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| 2009-06-17 Del Mar Fair, sailing, swim, |
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| 2009-06-08 ASA sailing 101, move to near downtown SB |
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| 2009-06-05 - UCSB campus art, food, menus, OA, rainy day, fire zone, more sb parks & open space |
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| 2009-05-30 Food, Job Interviews. . . |
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Photos up!
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
w/out dream
Caught by any little thing.
what's been happening? I made it through a week of self-presentation--related to all the previous job-apping I'd done.
I got sick (related to that cough I mentioned, which became headache, tiredness, nausea). Got better.
I did not read much.
I finished my volunteer hours. So, the $200 I have left is my own to hoard.
I volunteered with WYP.
I dug more stuff out of trash cans at Goleta Beach for breakfast, post-dinner.
I found perhaps 16 good sandwiches (near a cafe on campus)--healthy if moderated, but managed to sort of eat them in one day.
So I went to my first overeaters anonymous meeting. I did lock my blog a while back--and change the name. Trying to make it a bit less likely googling my name would find this. . . but that may not matter.
Getting the jobs may not matter. The ending of motivation related to them--(the motivation of) getting, applying, working them--may be the point.
But those were dreams. I had dreams--dreams were in me, tho small, tho short.
I loved the campus--I loved what I saw, noticed--how much was going on, for me walking, for someone outside of car.
I took pictures. I tired of walking and lugging. I spent the night, several nights, in spot closer to campus where the bikes go close by--a bit more company (more human presence--I desired this), less of a walk.
[I saw the outdoor-dwelling princess. She's only occasionally seen by early risers. Dressed in drab colors, stylish, fit well, silhouetted against the 6am bright grey of morning ocean, herself appropriately nourished (?), she feeds seagulls from a trash-can find--joyful, dancerly silhouette, does she know we watch and love and she makes us want to live.
She walks the trail with a mesh bag over shoulder. She walks quickly. Believe it was her I followed my first early morning near Goleta Beach. Once she looked down at me--looking quickly away--, I believe, when I slept in trailside.
That morning, a bike-riding male outdoor-dweller passed me by, and sat on bike, watching her. Maybe I'd watch longer were he not there. Took a low-res photo of them both, & walked on, glancing back. One of us? A woman? Is she that fine? Why? And her fear, secret?
What would I see could I more than fleeting glance? What would I see in her face. Where is her spot?
(gradually) forgotten, until writing now.
The young run, dance, bike--I did respond to a craigslist ad looking for volunteer performers of a simple motion (a move to a beat, a foot-high hop). But I move ever less? The food death, sluggishness? Well agile mind has made it here now. Happy with that.]
[An older man was checking the cans before me one AM. Not food but not-empty beers (I later guess). Saw him too while cooking there yest pm. He later hunkered down in shallow dunes near me and stealthily, slowly, friendli-ly fed seagulls as pets. He just has a jacket. No bike or bag. And, that pm, a beach blanket.]
I watched Debbie, who interviewed me, model of high-functioning and fitness, lead, awesomely, a water aerobics class. She may even be 60, but perhaps closer to 40. . . for those who function, who can tell?
A new spot tonight. Crows not herons. Más mosquitos.
A new spot.
This is for Kurt, who emailed?
We have these wills. Some of us know not how to use them. "God / Divine / will of life, my life is unmanageable."
What should manage it?
No answers here.
What to do besides eat / wait to get hungry / cook / forage / shop if necessary?
I've narrowed life down.
The hobbies others have--the dreams, by walking, outdoor dwelling, what for me is left, walking away from all the dreams of others.
I went to a CCBER volunteer / intern appreciation cook out / barbecue at Goleta Beach.
So will I now go to OA / FAA / FAIR / EDA meetings just to have something else to do besides eat / wait to get hungry / etc? Sleep / wait to get tired / sleep? Get dirty / wait to get clean? Lug stuff around / wait to get tired of sitting still?
Oh! I invited people out to sail! I might have gone today were it more windy.
