a 26 hour delay

Greetings from Minnesota! Well, we finally made it. After a 26 hour delay, we are finally in Minnesota. The flight itself went smoothly. There were about 20 of us (everyone else was smarter and rebooked). By the way, I think that there is correlation between rebooking and age; I'd say the average age of the people on our flight was like 28. There were some perks to holding out and not rebooking. Boarding and deplaning were super quick and easy. We were served snacks and beverages as soon as we boarded. There were no crying children. We each had our own row of seats and could spread out and sleep. Holding out for 26 hours was a bonding experience. We applauded when we took off in LA and landed in MN. It was practically a party.

And now we are in Rochester. There is a lot of snow here, and I don't think the temperature has been above 15 degrees. There is cold and then there is really cold. Turns out that we had cold weather gear for cold, but not really cold (necessitating a search for warmer hats and mittens). Good thing my parents don't live in like Duluth or International Falls, where I'm sure it is really, really, really cold.

Like I said, there's a lot of snow here, and there's more to come. I just hope it warms up. When I say warm up, I mean hit at least 20 degrees. More to come, with pictures.

delays, delays, delays

I think the universe is trying to tell us not to go to Minnesota. Last night, Drew and I went to LAX for our flight to Minneapolis. We're still in LA. Our original flight was canceled due to a mechanical failure. Delta put us up at a nearby hotel, and we were supposed to fly out at 7am. And then that turned into 1pm. And now we're delayed until 5pm. The reason for the delay? The weather...in California, not Minnesota. Oh the irony. It is 55 and rainy here. Compared to where we're headed, it's paradise. But apparently, the weather is bad enough to cause delays. Upon hearing about the delay, my first thought was "I don't think I can repack everything in my suitcase so nice and neatly."

let it snow!

Well, the rumors are true: Drew and I made a last minute decision and decided to go to Minnesota for Christmas. We kept hearing all the reports of the record snow, below zero wind chills, and the Metrodome roof caving in. It all sounded so enticing, we asked ourselves how we could possibly resist a visit. (when I say 'we,' I really mean 'I') It certainly sounds like quite the winter vacation destination, wouldn't you say?

I haven't been to Minnesota in 3 years. You're probably thinking to yourself "well, I can see why, what with all that snow and cold!" We're probably pretty crazy to go right now. Yesterday it was 80 and sunny and we went to the beach, while temperatures were in the single digits in Minnesota (I think I'm being generous with that estimation). Despite the weather forecast, I am looking forward to having a real winter. In fact, I genuinely miss the cold and snow.

Drew, however, is not a fan of winter. When the temperature dips below 60, he's in his scarf and mittens just like all those California natives. I'm just kidding. This isn't entirely true (it's the California natives, not Drew, bundled up in cold weather gear). But he does get a little whiny and complain about the "cold" weather.

This is Drew's first trip to Minnesota, and I hope the weather doesn't scare him away. When we decided to make the trip, I strategically booked plane tickets before checking the weather forecast. And before showing Drew a Facebook photo of my cousin's car buried under several feet of snow. When I told Drew about the weather forecast, I told him that there was good news and bad news. The bad news was that the temperature was like 1 degree, but the good news was that it should be in the 20s during our trip. It appears to be warming up.

I'm crossing my fingers for warm weather, so about mid 20s. Do you hear me Minnesota? That's all I'm asking for. Three years is much too long.

baking!

Have you been to Trader Joe's for the "Astounding Multi-Flavor Joe-Joe's"? Well why not? Go get yourself a box, I'll wait.

The Astounding Multi-Flavor Joe-Joe's, as they are called, is a box of 4 different kinds of Joe-Joe's (which are kind of like Oreos). Each kind of Joe-Joe is dipped in chocolate. There's peppermint, double chocolate, peanut butter, and ginger. Great for the holiday season (I swear, I'm not getting paid to say this). Well, I decided to make my own Joe-Joe's, a vegan version. My dearest friend is vegan, and well, why should she miss out on the Joe-Joe fun? (this sounds a bit x-rated, but trust me, I am referring to cookies)

I made peppermint, plain, and peanut butter. The cookies were so rich and decadent, so I dipped only half of them in chocolate. I also made a gingerbread cookie bar in my snowflake pan. I heard that a Trader Joe's recently opened up in Rochester, MN, which is great news. Now my parents can get in on the Joe-Joe fun and I don't have to mail them a box.

on grad school

One of my dearest friends has a new boyfriend. She is a grad student; he is not. She wondered how she could possibly explain what grad school is like to him. I said: "Just tell him that grad school is a perpetual feeling of inadequacy." Sounds harsh, but it's pretty much the truth.

It's not an easy task to try to get people to understand what Ph.D. programs are like. I can see why. Grad school experiences differ by school, degree programs, and departments, among other things. I think that most people think that graduate school is like college, but on steroids. It's not. Sure, grad school is classes, reading, writing, and constant homework, but that's where the similarity ends. If college is like dining in a restaurant, then a Ph.D. program is like learning to be the chef.

