Way too early in the morning on Saturday, December 24, I took a taxi to Seattle-Tacoma International Aiport. After a layover in Phoenix (spoiler alert for those who haven’t been there: the landscape is all brown), I found myself at good old Orlando International Airport, waiting for Kate to fly in and my family to pick us up.

After a long wait, Kate arrived and so did my parents and my sister. We set off back to my parents’ house, where we had some light noms for dinner and decorated the Christmas tree. Some people always decorate their Christmas tree on Christmas Eve, but in my family we normally do it super early, so it was nice for my family to wait. My dad and/or mom had actually cut down the tree themselves since they live out in the relative wilderness now, near Christmas tree farms and things like that.

The next morning was Christmas morning, and, still jetlagged, I slept way in. By the time everyone woke up, it was time for a late breakfast, so we decide to eat before opening presents. Then we exchanged gifts. It was such a familiar feeling to me that it was hard to remember that I wasn’t home for Christmas the previous year. I normally dread giving gifts because I never know what to get, but this year I felt like I’d picked some winners. (I was really happy with the stuff I got, too. I’m surrounded by good gift-givers.) Later, other friends/family came over for a turkey dinner, and after that, more gifts were exchanged. It was a great Christmas.

The day after that was a pretty lazy day. My parents had the day off, so we all went for a hike nearby. It might have been pretty cold by my previous standards, but I found that after living in Seattle for less than a year, I could withstand the Florida winter a lot better. We probably did other things that day, but I don’t remember what they were.

On Tuesday, Kate wanted to explore nearby Gainesville, but my parents had to work. Fortunately, my Aunt Sandi volunteered to take us around, and we even visited some places I had never been to before. After going to Bealls Outlet (one of Kate’s favorite stores), we tried to go to the Devil’s Millhopper only to find that they were closed on Tuesdays. Nearby was a musical instrument store I had never been to, so we checked it out. We plinked around on a steel drum, surely to the delight of everyone who was working and shopping there, and I strummed some acoustic guitars for Kate.

For lunch, we went to The Jones, a local-type restaurant that I had wanted to go to with Kate during one of her previous visits (that time, we went to an Italian buffet instead). The food was great, and I’d love to go there again.

Well, that’s all I have to time to impart right now. Next time: kittens.

You probably know that certain societies (ours not being among them) have a lax attitude toward drinking alcohol. So it seems that the effects of alcohol are a self-fulfilling prophecy. The author of this article for the BBC suggests that if we make alcohol seem boring to kids, they’ll stop binge drinking and engaging in other drunken shenanigans.

In the days leading up to 2011, I had arrived in Russia to see Kate, first spending a few very busy days in Saint Petersburg before actually visiting her. Once we were together, she showed me around her hometown, and then, more relevant to this discussion, 2011 happened.

• January 1 – I ring in the new year with Kate in Russia.
• January 4 – I arrive home from Russia.
• January 10 – I’m hanging out with my friend Andrea when she finds out she got in to her first choice of law school.
• January 24 – I talk to representatives from Amazon at my department’s career fair and give them my resume.
• January 26 – Amazon offers to interview me on campus.
• February 2 – I have a first-round interview with Amazon.
• February 3 – Having passed the first round, I go through a second round of interviews.
• February 9 – I see Penn & Teller speak (both of them!) at UF.
• February 10 – I get a job offer from Amazon.
• March 18 – I find out that Krishna Lunch volunteer Stacie has died.
• April 14 – I get honored for my two and a half years of service to the Dean of Students Office at UF.
• April 30-May 1 – Graduation weekend: My sister graduates on Saturday, and I graduate on Sunday.
• May 6-8 – My sister accompanies me on an apartment-hunting trip to Seattle.
• May 9 – I’m quoted in a news article about Where’s George?
• May 14 – Kate arrives in Florida to visit me again.
• May 19 – I move out of my apartment in Gainesville.
• May 20-22 – I vacation with family and friends at the family condo in Fort Pierce.
• May 22 – With Kate in tow, I set off for Seattle.
• May 24-27 – Andy visits Kate and me in Seattle.
• May 28-30 – Kate and I visit Olympia and Aberdeen, Washington.
• May 31 – My first day of work at Amazon.
• June 2 – Kate ends her visit to the US.
• June 4 – I buy furniture for my new apartment.
• June 21 – I move in to my new apartment in downtown Seattle.
• June 25 – I watch an LGBT pride parade go down my street.
• July 4 – I have some people over for a housewarming/Fourth of July party.
• July 9 – I apply for my Washington state ID card.
• July 13 – I celebrate my birthday with a few friends.
• July 30 – I watch the Seafair parade go down my street.
• August 15 – I go on a community crime watch walk in my neighborhood.
• September 1-6 – For my first vacation from work, I visit my family in Florida.
• September 21-23 – I host my first CouchSurfer.
• September 30 – I see a movie presented in Cinerama at the local Cinerama theater.
• October 14-16 – I visit my friend Luke in Oregon.
• October 23 – I go to the Northwest Chocolate Festival and CroatiaFest at the Seattle Center.
• November 19 – I go to a benefit show featuring Rainn Wilson and others.
• November 24 – I celebrate my first Thanksgiving away from my family, and indeed, everyone else.
• December 24-31 – I meet up with Kate in Florida and we visit my family and friends. More details to come!

