Please don’t “nominate” me for the ALS Facebook challenge

…because, though I like an innovative fundraising scheme as much as the next gal, I have no money to give right at this moment and no desire, at all, to dump a bucket of ice water on my head.

Thank you.

Now, onto a few random thoughts I’ll quickly throw together while sitting on hold with AAA, transferring my membership to my new state. Because I now live in an area where it is suggested that I purchase not one, but two, separate helicopter memberships in case I need to be airlifted out of this rural region, I am upgrading my AAA membership to the one that includes 200 miles of towing, instead of the urban-friendly five.

I digress. (Do I? What am I going to say, anyway?)

My first weekend as a Californian was many things: extremely lonely, sometimes very hard, and also filled with moments of deep gratitude, great beauty, occasional laughter, the introduction of strangers who I’m hoping to convert – over time – to friends, and the constant presence of those who already fall so firmly into that category. A few things to mention:

1. Moving across the country is expensive. From new tires on my car to buying knives because I forgot to pack any, I am astounded by unexpected costs at every turn. Ah well. Good thing I decided to come along and earn a salary instead of cobbling together jobs here and there for the next few months.

Trying to save money while shopping at thrift stores, where I see gems like this. I did not purchase this particular item.

2. I am definitely living in a small town. I was thinking about this yesterday while driving down a dirt road with no name (“It’s about six driveways past the Feed Store,” the lady on the phone told me), en route to pick up a coffee table I’d seen advertised on Craig’s List. In the course of just one day, I talked to people who used to live in my house, who used to live just down the street from my house, and whose son used to live in the house on the corner. I’m trying so hard to remember people’s names, as I know I’ll run into them again – and soon.

I own a coffee table! $30: score.

3. Beer and wine is local, delicious, and well-deserved at this moment in my life. It’s also, as always and as everywhere, a good way to make friends. At a nearby brewery my first night, a man sat down and started telling me about his work as a Fire Crew Supervisor. Grateful for the company, I bought his beer, though he protested…but then declined his offer for a late-night stroll through town.

Honestly? I could also go for a Shasta. Especially because this must be the one place in the world that has a vending machine full of ‘em.

4. Moving across the country is exhausting. I have a million things I’d like to include in this post, about how incredible it is to see the ocean every day; and how strange it is that it’s cool, gray, soup-weather in August; and how amazing it is that there is a health food store across the street where I bought local cheese, vegetables, fruit, and pasta for $11 earlier today. But I am tired to my core, trying to get up the energy to go for a bike ride or make dinner, both of which I was excited to do when I planned out my evening. I suspect that cheese, olives, wine, and perhaps a handful of chocolate chips will have to do, instead.

Wheatgrass: just say NO.

I promise that soon I’ll get back to posting regularly on Mondays and Thursdays, as I’ve tried to do since March. Knowing you’ve taken the time to read this blog is wonderful, and I am really enjoying doing it. For now, since my AAA business is finished, I’m going to try and have a coherent conversation with the AT&T guy, so that he can set up my Internet and I can stop using my neighbors’ – though of course they said it was ok, just like they said it’s ok if I want to have my (non-existent) dog use their backyard, with its larger and more secure fence, on a daily basis while I’m at work.

I could just follow this path from my front yard to theirs.

What can I say? It’s a small town, and I’d normally make them some cookies to say thanks, but I forgot to pack my baking sheets. When I spend the money to buy some new ones, which is sure to be any day now, I’ll use them for precisely that reason – provided, of course, that I don’t just eat all the chocolate chips first.

If I do, though, at least the health food store sells them in bulk.

But then there’s that view…