Happy Trails to Meeeeee - Santiago Oaks Regional Park

Down to just one car last week, I had to drive my boo to work early Saturday morning. Most of the fibers in my body wanted to stumble to the car in my PJs, but I threw some stretchy, ass-jiggle highlighting pants on and toddled to the car with sneakers in hand. I figured I should take this opportunity to hit a trail before it got hot. After dropping off the boo, I coffee'd up and resisted the urge to go home and get some work done on the couch.

I love the couch.

Despite the siren's call of a lazy Saturday, I drove toward the Santiago Oaks Regional Park which was recommended by a friend. I shared the road only with old trucks whose drivers were heading off to manicure the lawns and gardens of the expansive Orange County homes. The farther I drove, the more rural the landscape became. At least, it was reminiscent of a rural area but one that is very expensive. Turns out, this is what is referred to as an equestrian community. This explains the horse trails and stables and McMansions.  

Another oldie but goodie. Somehow, he did not make an appearance in the equestrian community

I followed the helpful signs toward the park and noticed several gated communities and 90s era (once) new developments that almost made me pause. Confident in my friend's suggestion, I continued on. The road narrowed, a horse and its rider were spotted, and suddenly there were trees everywhere. I gasped. I stared. I squealed. The park attendant asked if I might mind paying the parking fee and getting out of the way.

Who doesn't love sun poking through trees? Monsters, that's who!

Historic Orange Grove. Look but don't touch.

a leetle creek!

The OC Parks website will tell you that Santiago Oaks provides a sense of removal from the urbanized environment, and you know what? This is not a lie. Even just sitting in the parking lot, I felt so at peace I almost cried.

surrounded!

historic creek dam. not for swimming, damn.

it's all shady and tree covered and then there's this valley type thing out of nowhere!

for when you get thirsty. intended for horses, but hey.

I have nothing bad to say. No snarky jokes to tell. There was hardly any litter and no graffiti that I saw. Just a beautiful place full of people there for more or less the same reason I was. I give it five Haribo gummy bear bags! (out of 5)

Trying to Get Lost in Fullerton

This Saturday I forcibly removed myself from the couch and went for a walk. Although the trail looked like something one might see on a hike, for some reason I just can't bring myself to call it that. A walk seems more accurate, albeit a hot and dusty walk along a dirt path.

I walked the "Lost Trail," which I came across on the interwebs after some searching for local walking trails. The name implied that the trail was perhaps secluded, but I figured it was a misnomer. I asked google its opinion, and it told me that the trail was an escape from suburbia! The idea of this delighted me.

My quest to lose myself on Lost Trail in an escape from suburbia began at a most suburban setting - the Fullerton Municipal Golf Course. I walked a short distance on a different trail to get to the Lost Trail start and was surrounded by suburbia for much of the trip.

Golf course to my left and condos and a hospital to my above right

Once I reached the tunnel to take me under a boulevard and to Lost Trail, the apartment complexes and condominums faded from view, although I could still hear the roar of traffic down the boulevard I had taken to get there.

This was one creepy ass tunnel

On the other side of the tunnel, the tanned OC Gods gifted me with a little creek. I walked along it for a bit, wondering if I was on the Lost Trail or just getting lost trying to find it.

I quickly found my way and just as quickly realized that while the trail may have been lost at one point,  it was now found and sat squarely in the middle of high-end suburbia.

Does this make you feel lost?

I agree! Though, I think this was built for "adverts"

what is that I see in the distance?!

Pumping for oil, that's what!

Although I had been set on escaping suburbia, I decided not to let the presence of large ranch-style homes, gardeners and landscapers of said homes, and manicured soccer fields and golf courses bum me out. I accepted the surroundings for what they were and had fun trying to think of as many "lost and found" jokes as I could. I wrote this blog entry in my head as I walked, none of which is actually within this post as I promptly forgot it.

You can tell this house has a pool, and I was ready to find myself in it

There was some trash and graffiti, but unlike the taggers of Hermit Falls, these kids encouraged me every step of the way. And are avid readers, apparently.

