Month: July 2014

Are YOU comfortable?

I’ve been trying to figure it out lately what I should be doing. It’s not really a “recent” issue of mine, since I suppose I’ve always been trying to figure out what it is I should be doing. Isn’t that what we’re all doing anyway?  Figuring stuff out?

I read an article recently about the definition of being “comfortable”. And should I say, this article was a BLOG post. Just so we’re clear. The only “articles” I read are from Huffington Post or from the links my “friends” post on Facebook. And I like using quotation marks (which, ironically enough, does not need quotation marks) because it helps definitively define a word that may otherwise seem blended into a sentence with hardly any meaning at all. I like to emphasize things, for I feel as though people will perk up at the sound of urgent tones just mocking the brazen ear to come closer, listen a bit harder and hear what it is that’s actually being said. So bare with me, for I only use them when I think it’s necessary.

And STOP. For just a moment. THIS: Billie Jean guitar instrumental by Sungha Jean.  Find it, somehow.

With that being said, this idea of being comfortable was brought to my attention and, like the effect so many blogs have on me, I was intrigued. It was a recent conversation between a mom and a daughter (something I can totally identify with) about what being comfortable means to them. The mom insisted that routine meant happiness because routine means you’re comfortable where you are, while the daughter insisted that routine was making her uncomfortable and also – unhappy. I can identify with the daughter.. and the mother.  But that was the struggle.  You want routine because you “think” it makes you happy, but when you finally get it, you’re tired of it and want something different.  C’est la vie! shall we say. The blogger is younger than me, but we’re both at a stage of “the drag” in routine. The despair of constant familiarity and “going through the motions” like a robot is enough to make any egg crack. But from what I’ve heard, this is your 20s. And from what I hear, the 30s are pretty awesome and I’m pretty sure you can start to make the routine work for you. That’s what I’m hoping for anyway.

My idea of “comfortable” is not exactly an idea of comfort. I want to be FANTASTIC. I want to be IN AWE. I want to FEEL things and experience THINGS and wonder if it’s possible to ever feel that way again.(?) It’s a big question and not an easy answer. Some people can make this happen for them. I struggle with it. I call myself a “hippie at heart” but then wonder where the hippie is. I see myself being somewhat “corporate” because my day job requires me to be. The same with my photography because people still “expect” something of me and what I can bring to the table to what – impress them?  What can YOU offer us? What can YOU give us? What can YOU do that will benefit US?
Attitude like this has given me my own set of snappy vibes. In the cold, hard world of give and take, you eventually want to take a bit more, because you feel like you’ve given so much. And when it comes to giving emotionally, we as a human race are emitting 200% emotional backlash out on to the world, and how is it possible to live.. no – scratch that – be HAPPY in a world that demands so much and takes even more when given the opportunity. It’s like driving in LA – give a little and someone will take that much more. Assholes.

You could assume LA has made me one cold-hearted little bitch but really, that’s just who I’ve been all along. I’ve been “comfortable”. If I were something other than “comfortable” I wouldn’t be this.  Right?  What “this” is is comfortable.  I do want something outside of the box, and I want excitement, adventure and the unknown.  But my guard IS up, and I’ve created safety nets for any failures I might have, and… I’m comfortable.  But yet so UNcomfortable, i.e. stressed, that I just keep trying to figure out what it is I should be doing.

And here we are again.

I just know – life ain’t easy.  This is it, whether we’re comfortable or not.  I like to think I’ve got it all figured out, but more problems will come my way.  If I were religious in the preach-it-sister way this is where I’d say this is all God’s doing and it’s a test of will.  Because if you can get through this, you can get through anything.  The end result is the same – religion is just  a name for it.  The way life doesn’t deal happy cards all the time means it’s a fucking test and we are making it pretty far, in my opinion.  Not all of us, but those of us – like me – really have nothing to whine about.  COMFORTABLE??  First world problems, my  man.  (Wine to my left, iPhone playing music to my right, fan circling around behind me, dinner being prepared very soon, a party out by the pool tonight if I feel like going, a bed to sleep in, a pot to piss in, and lot freakin’ more that makes America the biggest spoiled brat in the world).  Hi wine, I see you’ve entered my system.

