days 5, 6, 7: Portland to Green Bay

After a nice rest in Portland, we hauled ass to the middle of Montana, where we spent the night at my cousin's house. And then we drove through North Dakota and spent the night in Bismarck, which was quite an experience. First off, let me say that driving through North Dakota was not nearly as painful as I'd anticipated. I thought it would be incredibly boring, but it wasn't. From the highway, we saw the world's largest metal sculpture and the world's largest Holstein cow. We also saw signs directing people to the world's largest sand crane and the world's largest...hmmm, I can't remember and neither can Drew. 

Anyway, in Bismarck, we ate dinner at a Chinese restaurant. Now, having just spent a year in China, Drew got into the habit (and even enjoys it) of eating authentic Chinese food the authentic Chinese way, which involves seasoning your food with vinegar. So, he asks our server for some vinegar, and while she goes to get it, I say "You know she's going to come back with white vinegar, right?" But Drew is optimistic and even though we are at an American Chinese restaurant in the midwest, he maintains hope that she'll come back with table vinegar. She didn't, and I totally called it because she returned with white vinegar.

After our short stay in Bismarck, we continued on to Minnesota and went to my grandparents' house, where we spent the night and saw my parents and aunts and uncles. Finally, we headed to Green Bay, and even thought we were thwarted by a flat tire about 25 miles away, we made it!

days 3 and 4: Portland

From the looks of it, it seems like we got stuck in Portland and never left, but we did, and in fact, we've been Green Bay residents now for a little over a week. It's just that I didn't have internet access for a while, and then we we got it, I didn't have time to update my blog.

We spent a couple days in Portland, hanging out with Drew's friends. We went on a nice hike, ate awesome vegan bbq at the Homegrown Smoker, had a vegan brunch at the Hungry Tiger, drank craft beer, browsed at Powell's Books, and ate donuts at Blue Star Donuts and Voodoo Doughnut (in case you're wondering, Blue Star beats Voodoo). Basically, we fell in love with Portland and weren't sure if we wanted to leave.  

day 3: redding to portland

There's no turning back now. This is really happening. 

It was not until the third day that moving to Green Bay felt real. Up until this point, it felt like we were on vacation and that we would eventually turn around and head back home because it is not unreasonable to drive from Irvine to Redding (I know this because my friend is from Redding and her mom just did it). 

We learned that the last In-N-Out on the 5 is in Redding, so we stopped there before heading out to Portland.  

Having driven almost the entire length of California, I will say that it is a beautiful state. Northern California looked and felt so different from Southern California, or at least Orange County. I didn't realize how diverse California was, both culturally and topographically, until we drove through it.   

We could not believe how rural it was in northern California, and more than once, we commented that with all the farmland, it felt like we were in Virginia or Minnesota (except with hills). 

You can barely see it, but that signs says "Oregon welcomes you." 

Drew has a couple friends in Portland, so we are taking a couple days to eat vegan food and donuts. 

day 2: gilroy and san francisco

We left Monterey for Gilroy, which is famous for its annual garlic festival. We missed the festival by a few days, but we stopped anyway and bought some garlic and smoked garlic olives. 

From there, we headed up to San Francisco, where we took a break and ate some ice cream at Bi-Rite Creamery, which I recently saw on this list of 27 ice cream places in the world that you have to visit. It was well worth the stop and it was quite possibly the best ice cream I'd ever eaten in my life, which I guess is why it was on this list anyway.

After our break, we wove our way through the streets of San Francisco to the Golden Gate bridge. 

 

Before driving across it, we stopped at the viewing area to first walk across part of it. 

It was really windy, and I will admit that it was cold and we were underdressed.

  

We saw fewer palm trees in central and northern California, and instead, we saw a lot of these trees:

After San Francisco, we headed north to Redding to stay the night. 

day 1: california to wisconsin

A few months ago, when Drew and I were planning our route from California to Wisconsin, we said to each other "Hey, do you know what would make a 2100 mile cross country road trip even better? Driving up the California coast, some of which will be on a two lane highway that's full of twists and turns so that we'll only be able to drive about 30 mph, and adding about 500 miles to the trip!" I'm kidding. It was more like "Sooooo, I know we already have a long distance to drive, but everyone talks about how driving up the coast is a thing to do and it's really pretty and this is probably our only chance to do it, so what do you say?" 

We said yes.

And I'm glad we did.