Use things, abuse body parts / wait for them to fall apart / wait to repair or remedy them.
We read and write for joy.
Hi, I'm _______________ , I'm a compulsive over-eater / food addict in recovery / bulimic / anorexic / . . .
Hi _______________ !
So many . . .
So much . . .
---
That's all. May paste in previous attempts. May get to pictures. May get to read again?
a breath and a smile.
----------------
from ~0830 this morning:
Asunto: to live without dreams
Back at the beach. The phone offline. The CCBER workers massing. Lagoon Island will burn on 6/15 (that week at least)--someone's doctoral thesis.
Finished volunteering yesterday. I could always volunteer again. Tuesdays and Thursdays are their big days.
My stomach--well, it's much abused. And my eyes too--. But yesterday and today, no abuse really so far.
No dreams. I'm alive. But so easy to give into death habits without life dreams.
what's been happening? I made it through a week of self-presentation--related to all the previous job-apping I'd done.
I got sick (related to that cough I mentioned, which became headache, tiredness, nausea). Got better.
I did not read much.
I finished my volunteer hours. So, the $200 I have left is my own to hoard.
I volunteered with WYP.
I dug more stuff out of trash cans at Goleta Beach for breakfast, post-dinner.
I found perhaps 16 good sandwiches (near a cafe on campus)--healthy if moderated, but managed to sort of eat them in one day.
So I went to my first overeaters anonymous meeting. I did lock my blog a while back--and change the name. Trying to make it a bit less likely googling my name would find this. . . but that may not matter.
Getting the jobs may not matter. The ending of motivation related to them--(the motivation of) getting, applying, working them--may be the point.
But those were dreams. I had dreams--dreams were in me, tho small, tho short.
I loved the campus--I loved what I saw, noticed--how much was going on, for me walking, for someone outside of car.
I took pictures. I tired of walking and lugging. I spent the night, several nights, in spot closer to campus where the bikes go close by--a bit more company (more human presence--I desired this), less of a walk.
[I saw the outdoor-dwelling princess. She's only occasionally seen by early risers. Dressed in drab colors, stylish, fit well, silhouetted against the 6am bright grey of morning ocean, herself appropriately nourished (?), she feeds seagulls from a trash-can find--joyful, dancerly silhouette, does she know we watch and love and she makes us want to live.
She walks the trail with a mesh bag over shoulder. She walks quickly. Believe it was her I followed my first early morning near Goleta Beach. Once she looked down at me--looking quickly away--, I believe, when I slept in trailside.
That morning, a bike-riding male outdoor-dweller passed me by, and sat on bike, watching her. Maybe I'd watch longer were he not there. Took a low-res photo of them both, & walked on, glancing back. One of us? A woman? Is she that fine? Why? And her fear, secret?
What would I see could I more than fleeting glance? What would I see in her face. Where is her spot?
(gradually) forgotten, until writing now.
The young run, dance, bike--I did respond to a craigslist ad looking for volunteer performers of a simple motion (a move to a beat, a foot-high hop). But I move ever less? The food death, sluggishness? Well agile mind has made it here now. Happy with that.]
[An older man was checking the cans before me one AM. Not food but not-empty beers (I later guess). Saw him too while cooking there yest pm. He later hunkered down in shallow dunes near me and stealthily, slowly, friendli-ly fed seagulls as pets. He just has a jacket. No bike or bag. And, that pm, a beach blanket.]
I watched Debbie, who interviewed me, model of high-functioning and fitness, lead, awesomely, a water aerobics class. She may even be 60, but perhaps closer to 40. . . for those who function, who can tell?
A new spot tonight. Crows not herons. Más mosquitos.
A new spot.
This is for Kurt, who emailed?
We have these wills. Some of us know not how to use them. "God / Divine / will of life, my life is unmanageable."
What should manage it?
No answers here.
What to do besides eat / wait to get hungry / cook / forage / shop if necessary?
I've narrowed life down.
