So: here I am, all moved in and headed in the direction of being “settled.” I’m almost two months into the new job, and I’m generally finding my way around Marin County better and better all the time.

I’ve actually had a little time here and there over these last two weekends to see that leisure time is once again an occasional possibility. I’ve polished off a couple of novels sitting outside in my new lounge chair — so it appears that the stressful overload of moving and totally changing my life is about to be a thing of the past. (That is to say, things will now likely settle into more manageable and normal levels of work and health-related stress.)

However, as the perpetual adrenaline rush associated with these last few months of frenzied activity goes away, I’m recognizing a feeling of being a little on edge. Actually, what I’m experiencing is a renewed sense of emptiness. For here I am, in a new state, in a new town, in a new job: completely alone.

The silence is eerie. The phone keeps not ringing. The space once occupied by best-friend Katrina is presently a void. Her unique ring tone goes unused and unheard. And, the presence of unstructured time allows for old and familiar emotions to creep in. Feelings of loss and sadness are now my constant companions.

Still, the (ten-year-old) question remains: is she gone forever this time?

Round and round she goes, where she stops, nobody knows…

Soundtrack Suggestion

Unrequited love’s a bore, yeah,
And I’ve got it pretty bad.
But for someone you adore,
It’s a pleasure to be sad.

Like a straying baby lamb
With no mama and no papa,
I’m so unhappy, yeah…

But oh so glad.

(“ Glad To Be Unhappy ” – Mamas and the Papas)

Here is an excerpt from a short missive that came in by email from a reader in Oregon…

There is a lot of humor in your blog. I hope you can see it. Is it not supposed to be funny? …Thanks for sharing all of your hopes and fears with the entire world … You sir, are in a word, a handful . I mean that in the politest and most complimentary way. Your world view is so prickly (ala Mark Twain)…

Yes, yes, yes (!) dear reader…I hope you are able to share in the soap-opera humor that seems to be my life. I know I perhaps come across as deadly serious at times, but I suspect that those of you who know me best can “hear” my voice and know that there is mostly a lightness there…trying to take things as they come, turn them upside down, and then talk about them…in an embarrassingly public way.

Thanks for reading!

It was exactly two months ago today, July 2, that I arrived here in California to take possession of my apartment in Larkspur. I started packing up my boxes for this latest move the first week of June, and have been basically living from cardboard containers ever since…until last weekend, that is. I have finally unpacked the last of my things, put the artwork up on the walls, and reorganized my rented storage area. And I’ve had the apartment thoroughly cleaned by my new housekeeper for the first time. As of now, I’m officially “moved-in.”

I would like to say that I’m “settled” (as in: “Jim, are you all settled in yet?”), but that’s not really the case. There has been too much stress associated with moving to a different state and taking on a new, high-stress job to (in all honesty) say that I’m settled. But, being unpacked and moved in feels like good progress along that path, I must admit.

To be “settled,” I think I need a little more time to adjust culturally. The change I’m experiencing by moving from an ultra-conservative, economically-depressed community in southern Oregon to a liberal county with the highest per-capita income in the U.S. has been mind-blowing, to say the least.

And that’s not to say I’m not enjoying it here. Because I am. Believe me, living in a place that is on the liberal cutting-edge is quite refreshing. What an incredible relief that I’ve found my way here!

But I experience a good deal of preoccupation, and some degree of angst, about how different this place is, too. For one, I am continually reminded of the high cost of living: everything costs more here, and sometimes it’s way more expensive. Just this morning I went to the nearest car wash, for example, and paid $19.99 for the most basic service they offer. In Eugene, at what I think is the most pricey car wash in the city, the cost is less than half of what I just coughed up today.

And, of course, it’s the first of the month and I just wrote out another rent check. It’s a good thing I finally received a full-month’s pay: my rent is roughly two and a half times of what it was last year. Really, I can’t think of one thing that costs less here.

Additionally, one of the most interesting things that has been on my mind in the last few weeks, as I’ve been looking around trying to pay attention to my surroundings, is my perception that the residents of Marin County are a considerably better-looking lot than I’ve been around in recent times. I started out by noticing the much larger number of people sporting sun tans than are evident in rainy, cloudy, cooler Oregon. And then, as I kept reminding myself that “you can observe a lot just by watching,” I noticed that it wasn’t only the tans, it’s that people seem to look more attractive, more together, and just plain healthier here. For example, it’s my perception that there are significantly fewer obese folks around me now than there have been during the last few years.

So, it was with great interest that last Thursday I came across an MSNBC article that suggests ZIP codes are surprisingly accurate predictors of obesity. As I was able to learn, “in a study published in the September issue of the journal Social Science & Medicine, University of Washington researchers found that adults living in ZIP codes with the highest property values were the slimmest, and those living in ZIP codes with the lowest property values were the fattest.” The data presented in this study are entirely consistent with my informal, non-scientific observations of Marin County residents. With property values here that are literally off-the-charts, according to the UW research people here should be slim(mer). And they are.

My one last observation (for today, anyway) about the culture here is that the attitudes of Marin County residents tend toward elitism, entitlement & privilege. My opinion is that these Mariners know they live in an enchanted place among the rich and beautiful…and somehow these conditions give them a rather special place in society. It’s not really anything specific that anybody says…it’s just that the sense of entitlement here is palpable.

I imagine that once I’m more accepting (i.e., less judgmental) of the cultural values I’m discovering, then I’ll consider myself more “settled.”

Yesterday I took a little road trip. No, I didn’t have another enzyme bath. (The next one is currently being planned, but it’s not on the calendar yet.) This time I visited the western part of Marin County. I needed to travel to Bolinas for a short meeting at the College of Marin Marine Biology Lab…a rather ancient facility owned by my current employer.

Yes, this time Saturday was a workday. At least I got to see the ocean for the first time in a long time, though.

I had been told that Bolinas is quite the little community. One of the elements of the town’s culture is its isolationist tendencies. Residents mostly just want to be left alone, and they like being off the beaten path. Everyone I talked to, when I mentioned that I was going to Bolinas, informed me that people from the town regularly tear down the road sign on Highway 1 that points would-be visitors to their little burg. Indeed, yesterday when I took the turn-off, I noticed there was a post but no sign. (Luckily, I had a co-pilot, as well as a navigation system, that knew the way there.)

I also learned that the San Andreas Fault runs the length of the Bolinas Lagoon, just a thousand feet from where I stood on Wharf Road. It’s prime earthquake territory, as is just about everywhere I am these days. (I just try to not think about that too much!)

The photo at the top of this entry shows an informal, mid-Saturday-morning gathering of Bolinas residents on the dock owned by the College.