Jackelopette

I have had a busy, busy month.

I’m now living in a 1-bedroom apartment, in Davis, with my beloved cat and my very own bills. While I have the basic furniture, I’d really like a couch. The bedroom, kitchen, and dining room are all functional, but I have no place besides the floor to crash and watch movies.

That said, I haven’t had a whole lot of time to contemplate the lack of couch. The first weekend back in Davis I spent arranging all my many boxes of stuff and acquiring more stuff to store said stuff and basically settling in to my revised life. Then there was Picnic Day – I entered one of the Alumni Association drawings and ended up with a new duffle bag filled with stuff. Not bad, but more stuff to arrange.

I left for San Francisco the Monday after Picnic Day for the Web 2.0 Expo with my colleagues. Not a bad trip in the least, but it did mark the first of several overnight trips away from my new nest. We spent the majority of the time in meetings with our developers and ironing out bugs… but the eating was good and the company enjoyable.

Two weeks ago Grammy passed away.

I had just returned from San Francisco when I heard, and was looking forward to a trip to Seattle. I ended up heading back to Ojai instead. I won’t say the weekend was easy, but it was surprisingly relaxing in many ways.

I sang Mozart’s Ave Verum Corpus at the funeral, and spent most of the weekend reconnecting with all the family members I haven’t seen in a year or more. It felt a little strange at first, but the overall consensus was that Grammy always wanted to be in the middle of wherever the family party was taking place, so it was our duty to give her a good party. There were a few who missed the proceedings, but I think we gave Grammy a good send-off.

About 30 minutes after I returned home, I started a lovely bout of digestive upset. It knocked me out for the bulk of Monday and Tuesday of last week. After a frenzy of catch-up work, I headed up to Seattle for the first purely relaxational weekend I’ve had in a long time. Oh, it was lovely.

Now I’ve returned to Davis once more, and perhaps this will be a normal week. No, in fact it won’t.

I’ve come down with a cold.

On my wish list:

1. Sweaters. Lovely warm sweaters. Loose turtlenecks, pullovers, layer-able sweaters… it’s cold here.

2. A Garmin or similar device … since I’m planning to drive out here in April and will be exploring the east coast in the spring and summer, seems like a smart thing to have.

3. Friends for exploring and hanging out here. I dearly, sorely miss my people back in California, but if I’m going to make this work I need people here, too.

4. Travel vouchers for Sacramento, Seattle, and Burbank/LA. Those are my ports of call and I intend to visit them as often as possible.

I just realized that this will be my first dogless Christmas.

It will be the first time that I’ll come home from an extended period away … and not have my dog waiting for me.

I had this vision of bringing friends over, and thought I’d have to remind them about the ferocious watchdog who’d turn putty as soon as they entered… but I don’t have to do that anymore.

I think I will have to spend a good long time cuddling Sophie. Bad enough to have spent the last two months missing her in brief stabs as I realize I don’t have her. Still worse to realize that I won’t be able to do so with Wiggy.

In case you hadn’t gotten the message yet, here’s my hometown.
Spas and Stars, but Ojai Tries to Stay Grounded – New York Times, November 30, 2007.

The last few days have held enough reasons to rejoice in my old friends that I am ready for whatever fate throws my way.

It’s bittersweet, of course; none of us are in the same locations or frames of mind anymore. Some things have grown easier, some harder. There are friends with whom I’ve lost touch and would like to regain it. There are others, who still haunt the old relationships, whom I’d rather forget.

In reconnecting with the Ventura/Ojai folks I risk losing my Davis family – not because I lack affection for them but simply because I am not there. I find it hard not to follow my more immediate friends, though I know that in the long term I hold this place more deeply in my heart than I do Davis. I’ve near-brothers and near-sisters in both places – those friends of the heart that I could never leave wholly behind.

It’s hard, having to wait. Hard trying to convince myself of one place’s merits over another – and knowing that it all depends not on my choice but on someone else’s decisions. I haven’t spent so long a period at home since I moved into an apartment; it’s required a lot of adjustment but I’m finally content as an adult here, too.