We started off on the 405 and took it to LA, where we then got on the 101 and drove through Ventura and Santa Barbara, and then we got on the 1 (also known as the Pacific Coast Highway, or the PCH) in San Luis Obispo (gawd, I sounded sooo Californian right there). Then Drew took the wheel because I hate twists and turns and curves in the road, even more so than bumper to bumper traffic and crazy drivers who almost merge into us twice, and I got to enjoy the view.    

We have to hand it to the state park system and the CA Department of Transportation or whoever because there were several places to stop along the PCH to take pictures and enjoy the view.

Some of the birds had no fear. That's Drew's hand there. Maybe he put it there for scale? 

We also drove through Big Sur, which is well known because it's really beautiful, but I've heard of it because of its grueling marathon that takes place every April. The halfway point is the Bixby Bridge, and there is a pianist who plays Chariots of Fire in the middle of it. 

It is unlikely that I will ever run across the Bixby Bridge, but my friend Sam did a couple years ago. 

We made it up to Monterey at the end of day one.  

goodbye uci

On the day before we left for Wisconsin, Drew and I walked around UCI and snapped some pictures. Our first stop was to the Anthill Pub for one last pint of beer. I must have been looking professorial because I think it was the first time that I didn't get carded. 

We walked through Aldrich Park, which is in the center of campus, on our way home. It is a really nice park, and back in the way when we had more time to linger over lunch, we would have picnics outside. 

Even though time became more scarce, I sometimes headed to the park to read or to have a quick walk.  

UCI's mascot is Peter the anteater, so Drew and I stopped by the bookstore to pick one up.

 We also stopped by Social Science Plaza for a quick picture by the fountain.

One of the first apartments I lived in was in Palo Verde, one of the housing communities for graduate students. Every day for nearly five years, I crossed this bridge to get to campus.  

On a clear day, you can see the mountains off in the distance from the bridge. 

When I first arrived at UCI, I thought the number of years that it would take to get a Ph.D. felt like an eternity. Older graduate students told me that the time would go fast, and at first, I didn't believe them. But, just like many other things, they were right. The time goes by so fast. One minute it feels like graduation is so, so far away and the next minute, you're packing up all your stuff and saying goodbye.  

leaving california

Drew and I are leaving California for Green Bay tomorrow morning. I don't think it's sunk in yet. I've waited so long time for this moment and while I'm happy to leave this place, at the same time, I'm also a little sad. I lived here for nearly eight years, so in some respects, it's hard to say good bye.

  

A dear friend from graduate school recently moved to Minnesota (interestingly, there are a few of us making the move from California to either Minnesota or Wisconsin). In her farewell to California facebook post, she began by saying something about how she came to California as an adult but grew up here. I can relate. I was 26 when I started graduate school, and I grew up a lot here. 

I wonder what I will miss about Southern California. Most of what I think I'll miss revolves around food. Lately, I've been asking myself such questions like: Why didn't I eat more California burritos? Why didn't I eat at In-n-Out more often? Why did I wait until my last year in California to discover banh mi? How come I didn't make it my mission to find the best fish taco? Why didn't I eat more dumplings? And so on. But then I remind myself that I just didn't have the time and that the reason I came out to California was to earn a Ph.D. and not eat my way through Orange County. In my state of food-related panic, I've been eating my weight in avocados, and I made two trips to In-n-Out in the past couple of weeks, which is more times than the past few years.  

 

Sometimes, I wonder if I'll miss the beach. Other times, I'm not so sure. I see the ocean a lot as I'm driving by or when I'm running, but I don't get to the beach too often anymore. Whenever I feel like having a beach day, it's when everyone else feels like going to the beach too, and dealing with the traffic, crowds, and parking is just too much of a hassle for me. 

I know I will miss the palm trees. I never get tired of seeing them. 

I recently showed Drew what I think is the most fantastic palm tree I've ever seen. It's just in this neighborhood in Irvine, and I discovered it on the way to get dumplings. 

On our last night in Irvine, we ate dinner at Royal Thai, got gelato at Gelato Paradiso, and had a nice walk on Laguna Beach, just enjoying the sand between our toes and the sounds of the waves crashing on the beach. I don't know how this tradition started, but anytime one of us (usually Drew) leaves for a significant period of time, this is what we do. So when we contemplated how we'd spend our last night in California, it wasn't at all difficult to decide what to do. After Laguna Beach, we headed home and went to one of our favorite spots near campus, the adirondack chairs at the top of University Hills. From there, we could just barely see the Disneyland fireworks. They go off every night at 9:30, and I can hear them from my apartment. It is odd to think that soon, my evenings will be silent. 

reverse culture shock

For the past few months, I've been thinking about whether I'll experience a reverse culture shock when I return to the Midwest. I wonder which aspects of Southern California were surprising to me at first but then eventually became commonplace and something I don't even think about anymore (like how people bring their dogs everywhere here, even into stores). 

