Sold!

Out of nowhere I got closing documents and money wire information for my desert property, so cash was sent and escrow has closed! I am now a derelict desert property owner!

I am continuing to reach out to contractors that all ignore me. Today I texted my old handyman who said he’s no longer in the business, but funnily enough, just finished rehabbing his (now) ex-wife’s tiny cabin in - guess what - Wonder Valley. He did to it pretty much what we want done to ours - basically, make it livable. Too funny. He said he’d chat with me over the weekend about it, but I’m going to guess he may have tips but won’t want to take on the job. La lucha continua.

I am in the process of setting up my event - I had a good chat with my new sound guy, and am getting ready to transfer last year’s people who requested it and have them verify their information. I still have a month to make a decision in case things turn around, but right now everything looks good. 

The local rec center announced that they are holding summer camp and would open registration at 9 AM the next day, so I got in and registered B & T for one week in June and two weeks in August. The two weeks might be taken up by school - we don’t have a fall start date yet - and all weeks in July are mostly taken up by camping trips I booked when I thought we wouldn’t have vaccines yet and there would be no dance event. My, how things have changed. So the kids will mostly be with me at home this summer, but I figure as long as I can have August to myself, I can get the work done I need to. Then next summer, atheist sleep away camp! 

Three big events - two down, one to go

So much of life right now is setting small goals and achieving them. For the last month I’ve had three big upcoming events; two are now done. The first was transitioning kids back to school. This one makes the most difference in my current every day life and routines.

The second will affect my future life. After waiting four months and a false start two weeks ago, this morning I logged on to the SBA website and submitted my application for the save our stages grant, after making it my full-time job for the last few days to prepare the necessary voluminous paperwork. I have never been so goddamned prepared for anything in my life - not moving to LA, not having a baby, not anything. I prepared a file folder of probably 60 documents - financial, social media related, contracts, stage plots, official paperwork, attestations, etc etc. I did monthly accounting for the 27 months required, including earned income vs gross earned income. I ran ticket reports. I learned how to convert a png file to a jpg file. I leaned into my terror of technology and figured out how to work an Authenticator app. I wrote a proposed budget. I found my “doing business as” filing from 1998. I tore the house apart for my business license, only to find it in the last place I looked - the safe. I read, annotated, and re-read the 57 page user guide. I had checklists of checklists. This grant can go any way - I may, or may not get it, no matter how well prepared or qualified I am. I just wanted to make sure I did the absolute best I could, and I believe I did. I nearly had a heart attack waiting for the portal to open this morning. But by 10 AM I was done. Now...we wait. 

In other good news, it looks like the seller of the desert property was smart in changing title companies; this one has cleared the “clouds” and it appears we’re moving forward to actual escrow which could still take another thirty days. I don’t know any of this for sure but it does appear we’ve removed the road blocks. So maybe by Memorial Day we’ll own this place free and clear...? And then do nothing with it until it cools down out there by October! 

The final of the three events is my final vaccine, which occurs a week from Wednesday. I am afraid of what it will do to me physically. It’s weird to think of volunteering yourself to become very sick for a few days. Or not! Even after that I have to wait two weeks to be really safe. But three weeks from Wednesday I can be mostly assured I will not get covid, or at least not get it enough to become very ill or die, which is better than what could happen with no vaccine. 

One step at a time.

First week

The first week of school actually went better than I anticipated. Things were a bit messy and disorganized - and I know damned well that, despite the staff’s best efforts, it’s going to be next to impossible to keep children consistently six feet apart - but there were no major problems, which was surprising. No outbreaks, no weirdness over schoolwork not getting done (Theo is supposed to do all of his during afterschool and has shockingly actually done it), no messages from teachers pointing out kids’ transgressions. Yet. Seven weeks to go. One step at a time.

The kids are delighted to be back. They are completely different kids. They are so excited to tell me everything that happened when I pick them up. Kids need school. They really do. I wasn’t crazy when I felt like there’s nothing I can do around here to truly replicate the school experience. I know LAUSD is considering summer school or other activities; I’m not sure what it’ll look like, but I may sign the kids up for some things if that’s possible. I’d be crazy not to take advantage of free stuff even if it only frees me up an hour or two a week. That may be an answer to summer childcare issues. 

