. They have waterpolo teams apparently as well. The pool is no longer the city's, however, so that costs some money.

Anyhow, I read my book in the sunshine and caught a few rays in the meantime. The train was drowned out by my iPod. Some of the chatter and laughter from the pool, fortunately, was not. An old stoner/hippie strummed his guitar in the shade just beyond earshot.

The walk home was peaceful. The air was warm and smelled like whatever flower I was passing by at the time, none of which I know except for the honeysuckles that are everywhere. The windows to my apartment are open, a crossbreeze is flowing by, and I think it's time for a sandwich.

I'll post some pics once I get my camera back. In the meantime, look for me on myspace. I think I'm finally succumbing.

easy hello

It's 9:30pm now, or so my computer says. It is sunny and feels an odd degree of hot despite an objective 73 degrees with no trace of humidity. The flight was a turbulent one, and though I try to neglect a certain dramatic sense of foreshadowing, apparently I have failed.

The apartment is very clean, smaller than I recall, and hints somewhat of the house I have been reading about in Upton Sinclair's, "The Jungle". (For those who have not yet read the book, the house is one sold as "new" over and over again, all the while creating situations where new owners cannot afford it. The house becomes "new" again with simple repairs and a heavy dose of fresh paint). That book in itself may be shaping my mood somewhat, it being a novel of misfortune great enough to incite depression in its readers.

Paul (brother-in-law) and I arrived on time after about 9 hours of travel, did the apartment paperwork, then hit Target and Safeway for the basics. We stopped for some gourmet Jack In The Box. We learned a few valuable lessons: don't try the sweet and sour sauce, and don't try the sirloin burger. At Safeway, things really turned upwards. I looked down several aisles of wines, mostly local, and found many great bottles from a very wonderful last year of my life. I repurchased Honig Sauv Blanc (honeymoon), Chateau St. Michelle Merlot (graduation dinner at The Capital Grille), and the easy to find Copolla Merlot (dad brought it when he came to visit our apt for the first time).

And now I sit in a mostly empty apartment. All I hear is the hum of the refridgerator, a gentle breeze through the curtains, and the ruinous clacking of my keyboard. And I am beat.

But there is a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge, I have a mostly free day ahead of me tomorrow, I have the security of a great support network, and--slowly but surely--this ride has officially begun.

Perhaps now it's time to change my computer clock to 6:30pm...

tough goodbye

Well it's 11:30pm. I leave in 8 hours. I just said goodbye to all my closest friends, minus Justin. For the first time I feel something less than positive about the move. I don't quite know how to classify it, but it's in the ballpark of fear. At its least, it can be called a moment of hesitation. I see clearly now that I am gambling personal preference of climate and adventure against great relationships. My very best friends--relationships earned over time through periods of turmoil, growth, and a youthful exuberance that just cannot be recreated--they are now in a place where we need to try and sustain our friendships through longterm communication and rare, expensive, and strenuous travel. And that's something I willfully did.

I gambled with my best friendships, and unless I return in a few years, they will be forever changed.

I am heartbroken. Excited also somewhere within, but deep down, I am very very sad right now.

I expect the next few months to be a kaleidoscope of these emotions, especially with these friends making such genuine efforts to come and visit. These visits, of course, will slow in frequency over time, and again I will feel like I do now.

Ryan, Neil, Marty, Justin, Jimmy...thanks. Maryland just wasn't for me. I don't know how else to explain it, but I just need to do this or I'll always regret it.

Ryan: carbombs + wooden blocks, sleeping under juanita, and "Shots On Goal".
Neil: minigolf in the halls, miss piggy mugs, and the albatross.
Marty: battery-powered calendars, koosh basketball, and "I've got a question for you".
Justin: head first in the trashcan, banana blitz, 26.2, and Maggie Moore's FC (champions).
Jimmy: basement pingpong, miller's hand = jimmy's hair, when you almost got stabbed at my bachelor party.

Alas, here I go......

For better or worse, here I go.