packing up and moving on

I didn't move around a lot as a child. My family moved once, when I was 8, into the house in which my parents currently live. This is probably the norm, one or even no moves as a child. But since graduating from high school, I think I have moved at least 10 times, and this feels strangely abnormal. It's a lot of packing up all my stuff in boxes and moving them.

Needless to say, I think I'm pretty good at moving. I don't know what not being good at moving looks like, but if I can use friends who I have helped move as a barometer, then I think I'm pretty good at it. I practically have a moving system. I start (well in advance of course, in this case, the middle of August) by packing up my books, anything hanging on my walls, and my winter clothes. Or in this case, all of my clothes. And bedding. Because of the flea invasion, if you recall. Anyway, then I move on to pack up the kitchen and anything I don't use on a regular basis, like my bundt pan. Then, eventually everything gets packed up, the rest of the kitchen, the bathroom, and I disassemble my desktop computer (or in this case, Drew disassembles my desktop). I pack practically every last thing in boxes and I neatly label them. I am that organized. Or anal retentive. It's all in how you frame it, I suppose.

Drew and I finished packing up my apartment last weekend. I didn't think I had that much stuff, but when it's all boxed up and out in the open, it looks like a lot. I'm not a minimalist, but I'm definitely not a hoarder. Every few months or so I actually go through all my stuff and purge anything I don't need or use. Since I tend to think through my purchases and try not to buy what I don't need (except in the case of Bath & Body Works products), I usually don't get rid of a lot of stuff.

The big move and the merging of stuff is happening this weekend. I'm looking forward to it, but I'll miss my apartment, but only a little bit. It helps when you have chain smoking neighbors smoking on the steps and strewing ashes everywhere. I won't miss that.

school!

Today was the first day of classes. I wish I had something more thoughtful to say here, but I don't. But it is sure to amuse you. It's just that I've been thinking about the past 4 years I've spent in grad school, and for the past few weeks, I've been running into people I haven't seen all summer, and so I have decided that the following are my greatest accomplishments in the last 4 years:

1. I have no gray hairs. Yup, my hair is still completely black. I find a single random gray hair every few months, but no more since I began grad school.
2. I have not gained any weight. Sure, my weight has fluctuated by 5-7 pounds, but for the most part, I am the same size and weight as I started 4 years ago.
3. I am not balding. Still have a full head of hair. Shorter perhaps, but still a full head.

fall!

I had my first pumpkin spice latte the other day, which I guess means that fall is here. Judging by some of my friends' Facebook statuses, I'm not the only one who takes pumpkin spice lattes (or anything pumpkin really) as an indicator that the seasons have changed. There have been other clues, too. The weather is getting a tad chilly (this is relative, of course), grocery stores are stocking up on some beautiful pumpkins and squashes, and I found some canned pumpkin at Trader Joe's.

On a different subject, I know I'm going to sound young and maybe even a little foolish for saying this, but I'll say it anyway: I don't know what life was like before the internet. I've said this aloud many times, so I figured that it was about time that I put it in "writing." Just a few minutes ago, I googled "how to store pomegranates." And the internet gave me the answer. In case you're wondering, pomegranates will keep for one month undisturbed and out of the sunlight on your kitchen counter, or 3 months undisturbed and in the refrigerator. Amazing.

I consult the internet for many things I don't know. For example, one day I had to jump start my car, but I didn't know exactly how to do it. Drew was graciously helping me of course, and even though he knew how to do this, I was stubborn and wouldn't let him do it. After all, I didn't want to embody the female stereotype and delegate car stuff to a man. And besides, what would I do if he wasn't available? Consult the internet, of course! And so I did.

I use the internet to learn stuff (how to freeze vegetables, how to temper an egg, how to can), but I also use it to get from Point A to Point B. I have no idea what life was like before google maps. Seriously. My GPS system is a collection of fold up maps in my car, but even I cannot fathom how people got to places that they did not know.

I don't do everything on the internet, even if it seems like I do. I do use it for communication and for research. But I prefer to consult travel books when planning a trip. And when I really want to learn a new skill, I consult real books. When I decided that I wanted to learn to can, I consulted the internet as an initial guide, but I ended up buying the canning bible, also known as the Ball Guide to Canning and Preserving. I try out recipes on my favorite food blogs, but I still prefer cookbooks. And until very recently, I still read an actual newspaper instead of the online version.

I know the internet isn't always a good thing. While I'm googling "how to make a french knot," someone else might be googling "how to make a bomb." While I use the internet as a communication tool, some people abuse it and use it to stalk and bully people, and sometimes worse. The internet makes it easier to access the good stuff, but it also makes it easier to do the bad stuff. But, there are downsides to everything. I still love the internet. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to catch up on the morning news.

virginia!

Drew and I are back from Virginia. I had a pleasant and relaxing week. We visited friends, finally finished his tattoo (well we didn't, but the tattoo artist did), and ate at the Waffle House 3 times! Does it get any better than that?