The hobbies others have--the dreams, by walking, outdoor dwelling, what for me is left, walking away from all the dreams of others.
I went to a CCBER volunteer / intern appreciation cook out / barbecue at Goleta Beach.
So will I now go to OA / FAA / FAIR / EDA meetings just to have something else to do besides eat / wait to get hungry / etc? Sleep / wait to get tired / sleep? Get dirty / wait to get clean? Lug stuff around / wait to get tired of sitting still?
Oh! I invited people out to sail! I might have gone today were it more windy.
Use things, abuse body parts / wait for them to fall apart / wait to repair or remedy them.
We read and write for joy.
Hi, I'm _______________ , I'm a compulsive over-eater / food addict in recovery / bulimic / anorexic / . . .
Hi _______________ !
So many . . .
So much . . .
---
That's all. May paste in previous attempts. May get to pictures. May get to read again?
a breath and a smile.
----------------
from ~0830 this morning:
Asunto: to live without dreams
Back at the beach. The phone offline. The CCBER workers massing. Lagoon Island will burn on 6/15 (that week at least)--someone's doctoral thesis.
Finished volunteering yesterday. I could always volunteer again. Tuesdays and Thursdays are their big days.
My stomach--well, it's much abused. And my eyes too--. But yesterday and today, no abuse really so far.
No dreams. I'm alive. But so easy to give into death habits without life dreams.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Sunday, May 24, 2009
? [silent]
I applied for several jobs and have interviews for two. I'm pretty silent.
The lifeguarding class ended and I'm certified.
I've been doing my volunteer work with The Cheadle Center for Biodiversity and Ecological Restoration. CCBER.lifesci.ucsb.edu. Darwin, Tony, & ? were weeding invasives near where I cook on the UCSB beach. I asked if I could volunteer with them. So I learn local dune, wetland (fresh, salt), and other plant communities as well as the non-natives we remove (edibles among them: sea rocket, mustard, new zealand spinach). Plus we talk about other things. There are animals in the plants too. A little pair of birds (killdeer?) with white black-speckled eggs--not the endangered plover--one pretends to have a broken wing, the other stands martially and walks daintily closer to the nest, peeping, cheeping. Their area has a nice [an extensive] rope barrier now. A path to the beach sort of went right by them and students and visiting parents would be entertained by the little birds' alarm.
Thursday morning was a presentation (for CCBER interns) on Chumash ethnobotany by Wayne Chapman, greenhouse manager (reminds me of Paul Maschka), with a bit of help from Heather Thakar. Theodoro(sp?)'s book about Ishi was an early influence on Wayne.
2009-05-24-0823 Two booms followed by a prolonged soft roaring. A rocket launch (Vandenberg AFB)? An oil platform explosion?
I saw pretty much all of the W. McDonough talk, slideshow. Sort of wish I could contribute on the level he does. His work is transforming industry. A Swiss textile company reduced chemicals/substances used to ~32 from ~128. Previously trimmings were toxic. Now the cloth can be eaten. Airbus will use the textiles for seats--"if you find yourself at 20,000(?) feet with a fiber deficiency . . ." Not to mention his architecture. The talk was related to his book _Cradle to Cradle_.
---
I started the week with a bit of resignation--or something. Here's a scrap I wrote:
Asunto: ceasing to sell, ceasing to try
We all get to watch my occasional job-getting motions. Eventually these subside. There will be none of that left.
"A great opportunity for the right person."
The interview for some camps--"why would you make an AWESOME counselor?" (answer this or something similar on your required video interview).
I seek jobs now (if I do) where personality is not an issue. Because I have the feeling there is none here.
Not in a bad way? I still seem to have meaningful interactions with others.
---
By the end of the week, I was a bit overwhelmed by the people contacting me, the volunteering, the number of things going.
What could be interpreted as (but very well may not be) rejection (interesting how these are a bit buried, un-remembered): the food bank guy never got back to me. Ms Carfree San Diego did not. . . And an old friend I've not been able to get through to. Some other small things. What I previously thought was non-recognition probably was not (once I said Hi to him, he was very friendly).