As you can see, I haven’t written much during the latter half of this year. I haven’t done very much during that time either. In 2012, I resolve to do more interesting things and to write more. We’ll see how that goes.

Happy New Year!

It was my first Thanksgiving away from my family. Lots of people travel on and around Thanksgiving, and I didn’t want to be caught up in all that stuff when I’d just be visiting them in a month for Christmas. So I stayed here instead.

All of my friends either went away to their families or had their families visit them. I entertained the thought of volunteering at a soup kitchen or something like that, but I didn’t really try too hard to find out about it. I’d also heard that they would turn people away due to a surplus of volunteers. (It sounds like nonsense now that I think about it, but whatever…)

I slept in. I caught the Macy’s parade (tape-delayed, I guess), and I had been watching it for a few minutes when some singer missed his cue to start lip-syncing his own song. That’s when the TV went off. Not long after, I video-chatted with my family.

Once it was getting to be around dinner time, I went to the famous 5 Point Cafe for dinner. I was pretty sure that they had a “Thanksgiving dinner” on their regular menu, but they actually didn’t. They were in Thanksgiving mode there, though. It was pretty crowded, so I sat at pretty much the only seat I could find, which was at the far end of the counter on the restaurant side. On the wall next to me, where the daily specials are usually listed, was written each employee’s name and what he or she was thankful for.

For Thanksgiving, they were serving actual Thanksgiving dinners (i.e., for more than one person), but there was no way I was going to buy or eat that much food. I ended up getting the chicken fried steak, which I had never had there before. I could only eat half of it (they say they have the biggest chicken fried steak in Seattle, and I believe them), so I saved the rest and ordered a slice of pumpkin pie. I kind of like pumpkin pie, and we’re not a pumpkin pie family for whatever reason, so I figured I might as well.

After that, I went to the Cinerama down the street and saw The Muppets. Even though it’s common for movies to be released on Thanksgiving, I’m pretty sure I’ve never been to the movies on Thanksgiving, so I didn’t know how crowded it would be. It wasn’t very (although the theater is huge). The movie itself was great fun, and I’d recommend it to everybody.

That’s about all I did on Thanksgiving. The next day, I didn’t have the day off, so like most of my co-workers who didn’t take the day off, I worked from home. That went pretty well except that I had just changed my password and my laptop decided not to accept either my old password or my new password after I had locked it. I actually went to work with my laptop to see if I could log in there, and I could, so I went back home immediately and continued working.

Interesting/creepy: every Beatles song played at the same time. (Via waxy.org)

I wasn’t sure how I’d feel once I finally got there, but everything ended up feeling really normal. It was as if I had never left and my life in Seattle had just been a dream.

I flew to Orlando on Thursday. My grandparents picked me up and took me to their house; I couldn’t remember the last time I had been there. Later, my parents arrived, and after we all had dinner at an Outback Steakhouse, I went with my parents back home, or to their house, or whatever I’m going to call it.

The next day, my sister joined us for Krishna Lunch at UF. I had alerted some former co-workers/friends that I’d be there, so they met with me during lunch. It was fun to catch up. After we were done eating, I went back to the office where I used to work so I could talk to my former supervisors and let them know how I was doing.

After that, we went to the Devil’s Millhopper. I had suggested going there simply because I had never been. It’s basically the remains of a giant sinkhole that you walk down to the bottom of. It’s more beautiful than it sounds like. And it’s pretty cool… literally!!

On Saturday, we went tubing down the Ichetucknee River and then got home in time to watch the Florida Gators’ first football game of the season. Sunday was a day for staying home and relaxing with a homemade brunch and all that good stuff. We didn’t go out.

On Monday, we went out for a little drive. Our first was stop a pottery gallery down the road. We met the artist and decided to buy a few of her works; I got a handmade mug. After that, we stopped at a few parks along the Suwannee River, one of which included a spring and an underwater cave. (No, we didn’t swim or dive there.)

Back at my parents’ house, I was looking forward to having s’mores over a campfire, but since it had been raining, we had s’mores over the grill instead. My sister suggested putting peanut butter on them. I did, and they tasted like Tagalongs! We’re on to you, Girl Scouts.

That evening, my grandparents came and spent the night. On Tuesday, while my parents were at work, my grandparents took me back to their house and then to the airport, where I was whisked back to my new life.

So yesterday was my first day back from work after a six-day weekend, and it felt strange: “I’ve been doing this for the past three months?” It’s been sinking in, though. Meanwhile, I’m trying to figure out when I’ll go back next.

The BBC enumerates 10 Strange Ways Tudors Died. Life was dangerous back then, apparently.

