Falling Off A Cliff, Part II

We left for SD on Wednesday morning, both Mom and I driving our respective cars because she's hauling some furniture down here for me. We only went about 400 miles the first day and we stopped in Needles, CA for the night. Fortunately Mom had the foresight to call and remind me to fill up the tank before crossing into CA. I couldn't believe the difference in the gas prices! I was bitching about it being almost $4 in NJ, and it stuck around the $3.80/gallon range coming across, but once we went over that state line the price skipped 4s altogether and zoomed up to $5.29 per gallon for the "cheap" stuff! That was my first "uh oh." I held out hope that it was that high because of the remote location and luckily, it is actually a little cheaper in the bigger cities, but not by much: $4.59/gal on average here. And even so, the smog over this city is positively gross. I don't know why people think the pollution is less than L.A. It looks just as bad or worse to me.

They stop everyone at the state line to ask if you have any plants, fruits, vegetables, or animals in the car. I remember them doing that in Arizona too when we moved there. I knew the chinchillas were allowed in CA, but I wasn't sure about the lizards so I didn't mention Spunky and I hid Geco's cage in my suitcase just in case. Turns out they only ask you and they don't really check anything so there was no problem there, but I have to wonder what the point is of stopping everyone to ask if you're not going to do anything to enforce the rules? I'm grateful they don't, but it seems a bit pointless, doesn't it?

We snuck the animals into the hotel again even tho it's a pet-friendly hotel. "Friendly" usually only extends to dogs and cats, because that's what most people are comfortable with. When you mention you have an 8-pound iguana and 4 chinchillas (and a gecko, altho she's the least of my worries), they get a funny look on their faces and the bill hits the roof because they charge per animal.

So I've reached the geographic goal, but I'm terribly disappointed with San Diego. Disappointed enough to want to run back where I came from crying, even though that would be one big ass crow I'd have to consume. Seriously. I called the moving company to see if they could take my shit off the truck, but it's too late. This is a good reason to avoid expectation like the plague, folks. Most times the reality will not live up to the fantasy you've created in your head. I know this from too much experience, and STILL I have some kind of special talent for fucking myself anyway. It's also a good reason to visit the places you think you want to live before you lay out several grand on moving there. I mean, DUH.

I'm trying to stop resisting it. I'm trying to just go with the flow. Be here now. Live in the moment. I hear all the right things in my head, but my heart ain't buying it yet.

When I can manage to step outside my own drama for 10 seconds, I know I suck royally at transitions plus I'm under the gun to find housing which is a lot of pressure and I'm frustrated because I don't know the area yet. So that part of my brain is all "give it a chance, it'll work out fine in the end." However, there is another part of me that truly hates, deep down, everything this kind of place represents with its big box retailers, six-lane roads, rude drivers, and too much unconscious population. THAT part of me is horrified that I'm going to have to participate in this kind of suburban living. That stuff is way more prominent here than back in Midland Park. It totally rubs me the wrong way, and I'm not sure there's enough environmental consciousness, holistic healing, and spiritual practice in SD to counter that. I hope I'm wrong. Right now even the rude, harried, northeast seems more evolved. AAAGGGGHHHH. More evolved than me maybe. C'mon Trayce, are you the Coyote or the Road Runner? I know it's just my perception. I need to quit my bitching. I asked for this. I traveled 3000 miles to be here. Other people would sell their soul to be here. I made it happen. It's mine, now I need to own it. I suck no matter which way I turn today.

This brings to mind a plaque for the wall I saw the other day: Faith makes things possible, not easy. I'm glad I didn't have to buy it to remember it.

I'll get over myself once I find a place to hide out and observe for awhile. I'm just feeling exposed and stupid and bewildered and out of sorts. This must be what animals feel like when they get transported to an unfamiliar area and "let go." I wonder if an actual physical death feels this overwhelming?

Tonight I'm thankful that:

• the temperature here is as awesome as expected;
• Midas made my brakes right for no charge under warranty and they gave me a free oil change;
• I made it safely all the way across the country with six animals;
• I am not alone here right now; and
• I found one house I could see myself living in even if it's out of my price range.

Meep meep. :)