Leaving California

I'm leaving California tomorrow. And, for once, I am 0% sad. That says a lot--I usually cry very sad tears as I leave San Diego each time, lovingly wondering when fate will have me return. Not so tomorrow--they will be tears of joy. I have not-so-affectionately called this corner of the country "the armpit of California" because of how awful it is (in addition to its geographic sandwiching in the middle of southern California), but no need to drivel on about this again. I've done that enough...see previous posts.

For the last 6 weeks (including the time when I vacay'd to Chicago), I have been living in a travel trailer in the hills of Orange County, California, just on the edge of the Cleveland National Forest. It is a lovely place, quiet and secluded...but with no internet and NO cell phone reception (we're talking, "Searching for Network..." all the time, no signal, EVER. It's been a little scary, but also a little invigorating. I've had my satellite radio and my cat to entertain me.

Oh, and a swarm of bees around the top of the trailer, who come to feast on the water generated by my air conditioner. 6-7 of them ended up inside the trailer one morning (AAAAAAAHHHHH!!! I'm TOTALLY bee phobic!!!) and so my last week has been spent dealing with posttraumatic jumpiness & insomnia over bugs. And several dates with aluminum screening to seal up vents and such, so that more bugs can't get in. It didn't help that my next-door neighbor said he "bombs" his trailer once a week to prevent the infestation of spiders because, he says, the brown recluses are out now and they could KILL my cat. Shist.

But, yes, here I go on another adventure. Back to Chicago for an indefinite period of time. So much for a year of research experience. This old hag is too old to be volunteering for extremely disorganized twenty-somethings who can't relate to the need to work for a living. I skipped out on my apartment (likely fucking up my credit), turned into trailer trash, did a whole hell of a lot of massage for less money than I've made since I was in massage school, dealt with drama at my teaching gig, hopefully didn't burn any bridges, learned that I don't widely like California (only San Diego), and that I don't think that I want to pursue a PhD at UC Irvine. In fact, I am planning to exclusively apply to doctoral programs in San Diego, and maybe Arizona or New Mexico, so that I can spend the early part of my mid-adult years in a place that I actually like.

It's hard to be picky.

And I want to desperately be able to enjoy the cross-country journey of this upcoming road trip. But my anxiety gets the best of me most of the time. Time to accept that I'm just a Nervous Nellie? I'd still like to hold out some hope....

Here are some pics from my last CA adventure. First, a glimpse of the GPS as I approach the campground/RV park (a blank slate on the GPS!!):



A view of the hills from the park, at sunset:


And the winding road leading to the park, where motorcycles and bicycles love to play: