Therefore, you can imagine what an heroic effort it took for me to get out of bed this morning. I mean, I’m not saying I deserve a Nobel prize or anything, but a medal would be nice. Sadly, there was no medal, only a spider on my face. That’s right, I exerted the heroic effort, got out of bed, took a shower, got out of the shower, and was brushing my teeth when I felt something on my face. Given that my hair was wrapped up in a towel my powers of deduction told me it was not merely a stray hair. And, when I swiped at my face, a spider came flying off and landed in the sink. Seriously. There was a spider on my face. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I dislike spiders. It is more than words can convey and there was a spider. on. my. face.

And, if that wasn’t enough, my electric toothbrush would then not shut off. It just kept vibrating of it own accord until we took the batteries out. And then when we put the batteries back in, it wouldn’t start. So now I have no toothbrush. And did I mention that one of the things that was making me anxious this morning was money, because we live in California, the most expensive state ever where our rent takes half of our income so there is no more money left for a new toothbrush unless it is the crappy one dollar kind that makes your gums hurt? Yeah.

And then, I picked up my hair product and it fell out of my hands into the trash. I mean, seriously. This is all in the span of about 15 minutes. On a Monday morning. Let’s talk about how we think my week is going to go.

[postscript: My husband read this post and laughed all the way through it. Yeah, that's my life.]

Having said all of that, I will say that it has been a hectic summer, which we are thankful to have survived in one piece and that the fall looks even more hectic and we’re a little scared. Adam started his new job as a youth pastor today and I, as has been mentioned multiple times now, start classes. Unfortunately, Adam’s new job is in Livermore, which is about 30 miles southeast of here so he has the car all day almost every day, which means that in order for me to get to class I have to walk a mile to the subway, take the subway two stops and then walk another mile to class, and then do the whole thing in reverse to get home. AND, while it is downright chilly here in the summer, it is in the 80s now so it is a little toasty for walking long distances with a bag full of books. Not that I’m complaining, I’m just saying …

So, until the next time Adam threatens to delete my blog, I wish you all the best and if you’re bored and like to read some books for me and take notes, let me know, I have a plethora …

But is it just me, or don’t you also think of California as the land of promise and sunshine? Perhaps it is just me.

Either way, I wish the golden referred to the rays of sun rather than the dry hills, but alas and alack, apparently all of our wishes don’t come true.

Just for an update, it was cloudy again this morning when I woke up, which made me sad; but, we went for a walk and as we were coming back the sun started to peek through and now, at 10 am, it is sunny – so apparently I just need to sleep in later and then all my problems will be solved.

And yet, despite this reasonable knowing that I did do, I still believed I was moving to the sunshine state and that it would be sunny for me because I need sunshine, and I lived in New Jersey for a year so I deserve some sun.

Obviously since I am writing this post, and put the word ‘myth’ in the title, you can see where I’m going with this, but I’m going to go there even though it is obvious: it is not warm, nor sunny in the sunshine state of California. Almost every morning we have lived in Oakland (or at least every morning last week before we vacated for Mexico), we wake up to this low-lying gray cloud/fog/smog, I don’t even know what it is and I don’t particularly care, it is depressing and it makes me want to roll over and go back to sleep until noon when the sun, occasionally, rears its weak head to heat us up to a whopping 70 degrees if we’re lucky.

I know this is a bit whiny, but I really expected, despite knowing better, that California would be sunny and warm, at least in the summer. They tell me to hold out for fall, and I suppose I don’t really have a choice since I’ve enrolled in school and the thought of moving makes us both shudder and feel ill, but it is summer and I would like the warmth and sunshine of the sunshine state to extend north to our small enclave – I did move all the way to the sunshine state, I feel like I’m entitled to a little more sun.

I remember having sparklers in our backyard on the 4th of July when our family came over and always being a little afraid it was going to burn my hand. I remember watching the fireworks from our neighbor’s deck because they were higher up on the hill and had a good view. I remember my first 4th of July when there wasn’t an official fireworks display because I was in rural New Mexico and trying to decide if random people setting off fireworks really cut it for me. And now I will remember 4th of July in Mexico where I slept in late, wrote a sermon, learned some French, took a nap, ate some good food, and watched people set off fireworks on the beach – it will be a good one to remember.

This offer commenced multiple hours of conversation in our marriage that took the general form of my whining about how much I wanted to go to Mexico and Adam anxiously pointing out all the obstacles in our way (like his job interview and my lack of a current passport). Needless to say, my whining was more powerful that Adam’s worrying and here we are (apparently you can get in and out of Mexico with a birth certificate and license as long as you’re driving). While it did take a bit of running around (including a vet visit so Sadie could come too), I believe we are both very glad we put in the effort because Mexico is delightful.

