One week into LaLa land

When we last met here I was freshly landed in Orange County and the world was my oyster. (What the hell does that expression mean anyway? The world is a slimy aphrodisiac? ) Now I have had a week to experience California by myself -- well, mostly and I'm still on the same track that I started from. I need to get my condo sold and close by the end of August and move out here the first of September. I have looked at twenty apartment complexes in Huntington Beach, Costa Mesa, Irvine and Newport Beach and there are a couple I could do okay in. My original target location was Huntington Beach close to the water, but after looking at a dozen complexes I realized that there hasn't been an apartment built there since 1975 and all the renovating in the world won't change a sow's ear into a silk purse. Actually the very first place I looked at was a much newer complex in Irvine that I liked, so I went back and looked to see if the builder of that one had others available. Well it seems that the Irvine Company owns half the city so they have lots and lots of places. A bunch of which are new and don't feel nearly as claustrophobic as those 70's places I was in. The final piece of the puzzle was being directed to a Rental Living office which manages 120 properties. Lovely little Mary interviewed me and set me up with five places I might want to visit and I did just that. The place I like most is by the Irving Spectrum Center, an open air mall next to a sports arena and an IMAX. So I think I know where I want to live and can afford it, maybe.

One big factor is surprisingly the number of planned community activities. You know the kind of stuff that I avoid like the plague in my own complex back home but now is center stage in my quest to make friends. Yes, a girlfriend would be nice, but a couple good friends would fit the bill just as well. At least that sounds good and I am trying to convince myself.

Now let's go back to something Denise said when we arrived here in early June after driving across country. "It seems like a different country." Boy, does it ever! Obviously the weather is better, but not just better. It's in a whole separate category of better. On the coast it's always sunny and pleasant year round. The whole environment and culture is built around the weather. That's why there are 22 bajillion people out here. The people are noticeably different from Midwesterners. They're friendly but seem superficial. They're not as polite as we are in the Midwest. But the punch line is that even if it is a different country that doesn't mean I can't live here. I can adapt as much as I need to and since I'm a cranky old man I can say, "Fuck you and the horse you rode in on" if I don't like the way someone acts toward me.

The experiment continues. I'm here for ten days to see how I feel; to see how it feels; and to decide if it feels right to try it. I've got lots of notes and have been very observant about those things that could be deal killers. The biggest obstacle remains making friends. That will only be determined when I try it, and it's totally under my control to put forth the effort.

On the other hand. Denise and I were walking through the open air mall near my home-to-be and I was thinking "Is this just of those impulsive things that Jim does from time to time only to fall flat on his face?" You know, like proposing to M or going to law school at Georgetown. I would say "Yes it is." But that doesn't mean I should stop and return to reality. Fuck reality. I live reality every day with these half-assed illnesses of mine. Just today I did something to my pacemaker while I was doing Yoga exercises that caused the damn thing to flare up again (I'm taking about the pocket in which it sits.) Then I had a panic attack and had a horrible morning riding out the panic. It took every ounce of mental energy I have to convince myself that this is not the first step in my next trip into the O.R. to have the pacemaker removed and replaced. That's major surgery and it's dangerous. That's the kind of shit that I deal with every day it seems sometimes. It can wear your ass out. So I'll chose fantasy over reality right now. I can be practical for the rest of my life if this doesn't work. All I can say is "Knock this off my shoulder. I dare you."

Know what I mean?

In 45 hours I'll be on my way back home to Michigan. Will it be the last time Michigan is my home?

Thanks for spending time reading my stuff. Guess what the picture above is.