I'm back in Upstate NY only a day later than planned. I got to spend Saturday night in Atlanta. We're here now though. Now I get to start looking for a house. But not a house that costs money, and not a house that's more than a few years old, and not one that's more than 30 minutes from where my husband will be working.
Fun

I like travel, but I really don't like airports. I especially don't like airports if I'm flying with my kids. My father-in-law flew with me so that was a big help but it still was a long trip. And everyone on the plane was coughing. I'm starting to think people do it to mess with me. They wait until there's news of a big flu outbreak and they all start coughing just to freak me out. (Not really, I'm not that paranoid. I'm sure they weren't faking. They probably just really had swine flu.)

We're here now though. We're home. Ish.

lazy

I like writing, I really do. I look forward to it all day. I do dishes while turning phrases over in my mind, just waiting for a chance to put them down on paper. I fold laundry while thinking of a perfect word. But then when I finally get a chance to write, all I want to do is sit and do nothing. Know why I'm writing a blog entry right now? I'm trying to put off packing and washing dishes. Sigh.

find yourself

So, people come to California to find themselves. It's like a cliche. The second half of the cliche has them failing horribly and leaving broke and in disgrace. You know the story.

Well I never wanted to move to California. I don't like the beach, I get sun burn, and fires and earth quakes scare me. I didn't have any real interest in "finding myself" either. I was pretty sure I wasn't lost. But to California I went. (The things we do for love...)

Well a funny thing happened one summer- I got happy. Like the content, confident, I have a handle on life sort of happy. It happened by accident. I was living alone (mostly) for the first time in my life, it was sunny, and I was walking every day. I was listening to the music I liked, buying Phish Food ice cream every week, and dancing in my living room with no one to laugh at me. I wasn't supposed to be happy. Based on the other things in my life I was probably supposed to be balled up on the couch crying, but for the most part I was happy. I didn't even notice I was happy at the time. I just was.

Well I'm leaving California in a few days, also not by choice. (The things we do for love.) And while I'll never like its crazy drivers or its constant threats of burning down I think I'm going to miss this crazy place. Thank you California. Thank you for me.