decompressing

by doing laundry, listening to Jack Johnson's live album, wondering if I should clean up the piles of paper on my desk, centering myself in the here and now.

Most people fantasize about traveling or doing exciting, adventuresome activities. I dream about being alone in a quiet house and puttering around. A lot of mending would get done. I still have boxes to unpack; we moved in April, for crying out loud. I need to spend a couple of hours sorting out the kitchen without interruption, really loud music blaring in the background. Something along the lines of LCD Soundsystem or early Green Day or The Clash. And the continual process of purging unneeded items, like the broken crib and the Graco travel system (for those of you unschooled in the parenting arts, that's the infant car seat/strolller/carseat base combo. and I'm sure you still don't know what that means).

Tending to the house is a reflection of my desire to have an orderly life. I've been moving so fast that I haven't caught my breath for days. It's time to stop and observe. Listen.

I realized my need to slow down on a walk back to work after a very good lunch. My body was literally refusing to move at typical city pace. It was a sunny, warm, beautiful day, and I was happy on top of it. Everything was magnified: the sky was bluer, the trees a deeper emerald green, the sun and breeze pushing past skin to get to my core.

Lots of random thoughts today. All part of the decompression process.

a house in the suburbs of SF

I picked up a lease today. We found a three bedroom, two bathroom mid-century house in the southwest side of the city, known vaguely as West of Twin Peaks. There's a playground/park and a library half a block away. The light rail stop is a couple of blocks, as is the mall, which I know sounds mildly horrifying but that means Trader Joe's is walking distance. Z's school (and eventually O's school) is a long-ish walk but doable for sure. And seriously, it has a white picket fence. Woot!

I love our current place, but we're getting a little cramped in the two bedroom and one bathroom set-up. I love our landlords, who are sweet and wonderful people. But the walkability factor for this new house - not to mention the space - is irresistible. What parent wouldn't want to live near his/her kids' school?

Moving is another story. I'll look on the bright side and use this as an opportunity to further purge and declutter.

coming home

Now that we have Z into a school, we're thinking of buying a house and setting down some roots. We're not expecting to make this move for some time, though. There's the albatross of our beloved Chicago house. Even with all its sterling qualities, it will not sell at the peak price that we purchased it for. If only I could pick it up and bring it over to the west coast. It's not a huge house, but it was home for a few years and I have fond memories. 

Although we want to live near the school, it's in a fairly posh neighborhood, and housing prices are not compatible with our current situation. So we're tracking prices in adjacent neighborhoods, including the Parkside and Sunset. To tell the truth, I'm experiencing some ambivalence because I spent a good part of my childhood in these areas. I had always thought I'd never live in that area again, and to be looking at housing there is, well, weird. I never wanted to go home, so to speak. But there is some odd comfort in living in the same neighborhood: riding the N Judah, marveling at the stretch of Noriega that's become a micro Chinatown, going to Sunset Super (either location) for my comfort food cravings (fish balls...oh yeah), dim sum and roll cakes to go on Irving Street - and Yum Yum Fish is still there!

My feeling is that we'll rent a humble abode within walking distance (ideally) of school once we rent out the Chicago house and if we find something that works. Like most of the great things that have happened to me, it'll be by chance and very easy. And we can still go to the wonton house on Noriega for cheap, filling eats; the kids dig on the wonton noodle soup.

neighborhood envy

Today we crashed the playground and library of the neighborhood where we want to live eventually. It's a little posh, but then again, not too much of SF is not posh these days. The big draw is the convergence of three or four Muni train lines at the tunnel that will take you straight downtown - a beauty of a commute. Plus, the library is cozy with a separate children's room, and the playground is smallish but contained and with a bonus grassy field for running with complete abandon.

It's not to say that our 'hood is unacceptable, but having a more direct commute to the working world makes life much easier. And having a three screen  movie theater within walking distance seals the deal for us. When D-Money and I lived in Tarzana, we were a five-minute walk from the local multiplex and a quick drive from an independent movie place in Encino. In Chicago, we lived in Lincoln Square for a while and loved taking in movies at the Davis, which cost $5 per ticket - perfect. If we stayed in Chicago, we would've hunkered down in LS or headed out to Oak Park with its architectural history and - yes, you guessed it - movie theater on the main drag.