But there was a lot of love from other places--the lifeguard class, my family. . .
Someone called the campus police on me 5/21; they arrived after I'd been talking to Mom, Dana, Dad on Mom's birthday (she was on a farm scavenger hunt). Some bogus call--nothing wrong with what I was doing (sitting in shady spot by road near campus recycling area), but might be good to move on, so I did. Perhaps it was the guy on the dirtbike who drove by three times, seemed friendly, and attemped to start a conversation ("can I help you?") but I was on the phone. The woman cop (as in a previous cop encounter at SDSU) was more ridiculous, by-the-book, in a somewhat escalating-of-conflict way: "do you have anything illegal?"; "that may be a weapon, let me move them out of the way" (a victorinox classic swiss army knife [the smallest], closed; a peeler with handle removed; a compass with shortened (sawed-off) baseplate; a GI/mini can opener--all tethered together by a short piece of venetian blind cord--I'd been peeling apples).
Just show the ID, that's all you're required to do. But I answered other questions too [e.g., Lifeguard class in an hour at the Rec Cen] (once at SDSU I remained silent and the woman cop sort of freaked out). Even, perhaps foolishly, gave the guy cop my phone # (these can be tracked to locate you). I got some validation. "We get some ridiculous calls" (the guy cop). "This is a public campus, you have a right to be here" (the woman). "So, you're not living anywhere right now?" (the woman)--nice, at least, she did not say "homeless."
---
Rejection may be better described as "lack of effort to make or maintain contact" or as "effort to avoid contact." So I may be guilty of that, the first version.
I'm exploring these feelings because though I haven't been dwelling on them or stuck on them, they do come up--as I walk around, sometimes mind considers why it would be better (or thought/perceived better by her) for another not to make the effort of contact.
And the web identity associated with my email address / name has, now, a lot of baggage.
---
So, early in the week there were thoughts and fears of non-contact. But Darwin finally showed up on Tuesday. My classmates were friendly. And I met Rion Beauregard (met at Quail Springs) at Los Baños. A guy on the bus was reading "What is Enlightenment?", a Foucalt essay, apparently, and it was clear to me later we had both wanted (or would want) to talk more.
On Thursday I got a call about an interview for the lifeguard job I'd sort of given up on, fearing my app was too odd. And about an interview for Naturalists At Large.
After writing that "ceasing to try" scrap, I went outside for a bit. And my being wanted to continue to try. Try for what? Some contact, some job--not sure exactly what that urge is. A drive for relation, for being valued, [an urge which is] channeled by my cultural context, development.
So I adopted the approach of appeasing the urge with a bit of the view that perhaps probably nothing would come of it.
So I applied to NAL. I hand-wrote the app. I did not re-work my resume. I got the idea of applying there off my mind by applying quickly.
The same process I followed on Wednesday when I walked into the the Sail S an ta B ar ba ra School near Los Baños and asked if they were hiring.
I had my bag, my pants. My shirt I'd been running to the bus in and wearing all week, last washed Sat AM. But my Tilley hat was new (a replacement I'd gotten the day before).
I'd considered walking in there before but that was prior to having an address, local phone--
So now there's a chance (may find out Monday) I could work with them.
I didn't retool my resume for that either. Just wrote a cover email which I was a bit late to Weds LG class in sending (and felt that lateness to be not graceful, not quality, a mistake, but the fiddling with applying to the sailing school was over--and I gave up the possibility, unless I later went down to Marina Del Rey and certified as instructor with ASA).
And my mobile data package had expired. Thurs eve I finally logged on and found the sail school had emailed. Also campstevens.org (Near SD). I'd been emailing about the kitchen assistant position there. I was a bit surprised how friendly, appreciative they were. Friday afternoon I emailed (two days late nearly) to say I was interested but would follow through the SB adventures instead.
(for 10 weeks could I work 5 days a week in a kitchen, live in a community?)
