The Beginning of the End

Beautiful Los Gatos, California

I've decided to keep a journal chronicling my intention to move from California to Michigan. I say intention because at this point I am not 100% sure we are moving yet.

And for some reason the phrase "The beginning of the end" has been bouncing around in my head ever since we decided to consider it. I don't know if this should worry me or not. I mean, it doesn't always have to imply something ominous and foreboding does it? For example, the beginning of the end of a 15 hour plane ride would be pretty great. Or the beginning of the end of a root canal would also be something to look forward to. But I don't know. Does that seem like a weak attempt to convince myself?

Anyway, maybe I should start a little further back, and fill in a few details before get too far ahead of myself.

I live in California. I have for about ten years. And I don't like to live in California, I LOVE to live here. I love the San Francisco Bay Area. I love how I can spot home by the way the mountains bend together against the horizon. I love the town I live in. I love the summer jazz concerts under the redwoods, and the Christmas parade every first Saturday in December, and how I recognize all the homeless and crazy people in town. I love the way the redwoods and pines smell at after the first rain in the fall, and the sweet scent of the  parched, yellow grass at the end of summer. I love the familiar drive out to Yosemite and Lake Tahoe. I love the picturesque drive down the 101, and the vineyards in Napa. Oh yes, I am serious. I really love it here.

So why in the hell would I consider moving, you ask? Well, here is the thing. I do not love my job. It's an excellent job, don't get me wrong, probably the best job I've ever had. But it's not what I wanted to do with my degree. It's not what I want to spend the next 20 years doing. It has gotten to the point where I feel like the life is being sucked out of my body every time I step into the office. And I am compelled by some strange and disturbing force to notice on a hourly basis that my life is racing by as I sit and earn my living. I feel like I am in an empty room watching all the choices I can't make (because I chose to be here) fly past my window on the way to some other person or life. I know that sounds a little melodramatic. But that is how I am and that is what it feels like.

The other thing is slightly more practical and that is, it's just too damn expensive here. To buy the tiny 600 sq. ft. condo we live in would cost about $500,000, plus a $550 monthly HOA. There is literally no way we can afford to buy here...ever. We can't even afford a double-wide trailer if you can believe that. I once saw a yurt for rent here on Craigslist for $500 a month. For those of you who don't know, that is basically a tent. And it was being rented for more than most houses are in other states! AND it was in a nudist colony up in the mountains, which in my opinion should decrease the value substantially. Ri-freaking-diculous! But moving on...

I guess now would be a good time to introduce the other half of the "we" I just mentioned. That would be Eduardo, and he really is my other half. We met about ten years ago, and have been together pretty much ever since. We have almost nothing in common except we both like the Green Bay Packers and agree that the best fried calamari in town is at Steamers. Other than that we are almost entirely opposites. We don't like the same kind of music, food, activities, interests, hobbies, we don't have the same kinds of personalities, or opinions, or anything else I can think of. We don't have similar backgrounds, or religious inclinations. Our native languages aren't even the same! Yet we are great together. It's truly a mystery how we have lasted this long when we can't even agree on what tennis shoes in a display window are the coolest looking pair. Yet here we are. Maybe it's because we have fun together, and live well together (in the same cramped space) that we have made it. Maybe it's because we are honest with each other always, and know that every day is a choice to be together. Maybe it's because we never quite know what to expect from each other, and can always make the other person laugh. I have no idea. But anyway. That is who I mean when I say "we". I mean Eduardo and I. 

So anyway, this past summer we both found ourselves thinking about the same thing. And that was "Is this how we want to spend the rest of our lives?" Sure it's been great fun living here, and exploring the state, but do we really want to be living in the same 600 sq.ft. apartment, paycheck to paycheck, at our not-so-perfect jobs, five or ten years from now. And we realized the answer was no. No, we don't want to always live without a back yard or a place to store bikes. On a personal level, no, I don't want to sit at my desk at work, or go out to construction sites every week for the next decade. I want to try something else

And what are these “something else’s” that are so compelling that they tempt me to quit the best job I've ever had and journey cross-country into the unknown wilds of the Midwest? I want an adventure. I've enjoyed the stability and routine of my life lately, but I'm just itching for a little unpredictability and excitement. (I hope that doesn't come back to haunt me!) I’d like to set my own work hours.I'd also like to own a house, and flip it maybe, and be able to set my imagination and creativity free on it. And finally I want a dog, two actually. I've wanted a dog for...ever, and I've never had one and I'm sick and tired of it! I am an adult in my mid thirties goddammit! I should have a dog if I want one!

I know what you're thinking. Or at least I think I do, because half of my brain is thinking the same thing. I want to give up a pretty sweet and secure life in wonderful California for a little adventure, a house, and a dog? Is that insane? (Especially since I could accomplish at least a couple of those here.) Probably. But the answer is yes. Yes, I think I do. I'm not 100% sure. (But I don't think I've been 100% sure about anything I've done in my life.) But I think I want to give it all up, everything I've worked for here, and try something new. It sounds crazy, even to me. And it sounds risky, and scary, and will probably be fraught with unexpected obstacles and disappointments and who knows what else I am not expecting. But I still want to try. And I wonder whether this will put a strain on my relationship with Eduardo, and whether we can handle the cold, dark winters. But I still want to try. I try to imagine living without the luxuries that I have become accustomed to, that I love, that are abundant here. I think about giving up my kickboxing classes, breakfast at the Cafe, Sunday morning market and football at the LGBG, Vic Sauce, and Jazz on the Plazz. And although my resolve begins to falter a little, I think yes, I still want to try.. Or I think I do...my palms are sweaty all of the sudden and my heart is racing a little. And I wonder why I hesitated on that last "yes". "The beginning of the end" pops back in my head, and I'm back where I started. But like I said before, I don't know what it means.