It started with Kate coming to visit. On Saturday, May 14, I went to Orlando to pick her up from the airport, and we headed back to Gainesville. My main goal for the next few days was to get all my stuff ready to be shipped out. We tried to make the most of our last few days there, though, and that included spending time with my parents, who live nearby. So the next day, they picked us up, and we had Sunday brunch with them. Then I spent a lot of time getting the things together that I wanted to take with me to Seattle. In doing so, I had to finish unpacking the stuff that was still packed from when my parents moved to the house.

Being in college is a funny thing. You don’t really have a home. I didn’t really feel like I did, anyway. You live in a dorm room or an apartment, and you’re “home” with your parents very rarely. But what happens when your parents decide to move? Is the new home still your home if you’ve hardly ever spent any time in it? Even if they leave a bedroom for you with all the things you didn’t take to college, it’s a tough question to answer, and it makes it pretty annoying to talk about simple things.

My parents graciously took us back to my apartment that night. On the way, we picked up some food (I was trying to empty out my pantry, so I didn’t have much), including some chicken. Not actual raw chicken from the back of the grocery store, but the frozen, quasi-pre-cooked variety that you find in a bag with the frozen foods (or maybe somewhere else, I’ve never actually looked for it myself). Kate wanted to have chicken and pasta for dinner, and she insisted that I make everything. I would have to sautee the chicken and I didn’t know how (oh my god jordan u dont kno how to saute chicken????????????/), but Kate told me what to do, and it turned out okay. I used too much oil, but I thought it was fine.

I hate cooking, but I want to want to do it. I’m not sure why. I guess it’s because the ability to cook is the mark of a responsible, sophisticated adult, and those who subsist on microwaveable frozen dinners are seen as just plain sad. I also hope to have guests over often when I’m on my own, and it would be nice to treat them to something–or to have the utensils and ingredients available for them to treat me. Also, preparing your own food is cheaper and better for you and blah blah blah blah. After supervising two pieces of chicken in a pan of hot oil, I do have to say that I feel a little better about the daunting prospect of learning to cook.

On Monday, we went downtown to walk around. After that, we went to the mall so Kate could get a prepaid phone plan and I could get a household toolbox. I figured I needed one because I was trying to put my new vacuum cleaner together and the screwdriver on my Swiss army knife just wouldn’t do it. It was pretty late by the time we got there, and Kate had noted that we had never actually been on a proper date, so we had dinner at Macaroni Grill.

The next day, Tuesday, was our big day out. We started by going to the Einstein Bros. at UF, and then after a trip to the Harn Museum, we had Krishna lunch. After that, we split up so I could go back to my apartment. I had to meet the person who was taking over my lease, and we had to sign some paperwork. The management of my apartment complex wouldn’t let me break the lease (jordan y didnt u keep bugging them about it they wood have done it evenutally–too freaking bad, it already happened!), and the terms of my lease didn’t allow subleasing.

After that, I met up with Kate again at the 34th Street Wall, the only place in town where graffiti is tolerated. We checked out the artwork and messages that other people had put up, and then we headed to The Top, where we ate dinner. After that, we saw a movie (I Am) at the Hippodrome. The premise of the movie was pretty interesting: “What’s wrong with the world, and how can we fix it?” The short answer is pretty much what you’d expect: people are selfish, and they shouldn’t be. It was pretty good, though.

After that, we were really tired (especially Kate, who had been exploring Gainesville on foot while I was filling out paperwork), so we went back to the apartment.

On Wednesday, I concentrated on getting my stuff together so the movers could take it easily. They would be responsible for actually boxing things up, I took care of all the small and fragile items myself, leaving just the larger and/or box-shaped things. Also, Kate wanted to go tubing near my (parents’) house, so they picked us up and we floated down the Santa Fe River for a bit before heading back to the apartment.

Thursday, May 19, was moving day. The movers came in the morning, boxing up what needed to be boxed and taking everything I didn’t have in my suitcases. There were three of them, and it only took them an hour and 45 minutes. (They were pleased that they didn’t have to take most of the furniture; my apartment came furnished.) Later, we went back to the mall for another shot at getting a good phone plan for Kate, but we only got as far as having a late lunch before my parents were ready to pick us up.

They took us to the AT&T store, and after Kate had a new US phone number on an old phone (my old one), we went back to my apartment so I could get my bags and turn in my keys. Kate was sad that I was leaving since the place was full of good memories for her. I had had good, bad, and mediocre memories, and I knew I could do better living on my own, so I was more excited than anything.

Kate also wanted to kayak, but since we didn’t have time to do it the day before, we did it that day. The kayaks were already ready to go, so we just went down to the river again and put in. The trip took about two hours, which was a lot shorter than we thought it was going to be, and fortunately, it ended just before it was completely dark.

