Everyone visualize Darin and Diane finding the perfect house, ‘kay? Altogether now: you’re in a calm, peaceful place…there are Darin and Diane, walking into the perfect house for them and the kids…lots of space, a nice backyard, near a park…

I figure I get a couple of hundred people visualizing on this, we’ll have no problem.

Just very, very busy. Today, for example, I took Fia to the doctor, which involved telling her, calming her down, getting her dressed, telling her again where we were going, getting Darin to carry her to the car, and then letting her cling to me like a little minkey-baby while at the doctor’s. She didn’t talk at all while he was there, just made scared little nods and shakes of the head. “She talks, really really well,” I told him, but she wouldn’t make a sound.

The doctor left the exam room and Fia said, “We saw the doctor and it didn’t hurt at all!”

Then the nurse came in with the needle for the TB test. Heh.

After doing the eye test and drawing blood for a CBC test, we went to the doctor’s office for a finall wrap-up. He had some paperwork to do and ignored us for a bit. While we waited, Fia informed me of what we were going to do for the rest of the morning in great detail. Whereupon the doctor said, “So you can talk!”

You should have seen the look of consternation of Fia’s face. “Oh no, I’ve been found out!”

After the doctor’s I dropped Fia at a friend’s house while I took Simon to Gymboree, which is really “Baby and Parent Socialization Hour, with Parachutes.” Then we went back to the friend’s house, where we had an impromptu birthday party for Fia (can’t have too many of those, you know), before heading home, whereupon Fia and Simon were abducted by the babysitter to the zoo and I sat down to do two weeks’ worth of bills.

Whee. Ha.

It’s now 3 in the afternoon, which means I have a whole 90 minutes before the kids come back. So I have to run and do all my errands in the short amount of time I’ve got soon. Ciao.

I have a theory about what makes a compelling journal or blog—they have a story. As Len used to ask in thesis class: “What’s the story?” Where is this going? What are we focused on? What’s the goal? What’s the obstacle?

Story: it’s not just for novels or movies. It’s actually for your life. Well, stages in your life, anyway.

The “story” of the first incarnation of this journal was my going to USC for graduate school. What would life away from Darin be like? (Six months long, as it turned out.) What would getting a film degree be like? What would Southern California be like for someone who had (more or less) never lived anywhere but the Bay Area?

Nobody Knows Anything was the post-USC journal, the story of life beyond the master’s degree. Not quite as focused. I could have focused on having a baby, but…naaah. My raisons d’être were not as compelling for me. I stopped writing it.

I started up again because I kept wanting an outlet for non-purposeful writing. Which is not to say useless—just the scattered musings on various topics. And back in December I thought that would be the story of this journal.

The world moves in mysterious ways. Sometimes you have a story thrust upon you.

Mitch and Scott took our server back to the Bay Area with them so that the many domains we host would have the shortest downtime we could manage. Why would we have a downtime?

Because we’re moving back to the Bay Area as soon as we can find a house up there. Surprise!

§

Darin tells me not to worry. Yes, housing prices are completely insane, but the fact our friends’ Cupertino house that has roughly half the square footage of our LA house lists for more money is no reason to panic.

Okay. That’s not why I’m panicking. Well, actually, yes, it is, but that’s just one piece of the puzzle. Silicon Valley is a much different place now than when we left, and not just because of the stock market bubble. Not because of what happened there, but because we have kids now, which changes things drastically.

And most of the friends we have up there don’t have kids, which makes socializing more problematic than it was. Instead of dinners at 9 (or so), it’s dinner at 5:30, possibly at a restaurant that can handle kids but actually having dinner at home is a whole bunch easier. Bedtime is fixed; we have to be home by 6:45 at the latest. And if we get together with friends during an afternoon? The kids will be there, needing attention, wanting you to stop talking about the newest Blizzard game, wanting you to chase them around the yard. Deal with it.

I need to find other kids, and moms to talk to. I need to find a preschool. If anyone knows of a good developmental/progressive preschool in the Cupertino/Sunnyvale area, let me know. It’s going to be tough to find someplace that makes us as happy as Sophia’s current preschool does. But we can. We will.

Socially, Darin will have it slightly easier than I will at first. He will be going into the office every day and having intellectual discussions. I will be looking for parks and someone to talk to.

And yes, cry me a river, but I haven’t had to deal with both kids all day, all week since…well, ever. Even before we got a part-time babysitter I had Darin at home with me, ready to take baby Sophia from me when I needed a little time. I won’t have him now.

§

The week after Macworld Darin was offered the job of Manager of the Safari project. He almost didn’t take it. Too much discombobulation of our lives. Selling our house, finding a new one. He’d have to go into the office every day instead of being home and seeing the kids. We’d lose Sophia’s preschool. We’d lose the most wonderful babysitter on the planet.

Then he got a hold of himself and said, “Am I nuts?” Of course he should take this job.

I’ve always known we would eventually move back to the Bay Area, but I realize now my thoughts on this matter were roughly on par with the way I always knew I’d get married, I just never really thought about the steps required to get there. Whenever I thought about moving back up north I envisioned it would just happen. Wiggle of the nose and blam! We live in Silicon Valley.

Turns out it’s not going to happen that way. Dammit. We did deal with our LA house already: a friend of ours wants to buy it. (Here we thought he enjoyed coming over to visit us. In fact, he was secretly measuring the place for drapes the entire time.) I’ve been trying to arrange our househunting trip, checking the Multiple Listing Service for the area (and weeping every time I do when I look at the prices). I’ve investigated the Cupertino and Sunnyvale school districts (despite my current desire to homeschool, one can never be too certain). And yes, we have to live somewhere near there, because I want Darin’s commute to the office to be as short as possible. Currently it’s 20 seconds. It’s going to be hard to beat that.

I asked Darin, “Does Apple understand that you cannot possibly work as many hours for them while going into the office as you do telecommuting?”

He nodded and said, “I’ve explained it to them.”

But does Apple understand it?

§

I’m going to miss LA. It’s not chic to say that—in fact, most conversations around here seem to include in them, somewhere, the phrase, “When I get out of LA…” You’ll be in the supermarket, asking someone about cereal, and suddenly you’re hearing about their relocation plans. But I’ve really liked LA. Some very important things have happened here. I learned a lot about myself here. I had my babies here.

I told one of the moms at Sophia’s dance class we were moving. Without hesitating, she said, “Oh, it’s better. It really is. I’d move if we could.” Her husband works in TV. They have to live here.

Instead of knowing a ton of people who I can talk movies and TV and writing with, I’m going to run into people who want to discuss processor religions and coding styles. I’m going to have to work a little harder to find a writing group. Eeek.

Anyhow. So that’s what Darin and I are up to. That’s what’s on my mind these days.

If you know of any absolutely great houses going for a song within, oh, ten miles of Infinite Loop…feel free to drop me a line.