I don’t recall ever dreaming of an escape from Ojai. Of course I’d go away to college, travel, learn, live, love in other places – but I never truly felt trapped here the way so many others do. I never minded the deep roots.

The more I wait for a way to stay in Davis, the more I’m quite satisfied to live in Ojai. I suppose that’s for the best, really – ready to live in either place, accept what comes.

I never saw a need to be jealous of my friends as their lives changed; I’ve always seen life as a series of chapters in an unfinished book. Characters move across the pages, recurring or not as their roles demand. There are some whose return I applaud again and again, no matter how long or how distant their absence. There are also some to whom there are things I’ll never say.

The closer I get to the answer I’ve been awaiting, the less I want to hear what I used to wish for… I keep telling myself it’s all right to feel as I do – that there are no rules for the post-college soul-searching I’ve been doing. It feels a bit *safe* to want to settle back here. I blame it on all the talk of dreams and excelling and proving oneself that we’ve all heard a thousand times before. Still, I don’t find it any easier.

So, consider me still in limbo. Assume that I’ve no answers, for assuredly I’ll let you know the moment I do.

Last night was a bust. Fortunately there was one other person roughly my age with whom I had an intelligent conversation, else I’d have left much earlier. I was the only person from my class. Ick.

Tonight is Mrs. Jardine’s choir’s concert – I plan to go for a little bit and meet up with some old choir buddies whom I’ve not seen in… 7 years? Also dinner at Boccali’s with my dad and de facto big sister Amy.

Carmina Burana CDs and DVDs came. I am now reliving the glory of Bibit.

Today is May 30. I have tomorrow through Sunday off for a class reunion that’s turned into just another packed weekend at home. Doesn’t seem like the rest of my class is going, either, so even if I do go it’ll be just me and the faculty, and maybe a dragged-along friend.

I gave notice at work, and since Chrissie and Heather are leaving too, we’re trying to plan a blow-out goodbye party for the deli folk.

15 days left, a good chunk of which won’t be work.

Then another 2 weeks before I’m planning to leave.

Things I’ve learned in the last week:

• Doing a kitchen’s worth of crusty dishes by hand goes much more quickly with a glass of wine and a good buddy from the old days.
• I forgive and forget way too easily.
• If you show up to a 4-H event without a task, rest (or actually don’t rest… run!) assured that you’ll be given one within a few footsteps.
• Most men are stupid. That’s why I hang out with the few smart ones almost exclusively.
• Newly sharpened knives cut right through stuff that used to be more than proof against them. Oh thumbnail, how I miss thee… now if only I could find a band-aid that wouldn’t fall off at the first sign of water…
• Things change. And change again. And change one more time so that you’re back where you’re started.
• Everyone, everywhere, will always plan all their events for the same day as everyone else. Always.
• “A few days of rest and relaxation” never ends up that way when there are other people involved.
• Murphy’s Law applies.

…They’re really far easier when they’re a bit more sudden. The last 12 months have been both the most painful and the most joyful of my life … but then again I suppose I’ve said that before now.

I feel as though my last year in Davis has been my most rewarding: I’ve found new friends, new experiences, new connections to the town itself. The transition to non-student life, however, is still incomplete, and I have to say it’s been very difficult. I’ve always identified myself as a student. Pretty much anyone under the age of 18 (or 23 in my crowd) is a student. The primary bits of information about my friends: name, gender, school, major. It’s doubly so when you’re living in a college town. There are exceptions, but essentially you’re a prospective UCD student, a current one, a staff member, or an alumnus/alumna. I always feel a little strange in choir rehearsals when a difference is made between student and non-student status. I still have to stop myself from raising my hand.

And now the change I’ve been trying to predict for the last twelve months is looming – and I’m still trying to make it an impermanent one. That is, the choice to leave Davis. I find it difficult to foresee myself living here on a long-term basis. All my experience as a student has led me to believe that the collegiate life is a fleeting one. They tell us over and over: enjoy it while you’re here, it ends far too quickly. With that in mind, I find it a little odd and yet perfectly natural and expected for me to long to stay here. At the same time, I’ve made it my home. In the last three weeks alone, I’ve begun considering other aspects of Davis life besides the University. The layers and varieties of musical opportunity are vast! There are actually people my age here who aren’t just grad students!