It is helpful that I could go to the family farm in TN--
And, last, two students in the LG class encouraged me to apply to the Tennis Club. Pay: $12-$15/hr vs. $9.50. . . They get paid well as WSI -- teaching swim lessons ($25 / 15 min?? Could it have been that much?), and would rather not lifeguard.
However, the course instructor, with many local connections--well I wonder whether she'd hire me.
And I am so visible walking around town, compared to car drivers--who has seen me? What did they see?
The guys at goletadepot.org / dos pueblos ranch museum-- two of them, felt a bit distant, cold. But it _is_ time for a wash.
And the other outdoor dwellers have been friendly--Mobi went out of his way to welcome me to a Wednesday breakfast at Anisq'oyo (sp should be correct--Chumash for 'gathering place'?). Another told me about a 6pm hamburgers & movie at St Athanasius (sp?) Church. When I stopped by there, a younger guy, Jim / Ozzie said "You made it!" and we talked a bit. I decided not to stay. I had sat near another outdoor dweller earlier. He was sorting recycling he'd collected at night. The employee from the mailbox place walked by--no or hardly any recognition. . . do they deliver all my mail? This was Pardall, the main drag, much bicycle and foot traffic, and already I'd seen Amid from lg class bike by; I decided not to call out, feeling at my grungiest, with baggage prominent on table, near my compatriot.
I thanked him for sharing his spot when I left to go. He said, It's a public space. 'It's nice to have some company while working(though we did not talk much)--some times I play a radio, but I thought you might mind. . .' I'd been composing emails, pondering what to say, eating, in the shade of the abandoned Eclectic IV porch.
A good number of the outdoor dwellers are older men. The young anarchists and dread- / hippy-style, if they are around (I've seen a few) are mostly elsewhere.
One guy got to talking with me before a St Mark's lunch. He mentioned how he'd had apartments before, but that he got depressed in them. . . Yeah, I felt similarly.
---
Health-wise: I've been walking my legs off. Built muscle there. But knees, feet are either toughening or--
I think it may be better to avoid the St Mark's lunches. . . well maybe not.
Teeth, gums-- well I don't know.
Friday night was first night in a long time I was asleep with the sun, back on a more healthy routine.
So it could have been better to find a way to get myself to Camp Stevens. But I'll persist here.
My throat has a bit of irritation since the cook fire yesterday.
Was in a state of wanting to eat, eat Friday eve. The weeding work--other things in my schedule-- (the time in the forest seemed less food-preoccupied).
And time in limbo--what now?
And how much of my time should I sell? Should I try for the Tennis Club? What will bussing or camping involve then?
[What will keeping this up for 10 weeks out near UCSB involve / be like? Will I wish for a change of scenery?]
Am I most excited about teaching sailing? Could that lead to a life I love vs. life of reservation--people, movement. . . carfreeness.
---
I do want to swim, to be clean--
9 hrs volunteer work left.
Could help stuff envelopes with WYP.org Tues?
I walked a long ways to get back to my slough-side vine-cave last night. 'Home' was a word in mind. Still here. I can watch cyclists, hear birds and a muted industrial rushing / flow sound from what may be a gas pipeline-related place nearby.
---
Woke to jets taking off. Ate an lb of org pb yest pm + white shrooms (foraged) + tomato paste. And calimyrna figs. From Trader Joe's. Thought that might happen. Walking emptied some of it. Good in a way, but there's also a joint ache from a peanut binge like that and dark urine. (happily it has been a good long while [6+ mos?] since the last).
And still, (yesterday, before that,) I got to walking around, looking in dumpsters, cans (or, first, trees) to see what I could find.
Today woke, quite silent, and, what now?
Sorted through stuff to pare down weight. Logged on to see if any messages. Then to see if I might write. Yesterday, Friday, turned on phone a few times but did not begin.
---
But I did read [yesterday, Fri]--had been a while.
