A Little on Transition

I am late posting this week because I spent Sunday and Monday in Napa with Alysia, Erica and Nicki. I will post some pictures and words about our long weekend together eventually. I was a lazy camera woman, so I have to wait until the two tourists get their shots online. I am in the mood to talk about something else, anyway: Homesickness.

Until this week I feared that admitting I have any homesickness would diminish the confidence I have in our decision to move here. But nothing is that simple. Denying my negative feelings about our transition would only cause them to show up in other, probably more negative, ways in my life.

The truth, I am realizing, is that homesickness is inevitable. How could we take of and settle down in a place so far away from what we know without any mixed emotions? Realizing this now, I have decided that homesickness and I are going to be friends. We're in a getting-to-know-each-other place now; eventually I hope to find out how we can make our relationship symbiotic.

I will explain by starting at the beginning...

The move out here has been thrilling. We rolled into town and landed an amazing apartment within a week. Instead of noticing all the downsides of the place after we moved in and let the honeymoon with it fade, I continue to find reasons why I love this apartment and this neighborhood. I think we live in the best part of Oakland, quite honestly. True or not, it's a good feeling to have right now.

Within that same week we found our new home, I found a job that I love. I left school and a job in NH to come out here not knowing what the hell I'd end up doing while Andy went to the office. I seriously expected to work in food service or retail. Instead, I actually get to use my writing skills at work. Much more ideal than getting to know a cappuccino machine. The number of hours I work are growing at about the rate it is taking me to sink into a California groove. I could not have imagined a better scenario.

We're on track with meeting California people, too. (Two of them have blogs that I have linked over there on the right side of the page: Andrew. Liz.) All of these new aspects in our lives stemmed from craigslist. That site scored us a place to live, a job, friends, and a dishwasher on wheels! No fighting over an overflowing sink here. I truly don't know how people relocated before Craig and the Internet. I've got to have it better than them.

I'm getting to the homesick part, hang in there...

Since moving here in April, we've already had a ton of visitors. First there was Jess, then Andy's parents, Sarah, Rob and Katie (again), and most recently Alysia and Erica. My mom is scheduled to visit next month. At this rate, we'll have had more visitors in Oakland in a year than we ever had in Nashua.

Apollo, Andy and I are as appealing (or not-so) as ever. This increase in visitor traffic is part of the nature of where we live. It's nice here--that's why we moved, so of course that's why people want to vacation here. The desirability of our new home actually makes California feel closer to New York than New Hampshire ever did. Geographically, NH is just a stone's throw from NY. Yet, for all the visitors we hosted the four years we were there, one might think an ocean, a desert and a mine field separated us. CA, on the other hand, is a mere plane ride. A pleasant cocktail in the airport, a sodoku puzzle or two, and a nap away from a weekend in exciting San Fransisco. I'm happy with this change. I love the company. When we go out of town, we feel a need to split our time in a million ways to see everyone we know and love in that place. In the end, we've had about a drink with everyone along with a stunted conversation about what is going on in our lives. We leave exhausted, hung over and wondering where all the time in our "vacation" went. It is much better to have people come to us.

I get excited in gearing up for people to come. A little nervous. A little stressed. Once they are here, I relax. I have fun. I enjoy hosting. We spend quality time with our guests. And, as a bonus, we get to share a place with them that we are getting to know as home.

The homesickness comes in at the end of these visits. Everyone hugs and we express how nice our time has been. Then our visitors get in their car, or I get in mine, and we turn and part ways. This is the moment that homesickness hits hard, like a punch in the gut. Maybe I should know they are coming, but the tears that well up and cloud my vision show up like unexpected guests. I know it will be at least a year before I will see my friends in person again. We might talk about meeting in NY for the holidays, but everyone knows that's a poor consolation prize compared to the time we've just spent together. All of a sudden the distance between the East Bay and upstate NY stretches so far a universe could fit in between me and my network. I'm not vacationing when people come to see us. I am living. All of my family and most of my friends live on the other side of this continent. This is the moment when I truly appreciate that I live more than 3,000 miles from the vast majority of people I know on this planet.

I am saved from the temptation to give into sadness by what I have here. I have my family, my two best friends. I have this beautiful area and its glorious weather. I am now part of what feels like an all-encompassing and all-accepting culture. I am surrounded by creative people that encourage me to lighten up and enrich my right brain. And, I live in one of the only places in the country where tree hugging is encouraged and Bush-loving Republicans have to stay in the closet.

I am thankful that I love it here. And, frankly, I'm proud for taking the plunge and heading out here. I think moving like this is giving me a chance to grow that I would not have had by staying in one place for life. Perhaps homesickness will remind me how important relationships are for me. It will keep me in check about calling home and checking in with all of you that live out there. While everyone is busy with their lives in the East, it is my job to remind you that I'm still here, on the Left Coast. In the meantime, I am certainly among people who understand what I'm going through. In a place this great, there's practically no such thing as a native. Everybody is from somewhere else. That's part of the charm.

Have any of you ever moved far away from what you know, too? Please, share your thoughts with me.