I’m actually just happy to be writing.  That makes me comfortable, and is like Bob Marley to my fingertips.  No, woman, no cry.

Every little thing, gonna be alright.

BM1-horz

(there’s the hippie)

 

Case in point: It’s Vacation

After a fabulous mini-vacation to the Central Coast, I came home ready to write about it. Then a severe crimson wave hit and I had to surrender to my dark passenger for the last two days. Luckily my pals, Endor and Phin, kicked in today and helped pull me out of my despair. I am happy to have friends like them, even if it is up to me for us all to hang out. I keep trying to figure out what’s wrong with me, and every month it’s always the same. I write depressing would-be posts but don’t have the heart to post them. They’re depressing. They’re angry. They’re the truth of me when I’m feeling really unhappy or irritated. And what’s more depressing is it happens once a month like clockwork. I’m going to see a doctor next month. Promise.
Meanwhile, I still want to talk about my mini-vaca because it was the bestest. So while I munch on bacon cheeseburger chips and drink chardonnay, I will tell you about why Eddie and I left our hearts in Morro Bay………

#1 – It’s not LA.
#2 – It’s not Orange County.
#3 – It’s not SoCal!!!!!
#4 – It’s gorgeous, beautiful, breathtaking and if you didn’t know where you were, you’d think it was another country entirely.
#5 – It’s a small town, surrounded by other very similar small towns.
#6 – It has a rock on the beach that’s bigger than the whole town.
#7 – Fields, trees (a farm of Avocado trees no less!) and entrancing landscapes surround the outskirts of town.
#8 – There are spaces between houses. You know, because space. Unlike Socal, because, you know, NO space.
#9 – Kitty’s Kitchen and the Inn at Morro Bay Sunday champagne brunch.
#10 – 2 Bars in town. Go back, count that – I said TWO.
#11 – The Fuel Dock is the better bar. Ssshhhh.
#12 – Sailor Andy frequents the Fuel Dock.
#13 – FOG. (See also, cool weather year round)
#14 – OCEAN.
#15 – BEACH ART.
#16 – Hippies and Surfers.
#17 – What’s a stop light?
#18 – What’s traffic?
#19 – Boyer-Magri memorial (also see, where Eddie’s home in MB used to be)
#20 – Being here is like being on vacation. Case in point.

There’s a lot of reasons to counter this whole list. Like – is it affordable? Are there jobs? Is there a mall? No, no and god no (who cares about malls anyhow? I don’t). Like any other small town, unless you’re going to school or your family is there, you are lucky if you make it there on your own. There’s a reason I left Santa Cruz and somehow ended up in LA and am still living in Socal almost 10 years later. It’s not because I like it (OK I do, but that’s another post), but it’s because I’ve managed to somehow survive here. Because in SoCal, I wouldn’t say it’s “survival of the fittest”. You can survive here. It’s the small towns you actually cannot survive in with a little help. Sure, SoCal is expensive just like Morro Bay, but at least it has apartments on every corner to help you determine where you’re going to live. It has multiple areas that if one place is too expensive, the next zip code a few minutes over could just be in your price range. Because if you DON’T have family nearby, it is possible to somehow make it on your own here. Unless I was incredibly lucky to find a decent and progressive job in a small town, I’d probably be working as a waitress. But isn’t that where the weight weighs in? Sure I’d be a waitress, but perhaps I could get more photography jobs and actually build on the profession I want. Meanwhile having this beautiful surrounding country that replenishes the soul day after day, and a mere walk to the water is better than any therapist. The calm vibes of a small town doesn’t override your inner self like a bad hard drive in means to corrupt it, it just uplifts. It inspires. I want to be inspired. Being jam-packed between walls of concrete isn’t always the inspiration I’m looking for. And it’s not just the concrete, it’s the repetition.