Last night we had dinner in a restaurant overlooking the ocean. This morning we slept in, went for a walk on the beach, hung out, went to eat cheap tacos, hung out some more, took some naps, made dinner, and played Monopoly. It has all been very relaxing and unexpected – and even better, Adam got a job at the Apple store and I got a second interview with Kaplan.

We have to head back Saturday so we can work on Sunday, but for tomorrow, we will sit on Erin’s porch, eat scrumptious food, and watch the ocean while we remember that there are good things about living in California (like being able to drive to Mexico).

Since we got back from San Jose on Saturday, Adam and I have spent the majority of our days job hunting, or looking for jobs for which to hunt. As it is only Tuesday, this isn’t that many days, and yet I am exhausted by it all. I have always been fortunate to have jobs fall into my lap, so having to go out and canvas neighborhoods for good places to work, and then having to ask if their hiring and handout endless resumes, is new for me. In some ways I believe my parents might call it character building. There is certainly humility involved as you continually hear again and again that people are not hiring, no matter how amazing you may or may not be. On the other hand, it is a little bit demoralizing to be willing to work and not be able to find the right place.

In seminary we talked a lot about our sense of call – where it was/is that we feel called to be, where we think our gifts and talents might best serve the world and where we also might find joy and energy. Another way of talking about call would be vocation. As someone anticipating another academic program this fall and looking for part-time work to make ends meet, vocation and call aren’t high on my list of priorities; but, there is a certain sense in which I do want to work someplace where I can contribute, and I definitely would prefer to work somewhere live-giving rather than life-draining. Yet, it is the first of July and places have already hired for the summer, so the options are slimmer than they might be at other times of the year, which leaves me both overwhelmed by the process and trying to remind myself that call involves not only what we desire but also what God desires.

In the Presbyterian Church, in order to be ordained into the pastoral ministry, one must both have an interior sense of call as well as have that call confirmed by their home church and the church to which they have been called to serve. While this dual confirmation results in a lengthy ordination process with multiple parties having to sign off on every step, I do think there is something theologically correct about it. As I search for a part-time job, I wonder if I need to learn to focus less on what I would really like and listen more for where God is calling me to be (part-time) in the months to come.

Anyway, since I am once again procrastinating a paper, I have, of course, been reading the New York Times online instead. And, I came across this op-ed piece from 1996 that was run as an op-classic this morning. Adam and I have lots of conversations about whether or not we will “need” a second car when we move to California; and, if we do, might we let him buy a vespa instead. All of these are purely hypothetical lines of thought since we have no idea where we’ll be living or how far we’ll need to be commuting. But, this piece captures some of my feelings on the subject, albeit with some added anger.

I don’t have so much anger about having to use a car as resignation and small flames of hope that one day it will no longer be needed. Admittedly, we could use the car a lot less than we do, we tend to use it more as a means of convenience than out of necessity, but it’s so ingrained that it’s hard to get over the small inconveniences of having to walk, bike, or wait on public transportation.

All this to say that my hope is we’ll find an apartment near the subway line so we can use more public transportation and less car, but who knows … idealism rarely trumps practicality in my world.

Now, don’t get me wrong, there are LOTS of things to be done. We are moving in a month after all; and all of these things sounded very appealing yesterday when I had to write my paper (I mean, who wouldn’t rather run errands, buy rubbermaid storage containers, or clean out their clothes when the alternative is struggling through a paper?). But this afternoon, with a free and clear evening in front of me, none of those things sound the least bit appealing. They all take quite a bit of effort when you really think about it.

Yet, neither do I want to watch TV, which is a very bizarre anomaly that has been worrying about my health and sanity. I watched the episode of House from last night and we finished The Fugitive over lunch and nothing else on the TiVo really grabs my attention. Whereas yesterday, yesterday it all sounded so delightful. This sounds rather whiny, but to be honest, I’m not really complaining, I’m just wondering about this annoying phenomenon. It’s not entirely like the grass is greener on the other side (I definitely do not wish I was still writing a long, boring paper), but it’s kind of close. Maybe the things I can’t have just are so much more appealing for being unattainable …

Anyway, back to my couch sitting.

Date: October 25, 2007
Time: 10:19pm
Fact: My husband, Adam Walker Cleaveland, in listing off the litany of chores he no longer wanted to perform mentioned taking care of the dog; after which he said (and I quote), “I’ll clean up her messes inside, I don’t mind, I just don’t want to take care of her anymore.”

Leaving aside his loss of love for the dog, for which you may feel free to berate him, there is a cheerful atmosphere in the house tonight as I relish all the future dog pee in the house I will no longer have to clean up.

Should he go back on his word, which he is desperately trying to do at this very moment, we shall all know the date and time of this proclamation and hold him to it. Life just got a little bit better.