San Jose, Dads, OCD, I'm Hungry

This is another one of those get-it-all-out-of-me posts, now that I've had a chance to sit down. Actually I'm not done unpacking yet, and I have no desk or any other furniture besides a bed, but I haven't blogged in a while even though I've been itching to. So here goes.

My initial impression of San Jose is that it is...not that different from my parents' house in West Covina. Definitely different than LA-LA. I actually live in a really nice neighborhood full of middle class families. Think Desperate Housewives without the desperation. I know why now some people say the Bay Area is perfect for raising a family. The scenery here is amazing. I keep noticing all the gorgeous, towering trees lining the streets, with beautiful red, yellow, green, and orange hues. It definitely feels like autumn here. I can't think of a place in LA like this. Everything is so neat and suburban. I like it for now, but it could also be because I haven't really had time to be bored.

My dad came with me up north to help me move in. There's just something about parents, ok--maybe my parents, where no matter how independent I become they'll still want to help. This will probably be the case until they physically can't anymore, and it's my turn to take care of them. This trip with my dad was practical, especially when my tire went flat or when we needed help moving my mattress from the furniture store to the house, but it also unexpectedly brought me, at least, closer to my dad. Even though I lived at home I never really spent much leisure time with my dad, nor did we talk much. These past few days really gave me the opportunity to remember why I love him so much. He's so practical and not a man of many sentiments, but he doesn't need to say anything for me to realize just how awesome he is. The morning of the day he left, he helped me put together my bed and move boxes around, and after it all, he just smiled and said, I'm happy I could help my daughter. He paid for my security deposit, first month's rent, furniture, auto insurance, and told me not to pay him back. Before he left he took out his wallet and gave me the rest of his cash. That was the last thing he did for me before waving bye and going through security. I said bye and hugged him. Afterward, I was alone and I bawled.

My other dad--my pledge dad--is like, in some ways, like my biological dad. Not a person keen on expressing his care for you in words, but through action. It was only when I left that I thought about all the things Robert has done for me through the years, and it made me realize he is one of the very few non-family people who I would bend over backwards for. One of the few people, not blood-related to me, who I deeply and unconditionally care about. Maybe I just don't have many friends, but I've never met a person who demonstrates the meaning of friendship so much to the core as he does. It makes me want to be a better friend in all my friendships. And I can't think of many people who inspire me.

Ok, enough of the mushy stuff. What is it about cleaning something until it's spotless that gives me such a sense of satisfaction? The bathroom here was disgusting. Ok, not disgusting. I guess it was average in terms of cleanliness. Hair on the floor and a dirty sink and shower. I guess most people would be able to tolerate it. I am not one of those people. I am the type of person who cannot stand a smidgen of hair on the floor (or the wall, or the shower, or the sink...you get my point), dust on the toilet cover, or spots on the mirror. In other words, the bathroom must be so clean I could feel comfortable putting a plate of food on the floor. So an hour later, the bathroom is now so clean it could be a showroom floor model. I kept turning on the light just to smile and look at it. Obviously it won't stay clean for long, but at least I can shower and use the bathroom with satisfaction for a few days. Ahhhh. 

Apologies for the lack of transition sentences between each paragraph, but I just had to get everything out. I can't wait to get back into a routine and do the things that allow me to feel like myself. I haven't had a good yoga session in what feels like eons, my body feels like flabby flub. That's exacerbated by the fact that I've been eating not-so-good food since I haven't had time to cook. Unfortunately I think routine is something that will escape me a bit longer. I start training in SF for two weeks so I'll be living out of a suitcase at my sister's. During part of that time I go back to LA for Thanksgiving. Oh black suitcase, you and I will have many more extended intimate moments together. Get excited.