Our plan for the weekend was to go to the condo. “The condo” is my great-aunt’s condo that she lets her relatives use for part of the year. It’s on North Hutchinson Island in Fort Pierce, and it has a private beach and everything. I’ve been there more times than I can possibly count; I was even there as a fetus. We used to go at least once a year and sometimes even twice, but I hadn’t been there for three years. In 2009, I was in Europe, and last year, we didn’t go because my parents were busy getting ready to move.

At the condo, we went to the beach a lot and spent some time playing Ping-Pong in the game room downstairs. It was a great way to enjoy my last days as a Florida resident, except for the mosquitoes that came out in full force.

From the condo, we went directly to Orlando International Airport, where I said goodbye to my parents and sister. Goodbyes are the hardest part of moving, but in today’s world, distance is less important than it used to be. I’ve still been calling my parents and texting my sister, just as I did when I lived close to them.

After a six-hour flight that didn’t seem quite as long, Kate and I were in Seattle. Kate had never been there, and I had only first visited a few weeks ago, but we managed to get around with the help of a cheesy tourist map I had kept from my first visit. I had corporate housing; the corporate housing company rents an apartment at an apartment complex and lets you live there for a limited time, providing maid-type services occasionally.

To pick up the keys, we had to go to a different apartment complex (it happened to be one that I had looked at during my previous visit), so we had a lot of walking to do with our heavy bags. But finally, we made it to our destination, and shortly thereafter went out in search of food.

Across the street was a French crepe place, so we went in. The only person there was an old woman who spoke very little English. You had to order your food by number, and we soon found out why. Facing the woman was a list of numbers with English pronunciations written phonetically in Russian. Kate was able to talk to her in Russian. We surmised that it was a family business making Russian bliny (“pancakes”), which are very similar or identical to crepes. Of course, crepes are more familiar to Americans.

The next day, we were faced with the task of finding more food. Kate had made a grocery list, and I went to about four nearby and not-so-nearby stores with little success. But we managed to get her basics (yogurt, bread, cheese, lunchmeat), so that would be enough to last a little while.

Then we spent about eight hours moseying around Seattle, enjoying the sights and checking out some significant places in the history of grunge music (Kate is a grunge fan and has wanted to visit Seattle for half her life). We also ended up doing quite a bit of shopping. It was all exhausting, and when we got back to the apartment, I went to bed early, hopefully not entirely due to the jet lag.

This morning, Andy is coming to visit us. We’re about to go pick him up from the airport. As you can see, I haven’t had much of an opportunity to describe my feelings about moving; I’ve only had time to talk about what we did. Hopefully after the dust settles and I get more quiet time, I can reflect on what it’s like to move across the country and start what I guess amounts to a new life (although I’m still me).

Also, I’ve changed the time zone on my blog, so this and future posts will be on Pacific Time. The “EST” designation is hardcoded (I guess I never thought I’d move or that WordPress would support Daylight Saving Time), and I’ll have to figure out how to change it. Again, I’ll be able to do that eventually.

We actually went to UF at least once. It was ostensibly to go to the butterfly garden they have there. I remember us cruising around campus slowly (the speed limit is only 20 MPH) and seeing the orange and blue street signs. I also remember hearing the question of where I wanted to go to college. Like I knew what I wanted to study, although in retrospect it should have been obvious. UF seemed like the natural choice.

People have asked me what it feels like to have graduated. I’ve told them I don’t know. Now that I’m packing up, it’s hitting me. Actually, I’m not packing up as much as throwing old stuff away and cleaning up. A moving company is going to pack my stuff, and I actually cannot help them lest I void the insurance or whatever. I still have to vacuum and stuff, though. I finally have one that works. Or, it will when I put it together.

I fell and scraped my knee a few days ago. Actually, both of them. And my hand. Haven’t done that in a while; I felt like a kid again. One of my knees kind of hurts in a way that the other one doesn’t. It’s like something’s messed up inside. I hope it gets better, but I guess that’s what happens when you’re not a kid anymore. I’m not complaining; I just find it therapeutic to talk about relatively bad things that have befallen me. I can’t do it with some people because they think I’m complaining, and then they get all defensive as if I’m attacking them somehow. Luckily, this is the Internet, so I don’t have to actually hear you.

In hours, Kate will be on her way here once again. Yes, you read that right. Kate will be here with me for the third time. She’s going to be accompanying me on a family vacation and my move to Seattle, which is probably her favorite place that she hasn’t visited yet. Even though I’m not actually packing my stuff, moving is still stressful, and I’m very happy that she’ll be by my side for this important part of my life. We’re going to have so much fun.

I won’t be saying goodbye to Gainesville for good; my parents moved to this area last year. I get two weeks of vacation my first year.

Here’s a video of my friends Yamilee and Austin discussing how they left their religious faiths for atheism. Fascinating, and not just because I know Yamilee and Austin. Check it out.

It started at her apartment on Thursday, where we hung out and walked to a nearby Mexican restaurant. Even though it was Cinco de Mayo, it wasn’t crowded. Well, we were also early. It was a great experience. At my apartment, there are no restaurants within walking distance (unless you want to walk on a road bridge that has no sidewalk). In Seattle, I hope to be within walking distance of most everything.