But Ojai is still home and I’ve always assumed that I would return there at some point, as an independent adult. The climate is better, the mountains and beach call me home every summer and winter, and the equine Western/trail-riding lifestyle there is far more comfortable than the English/jumping/dressage scene up here. If I were in Ojai, I could easily see myself resuming it. In Davis, I don’t think I will anytime soon. There are comparable restaurants, festivals, arts and entertainment in both places.

The most difficult part? The people. I have the family I grew up with in one, the family I found and created in the other. I love both, and I’m not using the word lightly here. And I find it impossible to choose.

Quote of the day:
“You’re not arm fodder, you’re mind candy.” ~ Foutz

Pre-Break
December 13: After Sandy exercises her dominion over a double final, we celebrate with a wine party. Beaujolais Nouveau, Syrah, Shiraz, and Sauvignon Blanc over about 4-5 glasses, and I was pretty gone. As always, I love my roommate for she watches out for me and my hydration needs.
December 14: A bit of a blur in the morning, but Sophie gets her rabies shot, Rainman gets some goodies, and I get the news that I can (on a technicality) graduate in June. I also manage to show my Latin final who’s da boss despite my slight haze. The much-accursed professor brought hemp brownies. I kid you not.
December 15: I conquer my Bio 1C final and pack. I am still feeling a wee bit muffled, thanks to the wine from Tuesday, but I am more than able to slap it and remind it of its place in the world. Ha!
December 16: Steven and I pack Sophie into her carrier, and my junk into the car, and head southward to warm weather and good friends.
Break I
December 17: Russ and I applaud Foggy Dew (another Irish gang) at Dargan’s (SB), then I meet Amy and Elizabeth for a night of reminiscing at their house.
December 18: The Richardsons and I leave Camarillo at 7 AM to make it through the Dizzyland gates by 9. Although the park is hardly empty, waits for the good rides are minimal, especially with the blessed FastPass. I enjoy myself heartily.
December 19-23 Quite the blurry recollections, although I know that we had the usual Trivia game at Pangea’s on Tuesday the 20th, a lunch with my dad’s work buddies on Thursday, and a tiny gathering at our place on Friday the 23rd. Much shopping and frantic preparation for a typical family holiday. Whee.
Intermission: Christmas
December 24 Not terribly much to report, other than a pleasant gathering at our place for turkey and other edibles. My dad and I took a very relaxing bicycle ride up the coast to Hobson’s Beach and back, complete with requisite photograph and reminiscing about telling a biker gang that “real men don’t need motors.” A cut-throat game of Super Scrabble and another of Tribond later, all are content except the losers. Ha ha!
December 25 Much with the chocolate and presents and whatnot. Family fun time, and a cousin I’ve not seen in a good decade. Sophie goes hog-wild with the leftover paper and curly ribbon… and hasn’t stopped yet. Fun gifts and other stories for another day.
December 26 My dad’s birthday, and a Very Sperry Christmas (although no arguments). Took Grandma on a drive up the coast to Lompoc and back, stopping at the beachside cafe in Goleta. A surprisingly relaxing and enjoyable day. Aunt Cindy and her kids (plus Uncle Richard) spend the night.
December 27 Cousin Faith wakes Aunt Cindy (story to follow later) in a most hilarious manner. Two meals out, and trivia in the evening. Whee.
Break II
December 28-30 Various trips, gatherings, lazy days, shopping, and photography. I’ll post the resulting images soon.
December 31 Torrential rain, shopping at The Oaks, and the traditional New Year’s Bonfire at the Holmes Home. Yeah, THAT gang deserves an entry allllll to itself.
Today Kinda weird not waking up to the Parade, but oh well. Music and conversation at Dargan’s (Vta) were lovely as always, plus more weirdness at Zoey’s with Jonathan McEuen.

And now, having shamelessly teased you all with tiny tidbits of titillating information, I retire to my bathtub and book. Ha.