---
A plan may be: [post photos / empty camera,] tomorrow see if campus pool is open. If so swim (must be 11:30-1:30?). Maybe weed from 8-11. Maybe contact Tennis Club. Call sb sail. Watch slideshow for NAL interview Tues at 1 (should have made it later?). Add money to phone, charge phone, extra battery, switch to unlimited plan. Don't weed Tuesday, maybe just M,W,F, then that's it.
Wash clothes at some point. Today?
Is there a way to carry less stuff? Am I at point where I'd leave things at 'home'?
There's a faint chemical smell from the refiners/gas company?? (I spent one night near a pipeline and at one point the fumes were quite bad.)
---
Is reading, walking, eating, photoing, occasional blogging, photo-posting enough? And working?
friends and efforts to meet them
any more needed than this? Desired?
grey here, cool.
silent mind
---
[a breath and a smile,]
The lifeguarding class ended and I'm certified.
I've been doing my volunteer work with The Cheadle Center for Biodiversity and Ecological Restoration. CCBER.lifesci.ucsb.edu. Darwin, Tony, & ? were weeding invasives near where I cook on the UCSB beach. I asked if I could volunteer with them. So I learn local dune, wetland (fresh, salt), and other plant communities as well as the non-natives we remove (edibles among them: sea rocket, mustard, new zealand spinach). Plus we talk about other things. There are animals in the plants too. A little pair of birds (killdeer?) with white black-speckled eggs--not the endangered plover--one pretends to have a broken wing, the other stands martially and walks daintily closer to the nest, peeping, cheeping. Their area has a nice [an extensive] rope barrier now. A path to the beach sort of went right by them and students and visiting parents would be entertained by the little birds' alarm.
Thursday morning was a presentation (for CCBER interns) on Chumash ethnobotany by Wayne Chapman, greenhouse manager (reminds me of Paul Maschka), with a bit of help from Heather Thakar. Theodoro(sp?)'s book about Ishi was an early influence on Wayne.
2009-05-24-0823 Two booms followed by a prolonged soft roaring. A rocket launch (Vandenberg AFB)? An oil platform explosion?
I saw pretty much all of the W. McDonough talk, slideshow. Sort of wish I could contribute on the level he does. His work is transforming industry. A Swiss textile company reduced chemicals/substances used to ~32 from ~128. Previously trimmings were toxic. Now the cloth can be eaten. Airbus will use the textiles for seats--"if you find yourself at 20,000(?) feet with a fiber deficiency . . ." Not to mention his architecture. The talk was related to his book _Cradle to Cradle_.
---
I started the week with a bit of resignation--or something. Here's a scrap I wrote:
Asunto: ceasing to sell, ceasing to try
We all get to watch my occasional job-getting motions. Eventually these subside. There will be none of that left.
"A great opportunity for the right person."
The interview for some camps--"why would you make an AWESOME counselor?" (answer this or something similar on your required video interview).
I seek jobs now (if I do) where personality is not an issue. Because I have the feeling there is none here.
Not in a bad way? I still seem to have meaningful interactions with others.
---
By the end of the week, I was a bit overwhelmed by the people contacting me, the volunteering, the number of things going.
What could be interpreted as (but very well may not be) rejection (interesting how these are a bit buried, un-remembered): the food bank guy never got back to me. Ms Carfree San Diego did not. . . And an old friend I've not been able to get through to. Some other small things. What I previously thought was non-recognition probably was not (once I said Hi to him, he was very friendly).
But there was a lot of love from other places--the lifeguard class, my family. . .
Someone called the campus police on me 5/21; they arrived after I'd been talking to Mom, Dana, Dad on Mom's birthday (she was on a farm scavenger hunt). Some bogus call--nothing wrong with what I was doing (sitting in shady spot by road near campus recycling area), but might be good to move on, so I did. Perhaps it was the guy on the dirtbike who drove by three times, seemed friendly, and attemped to start a conversation ("can I help you?") but I was on the phone. The woman cop (as in a previous cop encounter at SDSU) was more ridiculous, by-the-book, in a somewhat escalating-of-conflict way: "do you have anything illegal?"; "that may be a weapon, let me move them out of the way" (a victorinox classic swiss army knife [the smallest], closed; a peeler with handle removed; a compass with shortened (sawed-off) baseplate; a GI/mini can opener--all tethered together by a short piece of venetian blind cord--I'd been peeling apples).