In the wee hours of the morning, we made it to Orlando International Airport, and from there we flew west. In doing so, she lost the #1 fun fact she’s uses to describe herself: that she’s never been on an airplane. She’ll have to think of something else now! But I’d never been out west at all, so really, the trip was new for both of us.

We were flying to LA for a layover, so from the plane, we were able to see the Southwest’s mesas, mountains, and canyons in the morning sunlight. What a beautiful sight it was… And then there was LA. I thought I would feel cooler being in LA, having digested all the crap that everyone tells you about California and everything. Instead, I probably caught some sort of lung disease. As luck would have it, we had to go outside and take a bus to a different part of the airport to catch our next flight, and in doing so, we about choked on the filthy air.

Our first flight had been with Delta, but the next was with Alaska Airlines. It seemed more comfortable in a way. The plane was less well-kept, the flight attendants were older, and the pilot was more than happy to point out landmarks like Lake Tahoe as we made our way up the West Coast.

I wasn’t feeling good. I think it was the combination of a total lack of sleep (it’s relatively hard for me), some coffee I had had without sugar (never again), strange eating habits borne of being awake all night and sitting in planes for hours, and a large amount of worrying about whether I’d even like this city I’d been visiting through a computer screen for months, the city that was destined by contract to be my home.

The plane descended, and downtown Seattle appeared behind the gray clouds below. It was all there, the Space Needle and everything. That, I think, is when my attitude really started to turn around.

It was cold as we got out of the airport. It was also raining. We took the Link Light Rail from the airport to downtown. Where the other passengers saw the usual sights, I sat with wonder. I hope never to lose that sense of wonder one should have in new places. Same with being on a plane. Everyone in an airplane always seems so bored, even as it’s taking off and landing. A lot of them don’t even bother to look out the window. What a shame.

Once we made it to the right station downtown, I found the hotel Amazon had booked for me and checked in. After taking a breather, we decided to walk to the 5 Point Cafe in the nearby neighborhood of Belltown. Belltown is where I want to live, and the 5 Point, I am led to believe, is a Seattle institution. It also has chicken-fried bacon, so we would have had to check it out anyway.

It wasn’t a long walk. We could see the Space Needle from where we sat in the restaurant, so after enjoying some soul food (including the bacon, which came with biscuit gravy), we headed to Seattle’s most famous attraction. It was very windy up there, but we stayed outside long enough to get a few good pictures. I also pointed out the locations of Amazon’s new headquarters and some of the apartments we were going to be touring.

Next, we took the monorail to the Westlake Center. It’s a short ride, barely more than two minutes, but it saves some walking and is pretty fun. It goes to the Westlake Center, which is this shopping center closer to downtown. (I guess you could say it’s actually downtown, but Seattle’s neighborhoods exist only unofficially, so it can be hard to say what’s where.)

While my sister shopped there and at Nordstrom’s flagship store, I thought. I hate the cold and the rain, so Seattle sounds like an odd choice for me. But it seems like a really interesting and liveable city, and the fact that I have a lucrative job lined up there doesn’t hurt at all. It’s just… the weather. At any given time, I was wearing almost all of the clothes I had packed (including three shirts and a windbreaker), and I was still cold. It was unbelievably windy at times. If it was going to be like this all the time, I wasn’t going to like it.

The next morning, it was pretty clear out; I could see snow-capped mountains from the hotel room. The forecast called for it to be cloudy and drizzly all day with only a few “sun breaks.” Neither my sister nor I had heard the term before, and we thought it sounded pretty sad. In Florida, we have cloud breaks.

We started our day by going to a doughnut place I had heard of called Top Pot Doughnuts. It was also in Belltown, so we were able to walk there too. If you like doughnuts, you’ll love Top Pot. Their doughnuts are fantastic. I also had a cherry blossom, which is their cherry milkshake. It was good, but with the doughnuts, there was too much sweetness there, and that’s saying a lot coming from me. Everything’s good, but don’t get the cherry blossom and the doughnuts at the same time.

My destination services consultant (hired by Amazon) had made six appointments for me at apartment complexes in the area, so our next task was to visit those. Everyone we talked to was really nice, and nobody really tried to get me to sign a lease right there (which was good because the consultant said that might happen). Some buildings had only a few stories and others were very tall. Some didn’t look so good and others were very fancy. Some places impressed me more than others, so I managed to come up with a few favorites. The whole point of the trip was to do just that; I didn’t have to pick one just yet.

Between appointments, we had time to slip away to the famous Pike Place Market, where they throw the fish. For lunch, we split a Dungeness crab BLT and a salad from a nearby restaurant called Seatown. We also were able to go to the Olympic Sculpture Park, which is right on the water and is run by the Seattle Art Museum. The weather was better than forecast; it was actually sunny some of the time (but it was still pretty windy too).

After the last appointment, I was tired of seeing apartments. We had a little bit of time left to go to the Experience Music Project, a music museum near the Space Needle. We met up with my friend Mark to check it out.