One of the first things that comes to mind is open air shopping malls.   

Open air shopping malls fascinated me when I first came to California. This would never work in Minnesota, I thought. 

Above is the Irvine Spectrum, and below is Fashion Island. That's Drew sitting next to the fountain.

I was also fascinated with restaurants that had only outdoor seating. During the first few years of graduate school, I frequented Taco Mesa for Taco Tuesdays and it took me a while to get used to the fact that my friends and I could eat outside year round. One of my fondest memories is dining at Taco Rosa with a group of about 20 people, during my first year. We couldn't all fit inside, so we sat outside. I think it was the end of October, maybe the beginning of November. We were all transplants, so we thought the weather was beautiful, and in hindsight, we probably looked a little strange (remember that Californians consider temperatures below 60 degrees to be "cold").  

Not all of my observations are weather-related. Last weekend, at Fashion Island, I commented to Drew that we will soon live in a place where Macy's will be the nicest department store in the mall. Here, compared to Bloomingdale's and Nordstrom and Neiman Marcus, Macy's is on the "lower" end, at least at the malls closest to where we live. Some of my other observations are also class-related. I drive down the freeway amidst very fancy and expensive cars. I take yoga classes with people who wear nothing but Lululemon. I had a friend who pointed out that there are few places like Orange County, where the contrast between the rich and the poor is so stark, and I'm inclined to agree.  

Another thing I noticed right away when I moved here is that you can buy alcohol in Target. You can also buy alcohol on Sundays (I didn't figure this one out myself; somebody told me). I've never done either one of those things, but I like having the option. That's Drew there in Target, checking out the whiskey.   

    

I've also been thinking about what sorts of adjustments I'll make to fit in again in the Midwest. I'll have to stop saying "the" before the name of a freeway. I will be able to say "pop" again instead of "soda." Some of the less trivial changes I think I'll need to make when I live in Wisconsin are 1) be nice and 2) don't drive like a maniac. Whenever I go home, I always have to remind myself to be nice. I have to remind myself to excuse myself and apologize if I bump into somebody but even if I just almost bump into somebody. I also have to remind myself to drive less aggressively and avoid barreling through four-way stops and cutting people off on the freeway. I have to remind myself to drive Minnesota nice and not California cutthroat.

on traffic

I always knew that my time in California would be temporary. Given the nature of graduate school and academia, I knew better than to get attached to Southern California. And in many respects, this was not difficult. In a previous post, I talked about how much I missed winter and a lack of seasons. By my standards, the past 8 years have been a perpetual summer. 

I won't miss the insanely high cost of living. Last weekend, I met up with a friend, and among other things, told him to guess how much we're going to pay to rent a one bedroom apartment in Green Bay. He guessed $1500. I told him to guess lower. He dropped down to $1200 and just about fell out of his chair when I told him $495. 

Perhaps most of all, I won't miss the traffic. Prior to moving to California, one of my friends (her grandma lived in Gardena so she was familiar with the area), told me that traffic would be one of the most surprising aspects of Southern California. She said that no matter the time of day, I'd be shocked at how many people were out on the road. She was absolutely right.The first time I drove here was when I rented a car for my recruitment visit. I drove from Los Angeles to Irvine at one in the morning and when I wasn't busy being scared to death of getting into a car accident, I thought to myself "Where are all these people going? Why are there all these cars on the road?" I think I saw more traffic at 1 in the morning than I ever had in Minnesota (and did I mention that it was a 12-lane freeway? That's a lot of cars).   

Just as winter is to Minnesotans (and I'm guessing Wisconsinites), traffic is to Californians. It's just a way of life and you have to accept it. There are rush hours of course, but you can also encounter stop-and-go traffic at any hour of any day. Los Angeles is 40 miles from Irvine, but sometimes it is 45 minutes away and sometimes it is 3 hours away.    