Just show the ID, that's all you're required to do. But I answered other questions too [e.g., Lifeguard class in an hour at the Rec Cen] (once at SDSU I remained silent and the woman cop sort of freaked out). Even, perhaps foolishly, gave the guy cop my phone # (these can be tracked to locate you). I got some validation. "We get some ridiculous calls" (the guy cop). "This is a public campus, you have a right to be here" (the woman). "So, you're not living anywhere right now?" (the woman)--nice, at least, she did not say "homeless."
---
Rejection may be better described as "lack of effort to make or maintain contact" or as "effort to avoid contact." So I may be guilty of that, the first version.
I'm exploring these feelings because though I haven't been dwelling on them or stuck on them, they do come up--as I walk around, sometimes mind considers why it would be better (or thought/perceived better by her) for another not to make the effort of contact.
And the web identity associated with my email address / name has, now, a lot of baggage.
---
So, early in the week there were thoughts and fears of non-contact. But Darwin finally showed up on Tuesday. My classmates were friendly. And I met Rion Beauregard (met at Quail Springs) at Los Baños. A guy on the bus was reading "What is Enlightenment?", a Foucalt essay, apparently, and it was clear to me later we had both wanted (or would want) to talk more.
On Thursday I got a call about an interview for the lifeguard job I'd sort of given up on, fearing my app was too odd. And about an interview for Naturalists At Large.
After writing that "ceasing to try" scrap, I went outside for a bit. And my being wanted to continue to try. Try for what? Some contact, some job--not sure exactly what that urge is. A drive for relation, for being valued, [an urge which is] channeled by my cultural context, development.
So I adopted the approach of appeasing the urge with a bit of the view that perhaps probably nothing would come of it.
So I applied to NAL. I hand-wrote the app. I did not re-work my resume. I got the idea of applying there off my mind by applying quickly.
The same process I followed on Wednesday when I walked into the the Sail S an ta B ar ba ra School near Los Baños and asked if they were hiring.
I had my bag, my pants. My shirt I'd been running to the bus in and wearing all week, last washed Sat AM. But my Tilley hat was new (a replacement I'd gotten the day before).
I'd considered walking in there before but that was prior to having an address, local phone--
So now there's a chance (may find out Monday) I could work with them.
I didn't retool my resume for that either. Just wrote a cover email which I was a bit late to Weds LG class in sending (and felt that lateness to be not graceful, not quality, a mistake, but the fiddling with applying to the sailing school was over--and I gave up the possibility, unless I later went down to Marina Del Rey and certified as instructor with ASA).
And my mobile data package had expired. Thurs eve I finally logged on and found the sail school had emailed. Also campstevens.org (Near SD). I'd been emailing about the kitchen assistant position there. I was a bit surprised how friendly, appreciative they were. Friday afternoon I emailed (two days late nearly) to say I was interested but would follow through the SB adventures instead.
(for 10 weeks could I work 5 days a week in a kitchen, live in a community?)
It is helpful that I could go to the family farm in TN--
And, last, two students in the LG class encouraged me to apply to the Tennis Club. Pay: $12-$15/hr vs. $9.50. . . They get paid well as WSI -- teaching swim lessons ($25 / 15 min?? Could it have been that much?), and would rather not lifeguard.
However, the course instructor, with many local connections--well I wonder whether she'd hire me.
And I am so visible walking around town, compared to car drivers--who has seen me? What did they see?
The guys at goletadepot.org / dos pueblos ranch museum-- two of them, felt a bit distant, cold. But it _is_ time for a wash.