Mark is quite a bit like me. We’re both left-handed; we both use the Dvorak keyboard. We both enrolled in the University of Florida, majoring in computer science and minoring in business administration. We were both in the honors program and both lived in Hume Hall. We both got jobs in the Dean of Students Office and were both officers in the Esperanto Club and Students for Free Culture. And then we both got hired by tech companies in the Seattle area and moved or are moving there. Actually, he’s a year older than I am, so I followed him into many of those things, but it’s just a coincidence that we’ll be living near each other in the same city after we’ve both graduated.

Anyway, we checked out the Nirvana exhibit at the Experience Music Project. I learned a lot about Nirvana, and it was cool to see all their broken guitars and stuff. I’m sure nobody expected them to end up in a museum someday. Seattle seems to be pretty proud of the fact that it was the musical capital of the world for a few years.

After that, the three of us moseyed to Amazon’s headquarters in the South Lake Union neighborhood. If I hadn’t known where it was, I wouldn’t have found it. There don’t seem to be any markings of any kind; just some big, new buildings with yellow accents and a courtyard in between with some tables. I’m going to be working there. I still can’t really get a grip on the thought.

Mark had to get going, but we asked him to recommend a place for dinner. He told us about a restaurant called Etta’s where they had good seafood. We followed his directions and found that it was right next to the restaurant where we had lunch. After dinner, we went back to Pike Place Market, where my sister, who is Starbucks’ #1 fan, visited the first Starbucks. After that, we went to a candy store and got some sweets. There’s always room for candy.

(no jurdon there isn’t thats how you get fat)

From there, we walked through the heart of downtown, all the way to Pioneer Square and back. On the way, a drunk and/or homeless guy started talking to us and wouldn’t leave us alone even though we weren’t really responding to him. We got rid of him by walking into the first place we passed, which happened to be a shop. The shopkeeper was closing up shop, but I explained our situation. She was nice and talked about how the police cracks down on homelessness whenever Seattle plays host to a big event.

This is an issue I’ve grappled with before, but I’ll probably have to confront it much more often now. How does one deal with homeless people respectfully? Our society does so much to make them miserable, but I realize that they’re people and that they deserve to be treated as such. I don’t necessarily want to talk to them all the time—I don’t necessarily want to talk to anyone all the time—but I want to do a little bit to help them out without sustaining their bad habits, even if it’s just giving them a $5 gift card for Denny’s or something. On the other hand, I don’t want anyone to grow dependent on me. I also would want to be sure they’re actually homeless and not just out collecting cash for fun. It’s a tough situation.

Anyway, I was exhausted after a big day, and I was sad that it was almost over, but I was excited that I’d be going back soon.

On Sunday morning, we went to Top Pot again, and then we were off to the airport. This time we had a layover in Minneapolis, so we got to see some different scenery on the way there, including the Rocky Mountains (which the Alaska Airlines pilot duly pointed out). Then we flew back to Orlando and made it back to Gainesville. It was a lot of traveling, but we did a lot while we were in Seattle.

I’ll be back there in less than two weeks, this time for good. I’ll be moving into corporate housing at first, and that’s when the more serious apartment search will begin. I guess if I can stay warm, everything will be fine.

Recently, I was interviewed over the phone about my involvement in Where’s George? by a journalism student at Arizona State University. He talked to several other people, but I was the one who got the Quote At The End That Summarizes Everything. Nice! Here’s the article.

Well, since I got a job at Amazon in Seattle, they’re going to help me move out there. I’ve done extensive research into Seattle apartments (I’m just looking to rent right now), and a Destination Services Consultant hired by Amazon has provided me with apartment recommendations based on my suggestions and preferences. My next step is a preliminary visit to Seattle to check out the apartments that seem most promising and to try to get a feel for the city.

I’ve never been to Seattle at all, or even on the West Coast. (whut jardon how have u never been two the west cost?????)

Wait. Stop right there. I’ll tell you.

My first out-of-state trip I can remember was to northern Georgia, circa 1994. My family drove to Pennsylvania and Ohio to visit relatives in the summer of 1999. We went on a cruise to Cozumel, Mexico, in 2000, and we took a road trip to the Blue Ridge Mountains later that year. Then we went on a cruise to the Bahamas in 2002 and spent some time in North Carolina and Tennessee in 2004. Also in 2004, I went to Pennsylvania and Ohio again with my dad, and in 2007, my family went on a cruise to the Cayman Islands and Jamaica. In 2009, I traveled to the United Kingdom, France, Spain, Monaco, Italy, Vatican City, Croatia, Austria, Slovakia, the Czech Republic, Germany, the Netherlands, and Belgium. And just a few months ago, I was in Russia. Problem?

