Or this...
and not desperately, so desperately want to move back. Immediately.
And yes, mentally I realize if we did move back that things probably would not be exactly the same as they were when I lived there. I'm just guessing that our family of 5 probably couldn't get a mortgage for the $550 Joy and I were paying to live here.
Nor could I work part-time at an office minutes from Seal Beach, wear my bikini under my work clothes, and sunbathe on the beach during my lunch hour. And not just because my Whelpers Cup body is no longer bikini friendly. The $14/hour, no benefits lifestyle just doesn't cut it for someone with a pacemaker.
With 3 children in tow, teaching a children's choir for $250 a semester wouldn't cover the cost of a babysitter no matter how much joy it brings, not to mention I wouldn't have hours upon hours to wile away alone trying to find just the right music to teach. And my friends have literally scattered. Most are still in So. CA to be sure, but they are no longer going to my old church which was my lifeblood. (The faithful few that are will be rewarded later this week with a post unto themselves.)
Regardless. Somehow in my heart, I think I could still make it work. So much so that typically when I return from CA, I badger my husband mercilessly about finding a job there so we can move back. Predictably, this trip was no different.
What was different was this. On Tuesday night of this week, I had a meeting at church. When I came home around 9:00pm, Jeff had found a job opening in Irvine, CA that looked interesting and he was well qualified for (With Capital Group of all places, KP, if you are reading this.). Considering my west coast heritage and my inflated opinion of life there, you'd think that I would have leapt for joy at the very prospect. But instead, I kind of panicked. Because as it turns out, I'm not ready to leave MY job. As accommodating as they have been of my telecommuting for the last four years, I'm pretty sure a 3-hour time difference would kill the deal.
So we are staying. For now. And I'm pretty much over my funk. I think. Because it's pretty hard to stay depressed when you realize maybe you are already on hallowed ground, it just has lot more humidity than you were expecting.
One of my cousins just left to go visit her family in TZ--go on a safari, going to Zanzibar--and my first reaction was insane envy. Then I remembered that she's 25. I was all over the globe at 25 as well. And SHE was jealous of ME. And then I realized that I'm kind of content right where I am. I traded one crazy for another and I sort of like this crazy. I'm even getting used to the humidity as well.
ReplyDeleteAnd well done Jeff for indulging you. :D
Beautifully said. I miss you, though!
ReplyDeleteYes, I'm here! I'm here!! As long as I've been blouted* I figured the only decent thing to do was to post a comment on your excellent blog. Ah yes, beautiful southern CA, there's really nothing like it, is there? You reminded me of my first visit there 23 long years ago. I made a beeline for the water and ended up at Venice Beach (I think). Finally I found myself laying on a California beach. But I had to stay on my back, pressed completely flat on the sand the entire time. You see, every time I sat up, I got painfully sandblasted by icy winds! I've been to Seal Beach too -- who knew?! As far as where you want to end up, perhaps there is some truth in that old saying, "Home is where the heart is". Otherwise, try clicking your heels 3 times and see if anything happens.
ReplyDelete* Blouted: This is a new word I just made up. It describes what happens to a lurker when a blogger outs them by mentioning them in a post, which results in the lurker being hard-pressed to remain a lurker. :)
Awesome post! It was amazing to see you all. I wish you would move back, however, I would hate to think of the five of you shacked up in that teeny little apartment on Lakewood Blvd. No one should have to share a room with 4 other people.
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