This is a picture of my maternal grandfather who came to this country from the Philippines, he dyed his hair and changed his age. He lived with us for a short time when I was a little girl. My recollection of how he came to live with us goes something like this. My mom had been searching for him and found him living in downtown Los Angeles.  The reacquainted efforts lasted for awhile and while he lived with my brother and I, he was a wonderful cook and babysitter.  The status of my parents marriage was sketchy at best and I remember my dad’s  presence was fading which probably causes action on my mom’s part. The proverbial “writing on the wall” was looming over like a gray cloud, the situation was not clear and it felt cold. I saw my grandfather more as entertainment than anything else. He permed his hair, made most of a polyester ensemble and hit on my mom’s friend’s. He also  made himself 10 to 15 years younger which benefitted him in the short term then punished him in the long end. I heard he had to work well into his 80’s as a cook. He died several years before my mom found him again. And the items in his tiny unit in downtown LA were held for 90 days then dismissed somehow. I feel terribly sad now because he didn’t want to necessarily be involved with us and his desire to slip back into anonymity had to be respected.  As I see it he was especially fond of my brother who I felt got much needed attention then sadly shortchanged in this whole scenario. My  brother was without a father in the home during the years where it counted the most.  So when people ask me my nationality I tell them I am Mexican with a little Flip…from Cebu.
 

Porterville laundromat and I beat the crowd. I was in a micro dilemma having to be out of the house by noon before my house sitting expired. I left behind my Woolite detergent behind so I decide to use an Avon bathing product to substitute. Agriculture and livestock reminders are everywhere. Signage says “no horse blankets or  picking bags ” I’ve done laundry by hand, in a river and on a boat, so what a little creamy body wash gonna do? Beautiful rain made its much needed debut and I finally got the bigger picture of the drought situation here in Porterville. People who live in certain parts of town state their wells have dried up completely and those least likely to afford it have to purchase water. “Why?” I ask. The locals say companies here sell it to southern California.

Lucky for me I found  a site on the social network that shares information and insight about traveling nurses.  Discussions of contracts, tax options and stipends are insightful and helpful but from what I can tell there is quite a few people wanting to reach out to others or at least ask en masse what one does about the loneliness. i am alone but not lonely.  Being a traveler is kinda of a solitary event, driving to your location, entering a new place and finding housing. Most go at it alone and others hook up the fifth wheel and live out their contract at a RV park with family in tow. The weird  thing is now I’m beginning to prefer it more at this time in my life than ever before.  “People do it all the time”  and some people are especially good at it.  Is that why girls go the bathroom together? Have play dates with other mom’s or avoid going out if no one else is up for it. Songs like “All By My Self” or “One Is The Loneliest Number” make me second guess myself but I get over it quickly because are we really all alone?

NELSON HERE IT IS!
1. The people
2. No matter where you are, you will
     Hear someone say “Porterville” at
     Least once a day.
3. Sense of community and honesty
     “There’s not much going on here in
     ‘Porterville'”.
4. The Manfest at my hotel. Firemen &
     Construction guys in mob like
     fashion at the 6am breakfast buffet
5.  The rolling unoccupied hills of ochre
      and almond.
6. The night which is both quiet.     
      Peaceful and the abundance of
      twilight.
7.  Orange Works. A tri-tip sandwich
      enhanced with a roasted garlic
      spread  finished with a thin slice
      bleu cheese, that would make Julia
      Child proud.
8.  Cost of living is reasonable and not
      gouging which is a refreshing relief.
9.  Just about everyone say “good
      Morning” accompanied by good
      eye contact  and a sense that they
      mean it.
10. SENSE OF HUMOUR. I hear
       laughing more then whining or
       sighing.

I’m sitting in a tiny lunch room in a big hospital  in Porterville California.  Deliciously listening to my new co-workers chat and enjoying a garlic laden tri-tip sandwich (the perks of the job). I drove only 3 hours from Los Angeles but this is different place.  All farmland and rows of deep forrest green shrub like trees with their tops shaved off. Oranges and lemons I am told are the main crops but I’m sure there are others. Evidence of drought is obvious but it’s part of nature. Like a blonde surfers back the hills are smooth, strong and comforting.  I shared , with my lunch companions, that “once you let the cat out of the bag” …even when asked “Where do you live?” “Well in a truck and Las Vegas but not really til late Oct. And sometimes in “The Cement capital of the United States”.  Irwindale California.  And Huntington Beach but not til 2017. I feel compartmentalize but it’s not a bad thing or is it?  I do feel at home here. I find it interesting that most of the peeps I’ve encountered, may go away for awhile like to school or the military but they find their way back easily. I guess it’s a spiritual thing because when I am  less distracted by the “stuff”, there is  room to be closer to God nature  and family and this seems to be the unwritten law here in Porterville.

