(spotted on the way to Point Reyes Seashore)
Yesterday I had the day off from work. It's my first "weekend" off from work since I've been here. It flew by as if I wasn't even there, as if it was trying to get away from me. I slept in far past when I ever sleep in, almost to 10:30, even after being woken up early by repeating car alarms right outside our bedroom window at 6:20. They were going off so much that I went out to the parking lot to try to help the neighbor that was having all the problems. I don't know why I didn't just call the police and report that my neighbor's car was getting stolen. The police would have, at least, got her to stop trying and subsequently setting off the alarm, something that my visit most decidedly did NOT accomplish, though not for lack of trying.
The neighbor is a nut. This was my first interaction with her but my wife had a previous interaction that set the tone for how our relationship with her will unfold. Perhaps I will go into more detail on it some other time. I don't have it in me to write a screed again on my California experiences.
One funny thing has emerged from going back to work: a fellow employee there told me that his sister works in California's premier sex shop, Good Vibrations. Hilarious.
This morning I read an article in Wired magazine that says that studies on the female orgasm are still inconclusive, that they make little evolutionary sense. They are apparently not elusive enough to limit studying, but more that they serve no apparent evolutionary purpose, that they exist merely because women and men share so much biology. It would be nice to finally get some clarity on this matter... No, I jest. It is merely an area of concentrated curiosity.
Each day here seems more beautiful than the day before, or at least is its equal. There is nothing but perfectly clear blue sky from horizon to horizon, or what would be horizon if there were not beautiful golden hills rolling in all directions, peppered with lush green trees and occasional vineyards. It's as if I walked into a dream. Even when it is hot, which it was yesterday, it is not humid and unpleasant. Yesterday it got up to 93 degrees but we never even noticed, we had the windows open, there was a nice breeze all day. Not once did we even consider turning on the air conditioning, at home or in the car. Perfect.
Each night for the last few nights I've watched the growing moon move further and further across a crystalline sky towards fullness. After living in New York for so many years it is quite a novelty to be able to just look up and see the moon without impediment of any kind. Even being close to sea level it is clear in a way that I had almost forgotten it could be. It is as beautiful and untouchable as I remember it.
Here is a song I love that equates the moon with a lover that can not be held.
We love it here, but there are adjustments to be made.
California is like a dream, but filled with people that you don't want in your dreams. Or, so I claimed a few days ago. It has been a little bit of a culture shock moving here. I had thought that once we got out of New York we wouldn't be subjected to such a high degree of aggressive self-importance any more. Nope. It's projected in a slightly different way here but the result is the same. It's almost as if a handful of NYC subway commuters were set free in paradise, then given cars. Each individual is further away from you, so you don't feel as cramped, but any one of them could potentially do much more damage, and they've figured that out. They've also figured out that they are not only dangerous in their cars but that they are also protected. So a slight sense of selfishness quickly grows into an unwieldy attitude.
I have felt more in danger riding my bike here than I ever felt in NYC. The people here drive like NY taxi drivers, with very little regard for the life of a bicycle rider. More than once already I've had somebody pull over to the side of the road while I was between their car and the side. I suppose it's just a given that I will seek to preserve my life and move out of their way by doing so.
I'm trying not to develop ride-rage, but it is a struggle at times. The angry head of a New Yorker emerges and I see blood-visions, find my animal spirit, etc.
(Point Reyes National Seashore)