For the curious, the westernmost place I’ve been to is Cozumel, Mexico, which, to give you an idea, is close to the easternmost point in Mexico. The southernmost place I’ve been to is Ocho Rios, Jamaica, and the northernmost and easternmost is Pudozh, Russia, which is farther north than Anchorage, Alaska, those Canadian provinces that are arranged neatly in a row, and the southernmost point in Greenland, and farther east than all of Israel and I got tired of looking at the map to find other places. So I think I win. I mean, it’s not a game at all. Fine.

Ah, all that time I spent finding links and stuff is time I could have spent packing. So I’ll be brief.

This post is about going to Seattle. My sister is going with me. We’ll be arriving tomorrow afternoon and leaving on Sunday. I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures if it doesn’t rain all over my camera. (And yeah, I’ll bring an umbrella. And boots.)

My Destination Services Consultant is making appointments, so we’ll work around the schedule she gives us. It should leave us enough time to do all the touristy things like checking out the Space Needle, Pike Place Market, and whatever else we decide we want to do. It would even be nice just to chill out at one of Seattle’s many parks and even enjoy the view of Puget Sound.

Okay, time to get packing. Follow me on Twitter to get INSTANT UPDATES from my trip if I feel like writing them!

Another one of those lists: Top 10 Bizarre Cases of Mass Hysteria, as determined by someone who knows how to rank bizarreness. (Via The Presurfer)

The graduates who wished to show up were told to do so and a half early, so we all had to be early too. The rest of my family and I sat for eons in the basketball arena, watching the floor for signs of life. Finally, a small brass ensemble started looping “Pomp and Circumstance,” and there was a processional. There had been no rehearsal (how could you get so many people to come to the same place twice?), yet somehow, everyone was perfectly capable of walking in a line and taking a seat. I guess the lesson to be learned from this is that high-schoolers cannot be trusted.

The ceremony began, of course, with the singing of the national anthem. I wondered who came up with the idea of singing the national anthem at graduation ceremonies, but there probably isn’t much of a story behind it. I’d be willing to bet that some nationalistic person simply suggested it, and so it was. No one throughout history would have opposed such a suggestion, for fear of looking like a Loyal-, secession-, anarch-, fasc-, commun-, or terrorist. Why, for example, don’t we say the Pledge of Allegiance in college classes? Why not play the national anthem before movies at the student union? And I’ve noticed many college football teams put American flags on their helmets, so why not have them on the jerseys as well? Once law- and policymakers hear of these ideas, they’ll have to support them; to do otherwise would be career suicide. Just think of how much shit Obama got because everyone else was wearing a flag pin and he wasn’t. I call this phenomenon “nationalism creep,” but some scholar has probably already identified it and come up with a better name.

Anyway, once the ceremony was underway, the President of the University delivered a message, and a few awards were given out to alumni and graduating students, leading to a few more brief speeches. And then it was time for the main attraction: the “conferring of degrees.” It’s all symbolic, really. You never actually get your diploma at your graduation. Your grades for the past semester are still being worked out and won’t be available for a few more days, and only then can they have your diploma printed up all fancy and whatnot, at which time they mail it to you. I guess it’s only fair that attending graduation is optional when you can’t be certain that you’ll actually graduate.

In (my) college, unlike (my) high school, you don’t even get a prop diploma case when you walk the stage. Instead you just shake hands with some people, and that’s it. The last person you shake hands with is the president, and that’s when they take your picture to try to sell it to you for an exorbitant price later. But first, you hand whoever’s reading the names a card so they know how to pronounce your name. Conveniently, you can write your address on the card so they can mail you complimentary proofs of your $20,000 handshake with so-and-so.

We were all proud to see my sister walk the stage even though they butchered our name. She was one of the last to go, so it was a relief. The whole process took a long time, even though they were reading names about as fast as reasonably possible, with multiple people walking the stage at any given time. And once that was done, the new graduates sang the alma mater, swaying back and forth in the manner usually reserved for “We Are the Boys from Old Florida” after the third quarter of home football games. There was no recessional. It was just the way a graduation should be.

All the restaurants in Gainesville were packed that weekend, so when graduation was over, we went back to my parents’ house for a dinner of vegetable lasagna and eggplant parmesan. Even though my grandparents spent the night, I was allowed to sleep in my own bed. The next day, we had all had lunch at the Great Outdoors Restaurant in nearby High Springs, and from there, we headed to campus so my sister and I could be photographed in our caps and gowns, as is common for graduating students to do.

A lot of people have pictures of themselves standing on the football field in their caps and gowns. Normally, walking on Florida Field is discouraged unless you have a legitimate reason to be there, but apparently they turn a blind eye to it if you’ve recently met the requirements for a degree. So after taking some pictures with the football team’s trophies that are on display at one corner of the stadium, I decided we had to get inside. We walked all the way around the stadium (including my poor sister in high heels), and the only gate that was open was the last one that we checked. So I’d say it’s barely tolerated.