A few years ago, my dad complained about traffic in Rochester. I laughed at him and told him to stop complaining. You have no idea, Dad, no idea. Then he and my mom came out to visit, and when coming back from visiting relatives in Oceanside, we got stuck on the 5. Oceanside is about 50 miles away, but I think the trip that night took about 3 hours. Of course, I wasn't at all shocked by this, but my dad turned to me and said "huh, I get what you mean now. The traffic in Rochester is nothing compared to this." I refrained from saying "I told you so, Dad." 

As is our routine, Drew drove us back from Oceanside a couple weekends ago, and I was in the passenger seat (I do most of the driving, but on any trip over 30 miles, I drive there and he drives back). As expected, we hit traffic on the way home and the 5 became a parking lot. I laughed it off and took some pictures, knowing that it wouldn't be long until it would no longer be a way of life.  

sunday mornings + favorite running spots

Sunday mornings are the only times when I wonder how I'm going to give up California. It's the only time I ever ask myself the question that so many people ask me: "How are you going to give up all...this?" And on some Sundays, I just don't know.* 

There are, of course, Sunday mornings in Green Bay, but I'm not sure they'll be the same. My Sunday mornings here combine many of my favorite things: friends, running, fresh air, scenery, breakfast, and coffee (I know coffee is a part of breakfast, but I love it so much that it really deserves its own mention). There is no traffic on Sunday mornings, and I never struggle to find a parking spot.  

Really, it's the people who make my Sunday mornings. For nearly two years now, I've been waking up at 6 am on Sunday mornings to meet my running friends for a long run/walk, which we follow up with breakfast (one friend says, "We are a breakfast group with a running problem"). They are, as I call people who are not in academia, civilians, and they provide a much needed escape from grad school--and so much more. 

After a year of running with my first running buddy, Sam, she got pregnant, and I found myself in need of some new running buddies. At the time, I had the running bug pretty bad and I was signed up to run 3 half marathons in the next year. But, as much as I loved running, getting myself up and out the door for long run days was sometimes a challenge. And so, a different running friend introduced me to the Sunday morning running crew. 

When I first joined the group, I wasn't sure what to expect. Everyone knew each other really well, having run together for over ten years. They were more of a family and less a group of friends, but they welcomed me into it. They are so good to me, and I couldn't ask for better friends. I know a lot of people would balk at waking up so early in the morning, especially a weekend morning, to go running, but Sunday mornings are the best part of my week, and it's because of my friends. No matter how busy and stressed out I am, Sunday mornings are non-negotiable. They keep me sane, and I'm not sure how I would have managed the past couple of years without my running family. If I find a running group in Green Bay that's half as awesome as my running family here, I will be very, very lucky.

Aside from my friends of course, I'll miss my favorite running spots. In this respect, I am incredibly spoiled. There are miles and miles of running trails in Orange County, and I'm fortunate to live only a mile away from one of them. 

When I get to the trail, if I turn left, after a mile and a half, I'll end up at the Back Bay. It's one of my favorite places to run. 

I've run all the way around it, which is 10 miles.

I also live about a mile away from a wildlife preserve. There are trails inside of it, and the perimeter is about a 3 mile loop. I used to do a lot of trail running inside it, but then I saw a snake one day, so now I mainly stick to the outside loop. 

Crystal Cove State Park is also a favorite. We usually stick to the trails inside the park, but sometimes...

...we run up the Newport Coast hill. 

It's pretty brutal, but in a good way. Fortunately, we don't do it that often. I know I'm smiling in the picture below, but that's because we are about to take a walk break. 

As much as I'm going to miss running in Orange County, I'm kind of excited for winter running in Green Bay. And also a little scared, but more on that later. 

* It doesn't take long for me to stop romanticizing California. On any other day and time of the week, I get so frustrated with traffic, parking, and crazy drivers that all I can think is "Get me the eff out of Southern California."

on winter

"How are you going to give up all...this?"

This is a question I've been getting ever since January, when I began telling people about my impending move to Green Bay (Mind you, the question is never posed by academics because they know how difficult it is to get an academic job. It's also never posed by people who know how much I love winter, but I'll get to that in a second.). This question is always accompanied by this hand gesture which I believe is meant to refer to the nice weather, beaches, and palm trees but I can't be sure (I can only assume that "this" and the gesture don't refer to the insanely high cost of living, suffocating traffic, and the difficulties one encounters when trying to find a parking spot). If I had a dollar for every time I was asked this question, I could finally pony up for a guilt-free ferry ride to Catalina Island (that's what I should do--require everyone who inquires to contribute to my SoCal exploration fund). 