Twice up the barrel, once down the side (see: It Just Gets Stranger). I have to accept where I am. My internal battle of wanting something better will always rage on. But this is why my friends Endor and Phin need to help me out a bit. Because it’s all a mindset. It was just vacation.

Sigh.

I need another one.  Hashtag vacation fail.  Which in actuality means it succeeded.. big time.

4th16
Cayucos, Central Coast, California

 

A Townhome Tale

The decorative trim is called Fascia. Learn something new everyday...
The decorative trim is called Fascia. Learn something new everyday…

Welcome one, welcome all to the month of July! Where the 4th will be with you, the gloom of June starts to rise and the coffee starts to sweat. Should be lovely, for Eddie and I have central AC for once in our lives and will be sitting.. but more importantly sleeping pretty.
But it will still be hot. And evidently muggy, as the last few days have proved. It’s still cool in the early mornings and evenings so that’s something. Meanwhile the rest of the country is getting lightning, tornadoes and rain so I really have no place to complain. But we’d take a few wet willies over this drought anytime.
I keep thinking about last night and the board of directors meeting we attended for our townhouse association. It was informative and quite hilarious. Not what Eddie and I expected at all. The whole meeting consisted of Eddie looking over at me in disbelief of the conversations going on. At one point he whispered (loudly) “really?!”
The board members were as old as the town homes themselves. I finally met the boss of the assistant I had been emailing for the last 2 months about the flood damage to our wood laminate floors in the kitchen, hallway and dining room. Many of the people who attended I did not recognize, but it seemed many of them were from this side of the street. Which I realized early on was probably a very good thing. The moment the last woman came through the door, she sat down and immediately started rudely answering questions over the board members. In a condescending tone, no less. The woman behind her had just asked about street parking and how does she go about getting a parking permit? It’s easy, the woman in front answered, just email Kathy, it’s not that hard. The woman behind her snapped back about how she didn’t own one, almost insinuating she didn’t want to pay for it. The bossy lady challenged her attitude to which she finally received an “oh bite me” with which boss lady responded “sure lets go outside and you can bend over”. … … FIRST 10 minutes of the meeting, you guys. Eddie and I sat there, eyes wide with disbelief and darting quick glances around the room, our jaws surely resting comfortably on the blood orange carpet that was sure to swallow us into a tangerine dream by the end of the meeting.

You think this needed a filter?! Blood orange carpet and it appears to be NEW. Oh, the horror!
You think this needed a filter?! Blood orange carpet and it appears to be NEW. Oh, the horror!

The board members faces were stone – just stern brows and scrunched mouths focused at the two hens battling it out. They knew the bossy lady all too well. She’s there every meeting. I’m sure of it.
There was another apparent regular resident attendee at the meeting. She was an older Asian lady that wore clothes reminiscent of oversized doll clothes. One that hadn’t brushed her hair in a while either. She brought up how she found a bunch of nails near her garage door and recounted the day and time she found them, including a detailed description of what they looked like and how many she found. Between that comment and more from the bossy lady about cat shit, crappy painted doors and how to point the security cameras, Eddie and I listened in awe. A big reason I’m thankful for my job is I’m not so blindsided by this kind of bullshit nitpicking. It’s still fascinating to hear what people bring to the table when you allow them to think they can help improve a situation. When you maintain a facility, you realize you have eyes everywhere and there is sometimes TOO much information being thrown your way. But nonetheless, I’m really glad we attended the meeting and let the board of directors meet us.  I think they really liked us.. because Eddie and I are such charmers!

As of today, our floor repair cost has been approved by the board, so now we just have to get through the actual work needed to replace our warped laminate.  Should be fairly painless.  Fingers crossed.  July is proving to be a good month so far.  I’m still counting down the days until the 4th.  Morro Bay, Cayucas, good friends, 4th party and the gorgeous views the Central Coast has to offer. Two…more…days!