I am always curious as to why people go to grad school, particularly a Ph.D. program. What sort of person subjects her/himself to the emotional rollercoaster of grad school? What sort of person subjects her/himself to constant criticism? What does this say about us? About me? I always wonder if we really know what we're getting ourselves into. I mean, we can think we know what grad school is like, but we don't really know what it's like until we're there. I imagine that it's like getting married. You may think you're prepared and that you know what it's going to be like, but I imagine that there are some surprises.

I recently heard grad school described as a hazing process, and I think this sums it up quite nicely. It really is a hazing process, and well, if you survive, then welcome to academia. When I started grad school, everyone said you have to have a thick skin to survive, and I didn't quite understand. Now I do. Everything you write, everything you think, and everything you say is subject to critique, all in the name of "contributing to knowledge." Whenever I get feedback on my papers, I sometimes have to remind myself that the critiques are meant to help me improve, not hurt my feelings. And it works. We learn, we get better, we improve. I've heard grad school described as a video game; once you master one level, you move onto the next. This too is true.

I'll end this on a positive note. I just finished a full draft of my prospectus, which is like a detailed research design of my dissertation. It's like my road map of what I intend to study and how I intend to study it. Coming up with my research question seemed like it took forever, and sometimes I wasn't sure that there was one out there that I'd like to answer. But it turns out that there is. It didn't just fall from the sky (these things never do, as my adviser, DK, says); I found it after a lot of reading, writing, and rewriting.

After I submitted my draft, DK congratulated me and told me that she was really looking forward to reading it. She asked if I felt good about getting it done, and I really hadn't thought about it. Sometimes our accomplishments seem so anti-climactic, and many times we forget to pat ourselves (and each other) on the back. But amidst the criticism and negativity of grad school, it feels great when your adviser (and others, of course) pats you on the back and recognizes that you've cleared a hurdle, no matter how small, even if you yourself don't recognize it. Grad school does have its rewards.

and we're off!

With Thanksgiving just barely behind me, the holiday baking was in full swing last weekend. In my last cake decorating class, I decorated a gingerbread layer cake with an apricot preserves filling. We learned how to make roses, and it turns out that they're not that difficult to make. I had a snowflake theme, but I included a rose since I just learned to make them.

I purchased a cookie press last weekend, which was quite possibly a bad decision. I adore spritz cookies, and I could not stop eating these. I think I ate over a dozen yesterday, nearly straight out of the oven. In an attempt to negate the calories, I ate 2 clementines. I don't think it worked.

I got an early Christmas present from Drew's parents. They must know how much I miss the snow, because they sent me snowflake cookie cutters, a snowflake baking dish, and a snowflake shortbread pan. Check it out:

And last but not least, Drew and I set up our new Christmas tree:

There's lots of holiday spirit over here!

2 black friday discoveries

I really don't like car alarms. I just don't see the point. Sure, it's easy for me to say this. I drive an old car that probably doesn't attract thieves. I have nothing valuable in my car- no GPS, no fancy speakers, and no fancy stereo. There is a beach blanket and jumper cables in the trunk, but of course, you wouldn't know that because they are in the trunk. If somebody broke into my car, they would surely be disappointed. I mean, what are they going to take? My emergency stash of granola bars? (don't laugh, they come in handy in the stop-and-go traffic)

Wait? What was I saying? Oh yes, car alarms. I despise them and I don't see the point. Do car alarms really deter would-be thieves? It seems that more often than not, they are set off by, say, loud noises, not potential thieves. So when they do go off, it seems to be more of a nuisance and less of an alert.

So where is this all going? Let me tell you. The other evening, a car alarm went off outside of our apartment building. Repeatedly. It was a minor annoyance. It kept going off, sporadically. I assume that it eventually stopped. But after the first few times, I began to worry. What if that's my car? But I shoved that thought aside. I've had my car for a year and a half. If I had a car alarm, surely I would know it by now. I think you know where this story is going.

On Friday, Drew and I got home from Oceanside, and as we were getting out of the car, a car alarm went off. And, you guessed it: it was MY car alarm. So apparently, I have a car alarm. And I hate it. We have no idea what set off the alarm, and we also have no idea how we shut it off. But we did, and the car's been quiet ever since.

I made another discovery on Friday. It appears that the best time to shop on Black Friday is actually on Friday night. Sure, you might miss out on some of the best deals, but many stores still have good sales. I got a couple shirts for 30% off at Express, and I got some stuff on sale at Macy's. But best of all, I missed out on all the crazy people, the crowds, and the long lines. It was fabulous.

On a related note, Thanksgiving was great. Drew and I went down to Oceanside to see my family. As we do every year, we went to the beach and had a nice little walk, we ate too much food, and watched movies. The next day, we ate leftover pie for breakfast and ventured out to the mall in the late morning. It doesn't get any better than that.