When I decided to go to graduate school, I never set out to escape winter. In fact, it was quite the opposite. I deliberately applied to schools only in the midwest and the (north)east coast. How did UCI slip through the cracks? I thought the program was too good to pass up, and so I broke my winter-only rule. Surely, I thought to myself, if you are accepted, you can forgo winter for 6 or 7 years. In the grand scheme of things, it won't be so bad.

I visited UCI in April and liked it right away. I knew it was a good fit for me, professionally and personally, winter or no winter. On visiting day, everyone apologized for the "bad weather." I think it was a little rainy, which means that there was some slight drizzling, and it was maybe 65 degrees. At the time, I thought the weather was wonderful and I welcomed it (I was coming from Minnesota, where there was snow on the ground, and the temperature was likely in the 30s), but as the years would go by, I would come to relish those "bad weather" days.

Immediately, I knew that I liked UCI and that I would go there, but I still struggled with my decision. Could I really deal with 60-some degree winters? Could I deal without the snow? I knew that my answers had to be yes and that I'd be stupid to pass up this opportunity, and so I happily accepted and decided that I would attend in the fall. But when the realization that I'd experienced my last winter (for the foreseeable future) hit me, I cried.

I quickly learned that being from Minnesota carries with it the expectation that I hate winter and am grateful to be rid of it. Upon meeting new people, after learning where I'm from, without fail, they exclaim "Oh, you must love it here!" (ha! If I had a dollar for every time I got that response, I wouldn't have had to apply for research grants!) Because I did not receive the memo that I was supposed to hate cold weather, this reaction was peculiar to me at first but became almost unbearably annoying over time. 

For the first year at least, I played along and tried my best to embrace California. I wore flip flops every single day for a year for no other reason than I just could. I packed away my sweaters and winter coat and bought skirts and a light jacket. I barbequed in January. I swam in the ocean on Christmas day, and I went to the beach almost every other week. I did my schoolwork on the beach, I graded on the beach, and I ran on the beach. When Minnesota was covered in snow, I'd call my parents and brag about the warm and sunny weather, sometimes even from the beach (and of course, I let them know that part too). 

Around my second or third year of graduate school, it all got old. I tried my best to forget about crisp fall air, crunchy leaves, snow, half-frozen puddles of water, and yes, even sub-zero temperatures. But I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried to enjoy the year-round warm weather, I never got used to the lack of seasons or the inexplicable 80 and 90 degree heat waves that arrived in the middle of January. I never acclimated to Southern California weather. Without a calendar, I wouldn't know what month we were in or what holiday to celebrate. I am always underdressed for the weather, and I can't remember the last time I wore a jacket. As the years went by, I became less enthusiastic about Starbucks' seasonal lattes because there was a disconnect between the weather and the seasons--it was always too hot outside for me to enjoy them. If a Californian asks me if it's cold outside, I still can't be trusted to give an accurate answer because by my Minnesota standards, it is never cold here.  

Over the years, I became more desperate for winter. I hung up pictures of snow scenes in my office. I changed the background on my laptop to a picture of an icy river. When my facebook friends post pictures of the snow, I feel immensely jealous. And when Minnesota gets particularly cold or gets a lot of snow, I call my parents, but not to brag about the sunny weather in California. Rather, I ask them to brag so that I can experience the winter vicariously through them.    

In less than three months, Drew and I will be headed for Green Bay. With the impending move from California and that we're near the end of a week-long heat wave with temperatures reaching the mid-90s, I've been thinking about winter lately (and to be clear, I yearn for winter when it's not so hot here too). I've also been thinking about the things that I will and will not miss about SoCal, and the weather is something I won't miss. After I accepted the job, I promised Drew that I wouldn't complain about the weather and that I'd try my best to enjoy my last "winter" in California. I think I was mostly successful.

But lately, now that "winter" is safely over here, I've allowed myself to start thinking about the things I'm excited about doing in Green Bay that I really can't do in Irvine. I can't wait to carve pumpkins, set them outside, and not worry about them rotting in a week. I can't wait to sip pumpkin spice lattes in the fall and peppermint mochas in the winter (okay, I can do that in Irvine, but it feels weird when it's 80 degrees outside). I can't wait to breathe in the crisp, fall air and step on all the crunchy leaves. I can't wait to make winter soups and stews. I can't wait to go ice skating. And of course, I can't wait for the first snow.