Sometimes I have a very hard time writing here.

Sometimes it’s out of not wanting to share, or maybe it’s shame for how things are not exactly how I want them to be in my life. As though by not speaking I can ignore the low spots. But in so doing I most assuredly ignore the high points as well.

Part of it I’m sure is this transient life I have been leading with Leah. We were in a motel in Sherman Oaks for a few weeks, on the verge of moving in full. We were within an hour of the kids at that point. I was unemployed and bridging the gap – living partly in San Diego and partly Sherman Oaks and spending a lot of time in Moorpark looking for housing and learning the town.

Due to our circumstances, we had a very hard time finding a house to live in. Everything seemed to be too expensive, or unlivable, or too small. On one house we had the guy renting us the house, an agent himself, refuse to give us his last name while he asked for a ~$5000 Cashier’s Check. The house may have been perfect, but we had no use for this shifty man. Another house had a fountain in the dining room with an atrium. Then another was rented to a family member. The usual seemed to be that someone with better credit would beat us out. Weeks passed, and we landed at…

ExtendedStayAmerica in Burbank. Nice enough, save the fact that there was no broadband there, and I started a new job, telecommuting, and there was no broadband there. So I worked in the office, and my hourlong commute from Burbank to Mid-Wilshire amplified my feelings of failure. I hate commuting. If possible, I would not have to drive more than a few minutes to work. My first “serious” job was as a Respiratory Therapist at the University of Virginia in Charlottesville. I chose an apartment complex that was about a mile away. That I would call a “best-case” scenario. The Burbank commute was no fun. We stayed there for several more weeks, with our 2 plates and 16 utensils and a saucepan and a frying pan, and I began to get stir crazy. Eventually we found…

a big Apartment complex in Woodland Hills, California. It’s big. It’s impersonal. The advice they give you is that if you have to call 911, call security first because Emergency Personnel get lost if they have to come into the complex and try to find things on their own. But they have good net access, work is not too terrible, and financially things are stabilizing for us. With wonderful letters of employment and with more than a little help from members of our family, next week Leah and I move to…

Simi Valley. We have a 2 year lease on a 4 bedroom house about 15 minute drive away from the kids. Not precisely what we had in mind, but the price is competitive for the area, and it feels right. The neighborhood seems to be top-notch — there’s a common area park with a lake, basketball courts, a baseball diamond, lots of green, and views of the rolling hills and mountains. We’ll be about a 10 minute drive from the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library, which I suppose is a perk.

Sometimes things are hard. Sometimes things seem insurmountable. Oftentimes, the real courage and strength is in seeing that things take time, and that patience pays off. Leah is the perfect person to learn this stuff with.

Yeah, I learned it before too. But part of life is I suppose that we learn and re-learn things our whole lives.

This week I’m going to try and blog every day and catch up with myself.

Hey y’all… take care.

Mr. Kelly Abbott, a pal of mine, maintains a website at great-jones-street.com, and it appears that he’s updating it semi-regularly.

Don’t miss Glenn’s Girls, about his father, Roswell, UFOs, and life.

Brian Wilson – Our Prayer/Gee; Heroes & Vilains from Smile.

Ben Folds – Still Fighting It from Rockin’ The Suburbs

Music is the BEST.

An idle thought:

I would be very interested to see a chart of things which may be indicators of my mental state. Some possible questions:

How clean is the inside of my vehicle?
How long has it been since I blogged?
When was the last time I sat down and read for enjoyment?
How many items do I have that I am meaning to put in postal mail?

Not a complete list, mind you.

We move into the new place Saturday. Whether we’ll move everything in that day remains to be seen.

We have the kids. I have a pickup to get basics.

On the agenda:
– Utility/Electricity
– Utility/Internet
– Refrigerator
– Moving Truck (assuming we want to do the whole deal this weekend and can get a truck)

Further out:
– Washer & Dryer

It’s going to be fun.

(For best effect say that like Peter O’Toole said it in Lawrence of Arabia)

So now I’m posting this from a motel — the studio apartment we’re in for a few more days in no way fits Leah, me, and the 4 kids. So now we’re split into two parts, rejoining together tomorrow.

We really are leading an interesting life.

A new day begins! Huzzah!

Feeling pretty good all-in-all.

Time to shower and start the day!

While I am working, I had to take a microbreak and say that my stepson Devon is practicing the Saxophone, and that this makes Bas absolutely terrified. Not that Dev ssounds bad, but the sound has a definite power in this studio apartment.

The cat has retreated to the closet till the jazzy noise clears away.

Fun fact: Dev is allergic to cats, so Bas is sure to reap some revenge.