I recently had the text exchange above with a friend of mine here in town. It is true...I got a new job and it's in Utah. Unfortunately, that means that I have to leave Southern California. I grew up in the North Coast area of San Diego and we have lived for the past 9 years (almost) here in southern Orange County.
That's a long time. The new job was pretty much a fluke. I happened to see a job posting online that intrigued me and the process moved swiftly along. I feel like it was pretty much a miracle, but since I accepted, I've been rushing to get the Big Move completed. It hasn't been easy. Fortunately, it's almost over.
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| This San Clemente sunset is a metaphor |
As I have contemplated leaving California, I have had to come to grips with all the great things I love about living here and will miss after the move. Of course there is great weather. And the beach. Beautiful scenery. Not to mention year-round warm temperatures. But I have come to realize that I will miss the people--both friends and family--the most.
As I sat in church on Sunday, I realized that it was my last Sunday in that ward (i.e., congregation). I looked around the chapel and saw many individuals and families who had done countless acts of service and show true Christian love for me and for my family. It would be impossible (not to mention incredibly ungrateful) to not be humbled by the sheer volume of acts of kindness, goodness, and generosity that have blessed us during our time in San Clemente. And it will be impossible to repay them. But those selfless acts have formed a bond that will link us together even though we may move many miles away.
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| The view from my favorite "room" in my house |
But enough of this sappy stuff...
The move itself has gone as well as it could go, I suppose, but that isn't saying much. I hate moving. The packing, the junk, the garbage, the carrying of boxes, the dust, the feeling that you would never have imagined that your house could have crumbs and dirt and lost toys littered under every piece of furniture and in every crevice and corner of the house.
It's embarrassing to have the movers come in and see the disorganized state of chaos. I have consoled myself by being convinced that our house is not "as bad" as other houses that they may see on a regular basis--since they are moving "professsionals" after all.
I may be right (that there are other houses in far worse shape), but that isn't really saying much. The whole moving process makes me feel like I should be a candidate for the tv show "Hoarders." I take a perverse pleasure in throwing stuff out. It would blow your mind some of the stuff that I "found" while going through the packing process.
I feel a bit like Mark Twain, who has been famously credited with remarking that he would have written less, but he didn't have more time. (Meaning that it takes time to refine, rewrite, and edit good literary prose.) It takes time to pack less stuff. Time that I didn't have. So I just told them to pack it all. #everythingmustgo
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| It didn't all fit...sadly |
Here's some of the other stuff that I've been doing to relieve some of the stress from moving....
Saturday:
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| Poor Visibility at T Street Beach |
The visibility was crappy on Saturday, but I wanted one more day at the beach. I have noticed that since I grew up here and live here, I don't go as much as I should. I figure I can go whenever I want, so I never do. Sad but true.
So I took a break from returning crap, packing, and making about 37 trips to Goodwill to go down to the beach real quick. There was a layer of coastal fog, but the water was surprisingly warm. In part, my new Oakley wetsuit/rash guard probably helped keep me warm.
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| New Oakley Surface Tension Jacket--Hapari Compression Shorts |
I caught some really decent waves while bodysurfing. Maybe bigger than I ever have before. One of the nice ancillary benefits of doing triathlons is that I'm a much better swimmer than I ever have been in the past and I think that helped. I've never been--and still am not--a surfer, but I enjoy bodysurfing. There is something awesome about the power of the ocean as those waves propel you toward the shore. It helps give you some perspective on things. Plus, even though the sun wasn't out, the beauty of the waves and the ocean is undeniable.
I may have to try and sneak away from work this week for one more excursion to the beach before I pack up the car and head out. Don't tell my boss! I will definitely miss this, but I'm glad that I can still come back to visit. :-)
Monday:
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| #43 is officially retired |
I know that I said that we won the championship last week--and we did--but a new season started and the first game was on Monday night. I felt like I could use (yet another) break from packing, so I asked if I could play one more time. My Latham teammates seemed happy to have me back.
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| This is what my finger looked like today...one day later |
It was a fun night, even though I jammed my finger pretty severely in the first few minutes of the game. It hurt a lot and I had to be conscious of it--dribbling, shooting, giving five to my teammates--for the rest of the night. It's been a while since I've jammed a finger that bad, but it's an occupational hazard of basketball. There is definitely some bruising and it may be a while before I can bend my finger properly, but I wasn't going to let it ruin my night.
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| Brooks' Dodgeball Injury Had Him Passing Out in the Ambulance |
I can tell you what I didn't do. I didn't "pull a Brooks" from the Bachelorette last season. Brooks tweaked his finger playing dodgeball and had to be life flighted in a helicopter to the E.R. He passed out along the way, but I think that may have been due more to his embarrassment at having to wear those ugly dodgeball uniforms. Still it was disappointing to see what a wimp he was. I guess it foreshadowed his ignominious exit from the show.
Like I said, I didn't have the time to summon an ambulance for a mere finger injury. I soldiered on and we won the game 65-47. After the game, I asked the scorekeeper how I did. He told me: "38 and 17." I had to ask him again because, while I thought I had played decently, I didn't know what he was referring to. Turns out I had 38 points and 17 rebounds. I feel like that's a pretty solid effort and an opportunity to go out on a high note. :-)
Since I don't know when, if ever, I'll play organized hoops like that again, I am posting the box score from the game:
Gratuitous Kids Shots:
I've rambled enough. Somehow, some way, this move has happened. I admit to feeling overwhelmed at times, but I've had some good help. Most importantly, J. and her mom put in a ton of work sorting stuff into the "KEEP"; "JUNK"; and "GOODWILL" piles. I can't thank them enough.
I've also had friends bring food, cookies, and even offer to let me stay in their homes (since all the beds have been gone since last week!). Apparently it does take a village to move all of our family crap. I'm just grateful that we live in an awesome village.
Now for the kids:
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| M. looking for his blanket in the dryer. I don't think I can really call him Baby M. anymore! :-( |
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| We're both exhausted. And this doesn't happen nearly enough. |