If you can't tell, it says "you is important" and you IS

You is also smart

The walk wasn't particularly long nor was it very secluded, but I enjoyed myself. I saw dragonflies, birds, lizards, squirrels, and butterflies. I also saw a lot of horse shit but only one horse. There wasn't very much shade though, so it was freaking hot. The city website rated the trail as Easy/Moderate, and although I have no idea what that means, if it was a 90 degree day that shit would be hard as fuck.

I have decided to implement an arbitrary rating system for my outdoor experiences here in Southern California. To the Lost Trail I award 3 bags of Haribo gummy bears (out of 5) because it's really close to my house, tells me I'm smart, and has lots of birds and stuff.

I Don't Know What to Name You

Tomorrow I am flying to DC for a short work-related trip, which might interrupt this blogging momentum I've had going this week.

RHODC -  Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of, err, "Fame"

Lunch with those ladies is on the agenda. Also, when looking for this picture I saw a headline that read "People Watching the Real Housewives Destined to Fail in Life?" - if the answer is yes and the implication is that I must stop watching, why even wake up tomorrow? Slightly related to one of my points below, I just read that Toya Wright might be joining the Atlanta Housewives. I hope it's true! (If you even get this reference, we are soulmates.)

Before I go, let me just say a few things.

If I can't use you, WHAT IS THE POINT?

1. Southern California is not taking to kindly to my constructive criticism. The Tanned Gods of OC have rendered the pool in my complex unusable for the next 3 weeks, at a minimum, while a new drain is installed. Something about safety code non-compliance, blah blah blah.

"Steebie" J and Joseline of Love and Hip Hop- I just..I can't...ugh.

2. I've found a reality show to add to my very short list of those reality shows whose manufactured drama even I am not willing to consume. Love and Hip Hop - Atlanta. This disappoints me greatly because I usually spend weekends catching up on all the crap that my boo doesn't like to watch. With this and other crappier crap (Snooki and JWoww - I expected so much more) making up most of my options, I've been resorting to cooking shows. Sigh.

My photog skills are stellar, I know.

3. I bought four of these prints from the Rose Bowl Flea Market - 3 horizontal and one vertical. I finally got around to framing them, and the plan was to hang them in the dining area. Only now, every arrangement I come up with is worst than the last, and I start hating it all with the fire of a thousand suns.

That is all. Now I am off to eat all afternoon long with my sister-in-law.

Deep Thoughts - The (Concrete) World at my Feet

I spend a lot of time looking at my feet. As I walk, that is. I spend a lot of time looking at my feet and in so doing have ample opportunity to notice how substandard the scenery is at foot level. Looking straight ahead does not provide much relief. The only thing I’m surrounded by on my walk home is a major street and traffic. The standard is, of course, what I would see at my feet if I were at home in Portland. (My brain conveniently forgets that if I were walking along Sandy Blvd. right by my childhood home, it would be similar to what I see here. The sights, the sounds, and even the smells would be similar.)

My feet. And the sidewalk.

When I hear or read people gush over California, I bitterly scrunch up my face and wonder what they could possibly see that I don’t. Where are they finding the beauty amid the never-ending sea of cars, car noise, pavement, lanes upon lanes of boulevard and freeway, strip malls, and chain restaurants? (This refers to Orange County, outside of the beach cities.) Maybe they aren’t spending time here HERE. But wait, they have to drive through this mess from airports and transportation hubs to get to the beauty and the glory that is the California coast. Aren’t they seeing this? Perhaps not. Perhaps their eyes are fixed on the brilliant blue sky above their heads rather than looking down at their feet, or worse, straight ahead.

To try to see what they see, I stopped looking at my feet for a moment.  I looked out and up, beyond eye level, to the sky. I was reminded of how much beauty I used to see in California. When I visited as a little girl and when I first moved here as an undergrad, every color was vivid – the blue of the sky, the green of the palms, the terra cotta color of the townhome rooftops, all of it. I took a moment on my walk home to look at the sky, and the trees, and I lingered alongside the train tracks which were blocking the major road below.