Was it worth it, though. Some other graduates were already on the field, but not too many. The first thing I did was go to the 50-yard line (or where I imagined it would be if the field were marked), right in the middle where the big orange “F” would be, and looked around. The stadium is oriented north-south. I looked to the east side and saw the students’ and visiting team’s sections. This is how the alumni and the TV cameras see the games, with the “F” right-side up, but I had never seen the stadium that way myself. And I certainly had never tread the hallowed ground of Florida Field. My dad took pictures of my sister and me at various parts of the field until we were satisfied.

And then it was about time for me to get to my own graduation. We went back to the basketball arena, where my family took the same seats as before, so I could easily find them. I waited in the wings at the floor level with the other graduating students in my department. I got really crowded in there, and I was starting to get claustrophobic. But finally, we were told to start the procession.

My sister’s ceremony had been for multiple colleges; this one was just for the College of Engineering. All I could do was compare my graduation with hers; whoever planned mine had made some different choices. The first one that I noticed as I walked out onto the floor was the music. They chose the organ as the main musical instrument, and it wasn’t playing “Pomp and Circumstance” but something religious-sounding. I felt like I was in church again, but I guess any music played on an organ can sound like that.

A student who was double-majoring in engineering and vocal performance led the national anthem. Most singers love to cheese up that song with all their stupid vocal tricks, but she genuinely had a beautiful voice and didn’t pull any gimmicks. The President of the University was conspicuously absent; representing him was the Interim Vice President for Student Affairs. The dean of the college did most of the talking. A lot of awards were given out to new graduates and alumni, and each recipient had something to say. One of the award recipients was Chris Malachowsky, one of the co-founders of Nvidia, and another was the CEO of Progressive, the car insurance company with the commercials featuring Flo, the bubbly woman who has no life.

After what seemed like forever, it was time for… the commencement speaker to give his speech. I thought it was common for college graduations to have a speaker like this, but my sister’s graduation didn’t have one at all. Our speaker was some old guy who had been on both sides of the military-industrial complex. I’m sure whatever he was talking about was halfway interesting, but he was just a really dull speaker who bored the pants off everybody. Kate, who was watching my graduation online, texted me to say he was “outrageously, exhaustingly talkative.” A guy a few seats away from me texted his friend, “Y U NO STOP TALKING?” (with the appropriate rage face, of course). Finally, everyone sounded restless, and he got the hint. I felt sorry for him. Imagine preparing a speech and delivering it at a college graduation only to bore everybody in attendance. I guess you can prevent that by not being boring, but apparently not everyone has that skill.

Finally, it was time for everyone to walk the stage. I just followed the guy in front of me, and it was no problem. I just had to make sure not to look down or else my hat would fall off. On my pronunciation card, I had made the pronunciation of my family name even clearer than my sister had, but they still mispronounced it anyway. I tried to remain upbeat as I shook hands with the dean and some other people I didn’t recognize. (I wonder how the photo of me shaking hands with the dean came out.) Once we got offstage, we were directed to pose in front of a green screen for another photo that they’ll probably send us proofs of. And then we went back to our seats.

After everyone had walked the stage, it was time again to end the ceremony by singing the alma mater, which was led by the same student who had sung the national anthem:

Florida, our Alma Mater,
Thy glorious name we praise.
All thy loyal sons and daughters
A joyous song shall raise.
Where palm and pine are blowing,
Where southern seas are flowing,
Shine forth thy noble gothic walls,
Thy lovely vine-clad halls.
‘Neath the orange and blue victorious,
Our love shall never fail.
There’s no other name so glorious,
All hail, Florida, hail!

Although the alma mater is slow and solemn, it’s traditional to shout the words “victorious” and “glorious” while extending one’s fist into the air. I knocked my cap off on “victorious” and just went with it. This wasn’t high school graduation, after all. Sure, it was serious and everything, but they knew it was a time to have fun. Hence the beach balls that someone started throwing around after everyone had walked the stage.

And that’s how I became a college graduate.

Here are a couple of Ask Jordon questions from Kate:

According to your article, you don’t remember QWERTY. How did you type on my netbook then? Do you use the standard or the left-handed Dvorak?

I wrote that I’d forgotten QWERTY after learning Dvorak. I learned QWERTY again.

Every Russian man 18 years old or older must serve in the army for one year. The conditions are poor and there is a risk of mockeries, hazing and even death. What would you do if you were a Russian boy? (You can Google about current situation.)

Like most young American men, I’ve thought a bit about how I might feel if I were drafted into the US Army, but fortunately, there hasn’t been a draft in a long time. I can’t even imagine how I’d feel about compulsory service, but without the element of surprise in play, at least I might be mentally prepared. If you’re talking about deserting, I don’t think I’d do it. If an army is mad at you, bad things can happen. One year of hell doesn’t sound that bad compared to the risk of a much greater penalty.

Want airport security screeners to see you naked? No? Wednesday, November 24, is National Opt-Out Day. Of course, you can (still) choose not to go through the naked body scanner whenever you fly, but people have promoted opting out on a busy travel day to get their point across. I should point out that the alternative—getting groped—isn’t much more pleasant. The terrorists have won. (Via J-Walk Blog)