Since yesterday I have been in grant preparation hell; the big grant that opened on the 8th and then immediately shut for two weeks was supposed to open today so I spent all day preparing the mountains of paperwork for it, only to get an email saying they decided to move it to Monday. So now I’ve spent all day today writing contracts, personnel lists, quarterly financial reports going back 2 1/4 years, saving screenshots of social media posts, and printing and scanning forms. I mean this kind of thing is normally my jam, but ugh. Considering how much could be at stake, though, I get it - and it’s a grant, not a loan, so even though they’re up your ass until you prove you spent the money on what you were supposed to, it’s still pretty life-changing. Thankfully they have a user guide that walks you through every aspect of the application - I’ve scoured all 57 pages of it twice now to make sure I have every single thing ready. I’m sure when they open at 9 AM on Monday it’s going to be a total shit show as thousands of performing arts people pile on to get they paper. I expect it to crash immediately. But hey - at least I’ll be prepared. I’ve done the hardest part. 

My brain is mush. It feels like tax time only a thousand percent more difficult and scary. In the end, it doesn’t really matter if I don’t get it - I’ll make it to February whether I have an event this year or not. But I would be irritated if I didn’t get it, considering how this loan is 100% for people like me who had to go dark for one-two years, and how much I had to scramble and take money out of my house to make ends meet, and how difficult it may be to rebuild my business after all this mess. Anyway.

Just a week and a half until my next shot. I feel the freedom coming. 

End of the pandemic, kinda

Bobby started school today along with all other second and third graders. Tomorrow the 4th-6th graders start and we have a full school. Things are still a bit disorganized and messy but so far everyone is being chill. Information changes every day. I’m just taking the week to focus on getting into this new rhythm (which, of course, will be upended in seven weeks). 

I had to take a moment to think about how things looked and felt the last time I dropped the kids off together - March 13, 2020, Theo’s birthday, in which I pulled up the car and turned around and told them to be extra nice to their teachers and friends because they may not see them for a long time (little did I suspect how long) - and how different things are now. And what a good place I’m at, mentally and emotionally.

A year later, and we’ve all managed to stay healthy. Both me and the BF are two weeks away from our second shot, which means we are already 80% protected against infection. I’m planning for my event to return, and it’s very likely to happen, and could be an incredible celebration of life if it does. I managed to channel my need to organize experiences into awesome trips for the family, which kept us all sane, taught me a new appreciation for my adopted state, and may have started a lifelong love of the desert (property still in jeopardy, but a lot of activity has happened this week between the title company and escrow company so there may be some progress there). The government help has been tremendous and I want for nothing. And the thing I feared most (other than being sick or dying) - that my relationship would not survive the stress of being in each other’s faces constantly, unemployment, and general pandemic depression - turned out to not be an issue at all. We have definitely grown closer because of covid - he’s really stepped up to be a contributing part of this family, taken a huge burden off me, and kept me feeling safe and loved. I know myself and this shit would have been hard and lonely without him. And I never would have headed into the desert alone with two kids, not ever. Having a partner that actually helps and contributes? Gold, I tell you. 

So I don’t think I would have predicted this as the end of my pandemic story; I think I would have pictured myself a lot more ragged and bitter at this point. But I’m not bitter. I don’t intend to hang on to the horror of last year. I intend to move on and never speak of it again. We survived. Science saved us, and sooner than we’d predicted. Kids are back at school. Events are starting. Today our band got our first gig offer - and of course I can’t do it because we’ll be camping that weekend. My sister will make her first LA visit in...gosh, probably almost two years, as our last visit we headed to Florida. My book clubs and movie clubs are planning our first in-person meets. I got through all of this without yelling at anyone or gaining a ton of weight, both things I was afraid of. 

It’s all happening. Right now I’m just full of gratitude, and it feels good. 

Could things go the wrong way for California? Sure. We’re all watching and waiting. Next month will be very telling as people in the last tier like me finally get full immunity and the last stragglers come through at the end. Personally - I think we’ll be fine. As much as the pandemic exponentially gets out of control, it also exponentially gets under control as the virus finds fewer and fewer people to infect due to immunity from vaccines or Christmastime infections. It’s not gone - and I don’t mean to be flippant about the tremendous suffering in many parts of the world. That could have been us, under a Trump second term. Shudder. But for now we’re getting to the end, and I’m overjoyed about that. 

Theo’s first day

Woke up an hour early today to hustle the kid (Theo) to his first day of school. It was surreal. As it was the first day for the school in general, it was a bit messy at the door - different people took his temperature three times, nobody knew what line to stand in, nobody was social distancing, but everyone was in good spirits. The “daily pass” I had printed the night before had expired (hence the term “daily”) so Theo was asked a series of health questions instead (and answered very definitively with a straight back and strong voice, bless him), then led off to the classroom he’s never been in. And that was it.

