October 17 Sunday
I’m in a place called Grass Valley. I slept in my car. The sun is just coming up, now. I slept well. I moved the “bed” up into the passenger seat, leaving more room for my legs. I wore 2 jackets and blasted the heater before turning off the car.
Last night, I was upset. Chico was a cute college town, but I still was unsure. I drove away, randomly picking streets. It got dark and I got angry at tailgaters. I’m uncomfortable driving so fast in such a dark area where the road curves and wildlife could jump out. So, I pressed “home” on the GPS. “Get me out of here.” I still miss my cat. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I feel lost and confused.
I had pizza last night. I still feel guilty about eating food—any food. I want to lose weight. Blech. Fuck it. I ended up in Grass Valley because it was on the way home and I remember someone mentioning it. It’s another cute town. All these places are cute. I’m not going to bother trying to figure it out. I’ll just find a place to wash up, walk around for a bit, then head home. Fuck everything. Maybe I’m meant to be in the state where I currently live. Still… I think I have a small feeling that there’s something here in Grass Valley that I need to see. Maybe daylight is just the thing I need, to see clearly.
I grabbed some bakery food and the worker suggested I check out Penn Valley. She gave me directions on paper, but I zoned out and drove too far. I turned around and felt sick… maybe slight food poisoning? I stopped at a Chevron gas station, unsure if I was going to puke or shit. Afterwards, I still felt sick.
I saw a guy stick out his thumb for hitchhiking. I had a knee-jerk reaction and I pulled over before i even consciously realized I was pulling over. I made some room for him, still surprised by the subconscious action. His name was Jimmy and he was very friendly. I told him my brief story and he offered to show me around. We visited the nearby old west town, “Rough and Ready.” The town isn’t much bigger than as far as a person could spit into the wind. It had a little old west set-up, on display. Jimmy showed me around and where he lived. It’s technically in Smartville—a town with some houses and a post office.
So wow. I made a friend. That was pretty cool.
I have no itinerary anymore, so I didn’t mind waiting as he grabbed a few groceries in the store. I spoke to a woman in the parking lot. We both agreed and love and feminine energy is what the world needs. She liked my bumper stickers. Her name is Kathy.
Nice people, here in Grass Valley.
I saw that an event was at the fairgrounds and I stopped to take a look. Vendors were there. I bought soap bars, locally made.
A guy selling bonsai plants was there. He is good at recognizing the gardeners. “Gardener vibes,” I guess. I told him the short version of my story. He offered to hire me before I even mentioned I would be looking for a job in California. I wonder what made him say that? But he seems really cool. He works out of his home. The bonsai business isn’t that big… not yet… not enough to employ me. But he gave me his card. I’ll see how things unfold. I still don’t want to do design. I want to be a gardener—a caretaker of the earth, plants, and animals. If this will end up being my job, with the bonsai guy, then all I need now is a place to live. And living out of my car does not count!
A guy with his wife at the soap stand recognized me. He works in the pizza place I visited last night. I guess my haircut makes me memorable. Maybe my energy, too, on a subconscious level. I seem to be a memorable person, I guess.
I want to find a place to hang out and relax… like in Dunsmuir. Read my book.
It’s raining this afternoon.