We took a little tour of Floyd with Drew's parents, taking a drive along the parkway. His parents live in Floyd County, and Floyd is in rural southwestern Virginia. Fall was in the air; the leaves were starting to change colors and there are pumpkins in the store! We stopped at the Mabry Mill and had a nice walk around.

Then we headed to the Floyd Country Store for the Friday Night Jamboree. The Floyd Country Store is pretty much what it sounds like: a country store. It sells kitchen gadgets, outdoor gear, children's toys, music, books and cookbooks, and foods like jams, molasses, apple butters, and hushpuppy mixes. There is a small section where you can get prepared food, baked goods, and ice cream.

The Friday Night Jamboree features three bands that each play for an hour to an hour and a half. It draws a good crowd, but one with an average age of about 65 years old. For the first hour, I think that Drew and I were the youngest ones there. After about an hour, more people arrived, including a few tourists and a handful of others who were in our age range.

The crowd wasn't that diverse, but there were people who embodied many Southern and rural stereotypes. I saw a kid wearing a camo hat with a fish hook and a Ford symbol. Three stereotypes rolled into one! I saw a couple guys wearing shirts with confederate flags. I saw a couple other guys wearing t-shirts, with the sleeves cut off. And, this might be the best one, I saw a guy wearing a t-shirt with a confederate flag, sleeves cut off, a cowboy hat, cowboy boots, and a huge gap between his two front teeth. I overheard him talking, and I couldn't decipher his words. The only way for me to describe his thick accent is to say that he spoke some form of "banjo." There is no other way to describe it.

Although I found the crowd and the people-watching amusing, the bluegrass music and the dancing was equally entertaining. The dance floor was packed with people clogging, which kind of looks like a lot of stomping around combined with tap dancing. Oh and clogging isn't gendered either; women and men alike clog. Tap shoes seemed to be the preferred clogging footwear, even among the men. (but you can do it without the tap shoes too)

I had a great time, and I would definitely go to the Friday Night Jamboree again. It was quite the place to be, or as Drew said, the ONLY place to be. And now I will leave you with this funny joke, told by one of the musicians:

My friend was visiting me in Asheville, from Boston. (by the way, any time a joke starts off with "my friend from [insert Northern city/state here] was visiting me," you know that humor will come at the expense of the Yankee) It was around Christmas time, and everywhere we went in Asheville, we saw nativity scenes with 3 firemen instead of 3 wise men. She asked me why the firemen replaced the wise men, and I said I didn't know, having lived in Asheville for only a short period of time. Finally, she asked a local, who said "Don't you Yankees read the bible? It says that 3 wise men came from afar!"

Get it? Get it? "Came from afar!" Say it aloud. Hahahahaha!

virginia is for lovers

Drew and I left for D.C. last Thursday night for the annual political science geek fest, I mean, the annual meeting of the American Political Science Association. The conference went well, I met some interesting people, and I got to visit with some old friends. It was a pretty quick trip; we left Sunday morning for southwestern Virginia to visit his parents.

The South kind of freaks me out. (Of course, so does Orange County, what with all the breast implants and botox.) But really, the South kind of freaks me out. The Southern drawl, the confederate flags, the racism (I think "It's heritage, not racism" is the battle cry around here), the bad hair, and the camo. I'm exaggerating, but just a little bit. I just don't trust people who think they will rise again (never mind that they didn't do it the first time). I saw a guy with what I thought was a gun in his holster, but Drew reassured me that it was really a maglight. It didn't matter, I kept my distance. Oh, AND he was wearing a hat with a confederate flag. The guy with the maglight, not Drew, in case you needed the clarification.

I think that the main reason that the South freaks me out is because I'm Asian. So I guess that I've brought this upon myself, in a sense. It's just that I get quite self conscious here because there are like no Asian people here. Maybe I'm being extra paranoid and sensitive, but I just feel like everyone is staring at me (and sometimes they are- really). And because I'm not certain that people in the South have encountered too many Asian people, I feel like I have to represent "my race" and do it well. So because of me, people in the South probably think all Asian people are super friendly and smiley. You're welcome.

There are some things that I really like about the South. Like the Waffle House. I have discussed my fondness for the Waffle House many times. I adore it. The closest one is in Phoenix, and believe me, Drew and I have contemplated making the 6 or 7 hour drive just for the greasy diner food (superior to all other diner food, of course). I like other Southern food too. Like banana pudding. And hush puppies. And any greens. I also like how cheap everything is here. I saw gas for only $2.32 a gallon somewhere. The last time I filled up in Irvine, I paid $3.21 per gallon. Just today, I excitedly said to Drew "Check out how many donuts I got for $3!" It was 7 by the way, and for $2.85 to be precise. And Drew and I stopped by a coffee shop and got iced coffee and a hazelnut latte for a total of $4.97. We couldn't believe it. What has SoCal done to us?