And the other outdoor dwellers have been friendly--Mobi went out of his way to welcome me to a Wednesday breakfast at Anisq'oyo (sp should be correct--Chumash for 'gathering place'?). Another told me about a 6pm hamburgers & movie at St Athanasius (sp?) Church. When I stopped by there, a younger guy, Jim / Ozzie said "You made it!" and we talked a bit. I decided not to stay. I had sat near another outdoor dweller earlier. He was sorting recycling he'd collected at night. The employee from the mailbox place walked by--no or hardly any recognition. . . do they deliver all my mail? This was Pardall, the main drag, much bicycle and foot traffic, and already I'd seen Amid from lg class bike by; I decided not to call out, feeling at my grungiest, with baggage prominent on table, near my compatriot.
I thanked him for sharing his spot when I left to go. He said, It's a public space. 'It's nice to have some company while working(though we did not talk much)--some times I play a radio, but I thought you might mind. . .' I'd been composing emails, pondering what to say, eating, in the shade of the abandoned Eclectic IV porch.
A good number of the outdoor dwellers are older men. The young anarchists and dread- / hippy-style, if they are around (I've seen a few) are mostly elsewhere.
One guy got to talking with me before a St Mark's lunch. He mentioned how he'd had apartments before, but that he got depressed in them. . . Yeah, I felt similarly.
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Health-wise: I've been walking my legs off. Built muscle there. But knees, feet are either toughening or--
I think it may be better to avoid the St Mark's lunches. . . well maybe not.
Teeth, gums-- well I don't know.
Friday night was first night in a long time I was asleep with the sun, back on a more healthy routine.
So it could have been better to find a way to get myself to Camp Stevens. But I'll persist here.
My throat has a bit of irritation since the cook fire yesterday.
Was in a state of wanting to eat, eat Friday eve. The weeding work--other things in my schedule-- (the time in the forest seemed less food-preoccupied).
And time in limbo--what now?
And how much of my time should I sell? Should I try for the Tennis Club? What will bussing or camping involve then?
[What will keeping this up for 10 weeks out near UCSB involve / be like? Will I wish for a change of scenery?]
Am I most excited about teaching sailing? Could that lead to a life I love vs. life of reservation--people, movement. . . carfreeness.
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I do want to swim, to be clean--
9 hrs volunteer work left.
Could help stuff envelopes with WYP.org Tues?
I walked a long ways to get back to my slough-side vine-cave last night. 'Home' was a word in mind. Still here. I can watch cyclists, hear birds and a muted industrial rushing / flow sound from what may be a gas pipeline-related place nearby.
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Woke to jets taking off. Ate an lb of org pb yest pm + white shrooms (foraged) + tomato paste. And calimyrna figs. From Trader Joe's. Thought that might happen. Walking emptied some of it. Good in a way, but there's also a joint ache from a peanut binge like that and dark urine. (happily it has been a good long while [6+ mos?] since the last).
And still, (yesterday, before that,) I got to walking around, looking in dumpsters, cans (or, first, trees) to see what I could find.
Today woke, quite silent, and, what now?
Sorted through stuff to pare down weight. Logged on to see if any messages. Then to see if I might write. Yesterday, Friday, turned on phone a few times but did not begin.
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But I did read [yesterday, Fri]--had been a while.
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A plan may be: [post photos / empty camera,] tomorrow see if campus pool is open. If so swim (must be 11:30-1:30?). Maybe weed from 8-11. Maybe contact Tennis Club. Call sb sail. Watch slideshow for NAL interview Tues at 1 (should have made it later?). Add money to phone, charge phone, extra battery, switch to unlimited plan. Don't weed Tuesday, maybe just M,W,F, then that's it.
Wash clothes at some point. Today?
Is there a way to carry less stuff? Am I at point where I'd leave things at 'home'?
There's a faint chemical smell from the refiners/gas company?? (I spent one night near a pipeline and at one point the fumes were quite bad.)
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Is reading, walking, eating, photoing, occasional blogging, photo-posting enough? And working?
friends and efforts to meet them
any more needed than this? Desired?
grey here, cool.
silent mind
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[a breath and a smile,]
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