I hung with Bobby all day, and despite my intentions of going out and doing something fun and then walking up to the school, we instead just went to In n Out and then drove up to pick up Theo (to be fair the Chauvin verdict was threatening to drop during this time and I was a little afraid of being out and about. Instead watched it on CNN and had tears of relief). 

Theo had a great day. Without prompting, he said he was so glad to be back at school, and I’m so glad his day involves more than watching gamer videos and meme compilations. One of the reasons I wanted afterschool for him. I don’t know if Bobby will have the same reaction - he’s an introvert and really just wants to play Roblox all day. But hopefully some part of his soul will be fed by just being in the presence of other children. 

I don’t expect this to not be a bit bumpy at times - bringing other people into your life will always bring some conflict. But boy is it going to be great to have something resembling something normal around here. Drop kids at school. Pick kids up from school. Hear about their day but also have no idea what goes on at school and be happy about that. That’s how it should be.

While waiting for the verdict I started plotting a fantasy Greek island trip for me and a friend for sometime in the future. I absolutely loved the Greek islands on a tour I did some 12-13 years ago. I would love to go back, especially to get to stay at amazing Airbnbs there, which are cheap and plentiful. Well. Aspirational travel is my new passion. I’ve mentioned that, haven’t I??

Here we go

School returns tomorrow, although nothing like we remember it. Hopefully this eight week blip will be just that. A strange in-between time of social distancing at school until normalcy returns in earnest in the fall. Maybe.

One of many firsts, I took the kids for their first proper haircut in probably a year and a half today. I will also do my first grocery trip this week. Might even squeeze in an actual household shopping trip as well. And outdoor lunches. Lots of those.

I’ve assembled Theo’s backpack and printed his Daily Pass. I wrote a note to myself to not forget his school-issued ipad and charger, and wrote his name in his masks. The BF bought the boys lace-up shoes yesterday; we had a crash course in shoe tying last night and they kind of get it, but we agreed they’ll wear Velcro shoes at least this week. I can’t wait twenty minutes for them to tie both their own shoes in the morning, and if they come untied (and they will) the teachers can’t get close enough to help them. So, strange times, huh? “No lace-up shoes” is not a consequence of the pandemic I would have predicted. 

Until an hour ago I still didn’t know what time I’d be picking up Theo yet - there’s been no communication about afterschool availability. Finally emailed the principal (I hate to be a bother) and she confirmed it’s on, so I’ll be picking up Theo at 4 and not 11 AM. It’s going to be weird having Bobby home alone all day. I wish they had the older kids going in first so the littler kids don’t have to be the guinea pigs, but c’est la vie. Then Wednesday they both go.

This is it, the moment I’ve dreamed of for thirteen months, never in my wildest dreams thinking it would be this long. Part of me has to make that mental adjustment all parents have to make upon sending their kids away somewhere - they won’t be under my protection anymore. They will be back under the influence of other kids and adults. They will be potentially in unsafe situations. Nobody will be monitoring if they’re eating properly or cleaning up. God knows how Bobby’s ongoing toilet issues will be during these long days. I guess we’ll find out the hard way. 

In the meantime...yay?

Final Friday

After months of our ritual, today was our last visit to In n Out for lunch after school on Friday. Not wanting our pleasant afternoon to end, I took us to a playground (which Theo wanted to go to and Bobby didn’t; then Theo wanted to leave but Bobby didn’t). Then halfway home decided I wasn’t ready to come home still, so turned around, put down the windows and opened the sunroof, let my hair fly free, blasted some Zeppelin and headed to the drive thru Baskin Robbins. 

Freedom can be very addictive. 

What will it feel like when these kids are back in school next week? I can’t even imagine. The person I was last February who thought even keeping the kids home one week for the teacher’s strike was a huge imposition doesn’t exist anymore; we’ve all been worn to the nub having to endure things we never could have imagined back then. If nothing else, we are highly adaptable. I picture the end of next week will be a bit like my first week of self-employment after leaving my last 9-5 job at the end of 1999: a bit gluttonous, a bit self-indulgent, a bit lazy and entirely unhinged. It’ll be like stumbling out of a comfortable cave into the cold moonlight. It’s going to take some adjustment. 