Not so much to ask for, right? Will it happen? We can only hope. And play the lottery a little more often.

just like home

The dust has settled from our near cross-country move. Camping out in an empty house for a week whilst waiting for your goods to show up was an experience. It wasn't horrible, but I have no desire to repeat it.

The kids are sharing a [very pink] room and have adjusted quite well. Better than I had hoped. They are stressed out, though. Naptimes are random and unpredictable, middle of the night awakenings more common than not, tantrums more explosive, appetites wane and wax. Despite the disruptions, they've been flexible and forgiving. It is wonderful to open the doors separating the master bedroom from the deck that leads directly to the backyard and have dinner there. The kids next door have taken a shine to my kiddos, and it's sweet to hear them playing together, albeit in our respective yards.

My happiness at being here is tempered by melancholy. I miss Chicago and the friends I left behind. I have great love for a number of people, places, and things. I'm glad that I had the opportunity to live there and to develop relationships with all sorts of wonderful characters. I have to believe that these ties I established will never be severed. We may drift apart but will come back together. I have friends from the LA years whom I've rediscovered recently. I hope that holds true with my midwest peeps. For me, it's always about the people.

shifts

Here's the story on the move.

On a whim, I applied for a job in my field for a great company that's located in San Francisco. In my mind, I thought I didn't have a shot since I live in Chicago, and this is not the kind of job for which you would recruit outside of the city. Lo and behold, I got a phone call for an interview that snowballed into a job offer. I accepted it, and have spent the last few months in cold sweats and sudden panic attacks.

Moving is one of my least favorite activities in the world. To date, I have not packed a single thing, though I have gotten rid of bagfuls of random assorted items. I have to confess that I'm overwhelmed. This would be one of the opportunities where a magical fairy being would be really, really helpful.

Z is excited about moving to San Francisco. She's looking to the future. O has no concept yet; it'll hit him after we move. Regardless, it'll be a rough year. I'm fully not expecting us to feel comfortable for a while.

I will say that, as I was randomly driving around Monday evening and cruising down streets that were slowly becoming familiar to me again, I thought, "this is home. I've run away, and now I'm coming back. but not in shame or defeat. I'm not the callow person I was when I left, and maybe I've seen far too much of a lot of things, but I'm coming back as a wiser adult. would that make things different?" I was an angry young woman when I fled for L.A., and I'm not sure how much of that anger has truly dissipated. I know better than to blame people for old wounds. Perhaps I've come back at this point in time to make peace.

karmic balance

bad:
frickin' tree in our backyard dropped a huge branch in the yard. 'twas large enough that it covered most of the backyard and took out a dead cable line.

good:
no one and nothing was seriously damaged by said huge branch.

bad:
tree has lived past its prime, according to our tree guy. so it needs to come down. no shade come summer for poor D.

good:
we'll plant another tree.

bad:
kiddos and I won't be around to enjoy the new tree.

good:
but the robins and squirrels will.

eaten alive.

For the first time in years, I'm being attacked, gleefully, by mosquitoes and other blood-sucking critters. It may have something to do with the torrential rainfall we've experienced here in Chicago lately; them skeeters like humidity and pools of standing water. I've slaughtered three that I found in the house today. Hell, it's not enough that I'm feeding the little bastards - they want to hang out here rent-free? Forget it.

calling child services

We had a big Memorial Day bash at the house today that was designed to capture everyone who didn't already have plans.

Children ranged from non-walking babies to strapping preschoolers. Nearly full nudity abounded. Mud and water play was rampant. Curious sipping of alcoholic beverages by toddler was witnessed, as was sidewalk chalk chomping. Many a child was passed out as the day drew to an end. Someone had scrawled a big "Thank You" with baby-drool covered chalk on the concrete walk. The grass was littered with food that even the rogue squirrels terrorizing the 'hood won't touch.

So all in all...success!

so effing good

If you people haven't gotten your hands on a copy of Wilco's "Sky Blue Sky" yet, what the hell are you waiting for? GO DO IT NOW. For God's sake.

Plus, Tweedy lives near me. Nyah nyah nyah!