Stuck

I mentioned in my previous post that I am feverish. The fever I am currently experiencing is from the pneumonia that I have probably had for about a week now, but was just confirmed last night.

This means, of course, that I am stuck in Summer Home Park, in bed, for at least a few more days. Lauri is playing mom to me, and letting me stay at her house, which unlike mine contains a real bed, a kitchen, and an indoor shower. Though I appreciate her kindness, this house has no privacy, something that I already sorely miss.

I was supposed to leave for Portland this morning. I used all of this morning's energy to shower, there is no way an 11 hour drive is even remotely possible.

Eventually I would like to write about my last weekend in Forestville, (yes, there were tears) but now it is time to rest again.

i think i need to go back to europe...

I have decided in my feverish state that I must return to Europe. My new travel plans:

Portland --> Montana --> Europe

Sounds just about perfect.

Portland in three weeks.

Due to my host's refusal to let me commit to less than a three months stay, I decided to head up to Portland after labor day. I have officially signed up for my class.

I went to the Sonoma fair with Olivia the other day (y'know the 13 year old), and we had the grandest of times. I know its real lame to hang out with a 13 year old as much as I do, but if you met her you would surely understand. I feel like I am the thirteen year old that I never was when I am around her, and well, she is one of the funniest people I have ever met. We rode rides, played games, watched horse races, I got my palm read, ate chocolate bacon and a variety of other interesting foods, and went home happy.

A few days ago I went to Fort Ross. Here I am on top of a rock that looks like a walrus (or so my mother thinks).

Though you certainly can't tell from the picture, Fort Ross is an exquisitely beautiful locale. I think I would like to return to Northern California one day. I love the climate and the combination of mountains and oceans and trees. I think going to Portland is going to be kind of a shock for me at first because I am not used to being anywhere near the city. I have grown accustomed to seeing more trees than people on a daily basis. Nonetheless, I am terribly excited!

I kill big bugs now,

and jump off really tall things into water.

Also,

I feel compelled to keep moving north after labor day. I found this nationally renowned writer's workshop in Portland and Justin has invited me to come live with him and his girlfriend for free while I am taking the class.

Two days ago a woman named Basha (a friend of Ruth, the woman I am staying with) called me to ask if I would come live at her farm in Marin and take care of her goats, chickens, cats, koi fish, and parrots for two months. I would have my own bedroom and bathroom, and would not have to pay rent. Two weeks ago, an artist friend of Lauri's who lives in Sebastopol asked if I wanted to come work for him and sublet a place nearby for 300$ a month. Neither place is North.

When I told my new friend Mark about the opportunity he was terribly upset that I would even consider working for another artist rather than pursuing my own art and writing. I was flattered, but it is not making my decision any easier; I am kind of terrified of being in a position where I am able, and even expected to work on my own art.

I have to tell Basha tomorrow whether I will be housesitting or moving North after labor day.

Rejection and Rejuvenation

Santa Fe said no.

The minutes before I opened the email that would decide whether I was staying or going, I found myself praying that I wouldn't be hired. As much as I had hoped and planned for Santa Fe the weeks preceding, the final minutes weirdly involved pleading for rejection.

I was still a little disappointed though; it took me a day to understand that it happened just like this for a reason. I am incredibly lucky to be spending my summer in this place and with these people (my closest friends are a 55 year old artist, pie-maker, and mother of two, a 30 year old poet on the run, and a 13 year old girl with the most incredible sense of humor).

 I am going to say something that I haven't said yet about this place, and I certainly have not said this more than once or twice in my life.

 

I am glad to be where I am. 

And now I will show you where I am:

This was my first home upon arrival in Forestville, a tent on Lauri's porch (look at that view!)

No, really, look at it:

The beach!

In other news, I have a home!!!!!

It is a small but beautiful nook off of a very kind customer's house equipped with its own bathroom and an outdoor shower. I am absolutely in love with it.

outdoor shower!

my porch

and this is just a few minutes away

I am happy.

fin.

more changes

Santa Fe finally called,  I have a phone interview set up for Tuesday at 4.

I have grown to really love this place, its people, and the way I feel when behind the gates of tall trees- BUT if I am offered the job in Santa Fe, I think that I have to take it.
_______________________________________________________________________________

I have had so many incredible revelations with the help of a new friend and the equal wisdom of my older customers and my 13 year old customers.

I feel good, I feel calm, I feel at home.

Because this place is only a summer home for most, each work week begins with a new connection, conversation, and/or friendship with a time limit. They will leave after a week, and I will probably never see them again.

Since I mostly only work the 6-2am shift now,  I have my days free. I have been back to the city twice now to visit Jack, I have been to Jenner by the Sea, Bodega dunes, the neighboring vineyard, engaged in incredible conversations with a fellow journey-er, and most importantly, I have thought and thought and thought.

This place, this time, and this company is exactly what I need right now, the month before I begin again.

homesick

Yesterday was a difficult day in the ville of forests. I am terribly homesick, and am experiencing this push-pull thing from Virginia again. I am lonely here, I don't have any friends, I don't know if there are even any friends to be had here, and I am a little heartbroken.

Before my shift at work, I was sitting on a bench by the water, when a little girl, probably about 5 or 6, appeared out of the forest and sat down right next to me on the bench. She looked at me in curiosity as I was crying, and then tapped my shoulder and handed me a pistachio. I managed to blubber a "no, thank you" through my tears and then she rubbed my shoulder and skipped off. It was a wonderful moment.

Only a few minutes later, as my new boss was opening up the bar, he asked me what was wrong. Of course, as soon as you think you have collected yourself enough to be out in public, all someone has to do is ask you what is wrong, and you completely fall apart. Kevin, whom I have only known for about two four hour shifts, gives me the biggest hug I can ever remember receiving, poured me a beer and told me to explain it all. Another wonderful moment.

This hug thing was an especially big deal for me. I hadn't been hugged in such a long time.

A friend of mine once told me a story about how she experienced a period in her life where she was so desperate to be touched that she would walk out into large crowds just so she could "accidentally" bump into people. I don't want to reach that point, I might start hugging my bar customers...

Its so funny how since I have been away from home each day my emotions have turned into San Francisco weather. One day will be bright and sunny and 70 degrees, the very next day will be grey and raining and 50 degrees. Hopefully today will be better than yesterday, and the next day will be even better than today.