I have, in a nutshell, woven a series of events or mishaps into  tapestry of sorts. I wish to apologize for quasi-abandoming this blog.  Planning a month long trip to Southeast Asia I panicked when I realized I was not  going back into the OR once I returned from the road….darn.  And  getting back out on the road was out. What’s a gal to do? Start applying for OR positions like crazy. And then there were crickets. One major hospital said “didn’t meet criteria” one interviewer said was “over qualified” translates to “we rather pay less and new grads are chosen” Nursing is funny and fickle. Experience counts but gaps in employment don’t. I chose nursing specifically so I could travel. Then I got pounced on by several nursing agencies and their goal is to land a fish, filet the heck out of it and if nurse is lucky she’d get the  scales.  One particular agency was aggressive and told me this position  pays 35 an hour. I said “that is new grad pay.” “Well how much do you want? Back and forth ensued then I dropped them when they said “we will give you a 10 dollar stipend” “So 45 an hour?” Sensed hesitation the “Yes yes”  a ten dollar stipend is 10 dollars a day and not 45 an hour. They called often throughout the day set up interviews and pushed “so are you accepting the job…right….yes” when I asked to “think about it” the agency gal put her boss on the phone to put the squeeze on. Bottom line I choose a reputable agency and taking an 8 week OR  assignment in Porterville California. Porterville is a farming community with rich farmland and their owners, who I’ve heard, seek out their health care elsewhere because they can.  And that’s fine I wish to treat any and all people regardless of their livelihood.  I have no idea what I’m walking into, so cheers Mazel Tov to another adventure.

From time to time I succumb to the trappings of a tourist. The tours offered up to catch a glimpse of the Matt Damons or Hotels where  a tryst between you know her and him took place. TMZ tour happened to be a one trick pony but the non-celebrity status of it all  made it enjoyable. Locals Bearing gifts, how did they know there was a bride-to-be on board.  I had the best company and we yelled  screamed and giggled at the delight of it all.  Thank you Roseanne and Jennifer.

The saying is as ubiquitous as drinking milk. I have so many things to say about these last several months. I read one of my recent entries, which I state I’m glad to be back at the surgery center. I’ve should of said I’m glad I have nursing to return to until my next adventure. I am both restless and contemplative. I’m still concern about the TV commercials that portray men as inept and lost without a female. Men are neither so I’ll be glad when it stops. I’m thinking there is no word to express this habit of thinking my time with my mom is finite and who will I be without her? A surge of tears overwhelmed me. I was merely  playing an app game where it says “Marilynn gave you a life” who am I if not Marilynn’s daughter which I seem to introduce myself aplomb. And although I am not homeless I want my condo back and  October can’t get here soon enough. Lastly I love the quality of my problems. “Like my Cadillac is in the shop” I watched a 1500 meter individual medley swim match on TV. This gal breaks a world record and  is a Stanford grad. I imagined her life. To be the best in the whole entire world what must that be like?  And if that isn’t enough she was delightful in the post swim interview. I’m hormonal, angry and sad and yet underneath this temporary cloud something wonderful awaits. For this I am grateful.

This picture was taken over a couple years ago. Brian, the driver and I along with two local helpers on my first move in Flagstaff AZ. I was excited to begin a new adventure and has been just that.  I’ve transported a Rembrandt and I’ve transported used kitty litter. I’ve met people who wouldn’t acknowledge my presence and others who became friends.  “We are movers and there happens to be a truck involved” I get that now. The truck has been my primary home. I’ve gone from getting up during the night putting on clothes and walking across a large lot to use the bathroom to peeing in a cup. I used to place the blackout curtains up to block both light and noise now I just turn and face the back wall. I say the “F” word more as part of the vernacular than out of anger or expression of road rage. I mustered up the courage to tell the driver that I’ve had my fill and I want out of the truck. Of course I’ll finish up the season  He’ll ask what are you going to do?  Wo bu zhi dao. ” I don’t know”.

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