At the last second we have *probably* been approved for afterschool care; according to our principal, they are working with an outside agency to accommodate all 212 families that requested it. I was emailed application forms and dropped them at the school yesterday. Walking by the school on my daily hike, I can see ominous white tents covering what used to be the basketball courts, reminiscent of the end of E.T. I’m not sure what those will be used for. I also don’t know what my kids’ school days will look like, especially with the added after-hours, which require a commitment of keeping the kids there until 4 PM every day, five days a week. I don’t know when the afterschool care starts. Next week is an enigma.

All I know for sure is Monday the boys have online school for a half hour and then some independent work; I’m preparing to take them on some kind of outdoor adventure for the remainder of the day, probably their favorite skate park that the BF usually takes them to. Then Tuesday Theo goes to school alone starting at 8 AM while Bobby stays home and might have a normal online schedule; then Wednesday Bobby starts. Every night I have to print out a health questionnaire for each boy, and line up for temperature checks and other covid theater to get them into the school building. Before they go back to actual school I have to clean out their backpacks (used only for camping for 13 months) and make sure they have all their supplies and books. 

I’ve seen pictures of sad masked kids sitting obediently at plexiglassed socially-distanced desks staring at devices accompanied by articles about how few LAUSD parents are sending their kids back to school this month; I definitely question if I’m doing the right thing. I worry that they’ll hate it or be scared by it; I worry that they’ll say they’re fine but then start doing things like peeing the bed at night or acting out; I’m worried they’ll catch covid despite all the safety measures in place. Bobby admitted on our camping trip that he was scared to go back to school - we did our best to assure him that it’s safe and he won’t get covid, and even if he did he’s a kid so it most likely wouldn’t have any affect on him, and he couldn’t pass it to us because we’re vaccinated. Of course, we won’t be fully vaccinated for five more weeks. And who knows about these variants that are more virulent for children? Will our school be the first one with a major outbreak? It’s the stuff of nightmares. 

Still, we’re doing it, because it’s important for these kids to have some semblance of school this year - teachers, other kids, recess. I would hate to think of them missing an entire grade experience. I don’t know why I care about this, but I do. And yes, some time alone during the day would be fabulous. This all falls apart in two months when school ends and I’m back to being the 24/7 caretaker of two young boys again. But we’re traveling so much this summer that there’s no point in trying to arrange summer camps. Not many appear to be open anyway.

Things are looking so grim regarding covid around the world that it’s hard to see the plight of other countries not eventually breaking through our comfortable California bubble; for many places, covid is at its worst right now. My prediction is the US will hit maximum vaccinations at 50-60% of the population; I think crazy conspiracy bullshit, laziness and complacency will forever prevent us from truly reaching herd immunity. Unless private businesses like mine really put our foot down and not allow participation from the unvaccinated, I think by this summer we’re going to find ourselves stuck in this miserable in-between land where we’re subject to endless outbreaks and closures; some of us protected but many not, and those not protected by vaccines slowly chipped away one by one over the next couple of years. It’ll be a bit like AIDS - first a raging death sentence causing the genocide of an entire population; then some treatments start to emerge, then people start to live with it, then preventative medicines start to mean less people catch it, but it’s still here. Covid is ridiculous because anyone (except children) can get vaccinated right now and be done with it, but many still won’t. It makes no sense. 

I just hope kids can continue to go to school safely. The idea of everything shuttering again and going back to kids home all day and being trapped...just...no.

Among the list of things I’ve started to plan for my long days to myself are: get a proper bra fitting and unceremoniously throw all my bras in the garbage; freshen up this house with new couch throw pillows and bedding (everything we have reeks of four people not leaving the house for thirteen months - I’m over it); hikes and lunches with friends; shopping just for the sake of shopping; farmer’s markets; resumption of family grocery trips for the first time since March 2020. I have only a few weeks to accomplish all this. Chop chop.

What everything going on in the world will mean for the possibility of my event this year, I just don’t know. I put it at about 50/50 right now. So much can happen either way for California and the US between now and Memorial Day. It’s an infuriating game of chicken. Can we get enough vaccines in arms to outrun the variants? As states - including ours - aggressively come out of hibernation, how can we continue to keep our numbers down, especially when it’s mostly young people out partying who are least likely to bother getting vaccinated? My big fear is that May will come and go and we still won’t have a clear picture of if events will be safe by September (although making it vaccine only pretty much answers that question). I can always open for registration and then cancel if I have to - won’t be the first time. Argh. Who knows??