My favorite view on my walk home

And then I got to the bottom of the hill and hated everything again. I romanticize returning to the Pacific Northwest constantly, and my sister is quick to remind me how she wishes she could leave, escape the constant dark, gray quality of late fall, winter, and most of spring. Then, just as quickly I remind her that although there is plenty of light here, most of my vistas are gray filled as well. Only for me, it’s concrete and pavement with a blur of rushing metal everywhere I look.

The view for the rest of my walk, and the street I live on.

I wish I could figure out a way to walk while looking to the sky but without falling down or running into things. I’d need to figure out how to drive this way as well. If I could do that, then I could rediscover whatever it is about California that brought me here in the first place. There are many people in this state enjoying its near perfect climate and natural resources every weekend, every day even! I am not one of those people, but I think I should try to change that.

I would like to enjoy this. Who wants to move to Malibu?

It makes my heart a little heavy to think about how slim the chance is that I will ever leave this place. Despite the perfect weather, and even if I embrace and take advantage of all it offers, I will never be in love with California, much less Orange County. But if I am here to stay, I just hope one day we can find a city, neighborhood, or even little tiny pocket of space that feels like home.

Home.

In other news, a man in my complex swims in a full body wetsuit. Just thought you should know.

Can't find a job...what to do next? Blog of course.

Until now, I have never even considered starting my own blog.  I have never considered that people might actually be interested in my thoughts and musings on a relatively boring and standard life.  I still don't think people will be interested, but I am interested. I figured I could use a blog as an avenue to express my frustrations and constant discouragement. After stumbling upon a blog by a fellow unemployed that helped me cope with the impossible task of trying to reach EDD by phone, it struck me that maybe my experience might resonate with other people too. So, here I am. And here are my unemployment stats: unemployed since 3/6/09, making ends meet by supplementing unemployment with babysitting, have yet to receive one interview or even an actual rejection that didn't come in the form of just refusing to answer my emails or phone calls. 

In late January of this year, I entered a meeting with my new supervisor excited to share all the program development ideas I had come up with. My after school program had just been placed under the jurisdiction of the Child Care department, and they assured me they would provide me with more support and the necessary resources needed for my program to reach its potential. The week prior to the meeting, I attended a meeting with the school staff and the counseling department and I started developing ideas for a lunchtime mentorship program for 8th graders who spent lunch on the porch of my outdoor classroom everyday anyway. I knew my boss would love the idea! Unfortunately, before I had a chance to share it with her she called in another supervisor and awkwardly informed me my program was being closed so the resources used to fund the program could be redirected. The last day would be February 27th, and I needed to get a letter out to the parents and students immediately. "So we won't be finishing the year?" I asked. No, and encourage the students to join the other program on campus program so they have a place to go. Nevermind that the other program is severely, severely lacking, to put it kindly and mildly. 

Surprisingly, I didn't cry. Thank God. I wanted to, but I've been told that isn't very professional. Students were devastated. Parents were outraged. Staff members wanted to start a revolution. I felt the same way, but after awhile I just wanted it to be over. I knew there was nothing we could do, and I accepted defeat.  I was kept on for an extra week because no one else wanted the job of cleaning out the classroom. The last time I told someone that they thought I was being paranoid, but actually someone told me that directly. "We're keeping you on until the 6th because if you don't clean the room that means I have to." 

At first, I didn't try that hard to get a new job. I'm a full time graduate student and I thought it would give me a chance to take an extra class and focus on my studies. Now it looks like I will be graduating a semester earlier than I anticipated, so that's great. I decided to start nannying, but that was easier said than done.  Now I have two part time babysitting jobs that are over 20 miles from my home. For $12/hour.  In May I thought it'd be good to go back to waiting tables, but over 25 applications and only one interview later, I gave up on that idea. 

Commercial break: my sister just called to say my one year old nephew is eating dog food. "Put that in your blog." So there it is. 

By late June, I scrapped the idea of serving tables and had come to hate nannying, so it was time to pursue a full time "career" type job. Bad timing I think. I'm pretty sure the job market is worse now than it was in March when I first became unemployed.  I act like I have been applying to jobs like that is my job, but that's not entirely truthful. But I will leave that for the next post. 

Til next time.