The transition

Whenever I spend time with Kate, I spend five or ten posts writing all about what we did. Not this last time. As you may recall, I only devoted two posts to her visit. In particular, I barely mentioned our last few days together at all, so I’d like to fix that now.

Monday, May 30, was Memorial Day. It was my last day before I was due to start my new job, and Kate and I were still in Olympia. We were due to meet up with the guy who had given us a ride there a few days earlier, so we met him in the Subway parking lot where he had dropped us off. Kate wanted to sit next to me, so I asked the guy if I could sit in the back with her. The thought clearly made him uneasy. He started to explain that he used to be a taxi driver. I understood and took the passenger’s seat so I could chat with him. Whenever I’m traveling with Kate, I make enough small talk for both of us. She doesn’t mind because it’s not really her thing.

He gave us a ride back to my temporary apartment in Seattle, where we hung out for the rest of the day. We decided to order delivery from an Italian restaurant called Primo. It was only down the street, but I was feeling supremely lazy, so delivery it was. The food was really good, so it was worth it. I had pesto gnocchi, and Kate got a pesto chicken sandwich. That’s good stuff.

Tuesday, May 31, was my first day at work. I’ve mentioned how that day was, so I don’t have much to add about it. I met Kate downtown after I got out, and we looked for a place to have dinner. After a fairly exhaustive search, we ended up eating at an excellent place called Petra Mediterranean Bistro. It was a little pricey, it was worth it. The place was quiet and intimate, and the food and the service were great. (The portions were good too; I took Kate’s leftovers with me to work the next day as my lunch.)

Afterwards, we went across the street so Kate could have some coffee. Then we took a walk by the waterfront, and by then, it was getting late. We made it to the Space Needle not long before it closed because our City Pass tickets were about to expire. Unfortunately, this was the only time Kate and I went to the Space Needle, but I’m glad we went at least once. The view at night is beautiful.

After work on Wednesday, June 1, I again met Kate downtown, this time at the Levi’s Store on 6th Avenue. She was going to buy jeans for herself and her friends (they’re much cheaper here than they are in Russia), and the store was having a sale, so it turned out that it would only cost about $5 to get another pair. So, Kate bought a pair for me. We spent a good deal of time making sure that I got the exact style I wanted in the size I needed. I’m loath to try on clothes in a store, but it’s important for something that you’re going to wear a lot. I realized how loose all of my old jeans are. The ones Kate got me are tighter than I’m used to, but it seems like they’re the proper size.

After that, we went back to the apartment, and Kate made a Russian dish called French meat. It’s basically meat, cheese, tomatoes, and pasta. (I’m not sure if that’s the official way to make French meat, as I’d never heard of it before, but that’s how she served it, anyway.) Kate is a talented cook, so it was very nice. She also made banana nut muffins.

Thursday, June 2, was the last day of Kate’s visit. I met her at a restaurant during my lunch break. She had all her bags (it must have taken her forever to walk around with everything), and she was going right to the airport after that. I had decided on an apartment, so while we were waiting for our food, I darted across the street to the apartment complex to start the paperwork, which had to be done that day. I came back in time to get my food, and then it was time to say goodbye to Kate.

I haven’t thought about these days for a while—I guess I thought they weren’t as interesting as the rest of her visit—but I realize now that they were some of my favorites. Of course, any day with Kate is one of my favorite days, and I’m really missing her now as I think back on them. I’m happier than I used to be before I met her, and she genuinely cares about me and makes me a better person. I hope we’ll be able to see each other again soon.

My friend Reid Ewing, whom you may know from TV’s Modern Family, is starring in a new YouTube series called Reid-ing. Check out Episode 1, “It’s Free,” and Episode 2, “Free Fish.” (Watch his South Florida roots show through as he mentions manatees getting hit by boats and calls the aquarium a “seaquarium“).

Birthday post

Here it is, the requisite birthday blog post.

Contrary to popular belief, it wasn’t a bummer to go to work on my birthday. Everybody has to do it at some point. And besides, I got a lot of work done, and nobody bothered me. That’s because I hardly told anyone it was my birthday. That helps.

I’m past the age where I want a lot of things for my birthday, but I have gotten some good gifts this year. My favorite was a carton of strawberries that Kate ordered for me from an online grocery delivery service. It was a delicious surprise, and I’m sure it will continue to be because I haven’t eaten them all yet.

What I’ve done for most of the last few birthdays is go out to dinner with my friends. So I figured I’d go out to dinner with the people I invited to my housewarming/Fourth of July party last week, but I didn’t know where we should go. A couple of them suggested this Japanese place called Wann, where they could get a Microsoft employee discount for a party of up to six.

As it turned out, there were fewer than six of us; four, to be exact. But I had a good time, and I think everyone else did too. We ended up splitting everything we ordered, so it was fun to try different things.

Well, that does it for now. Have to get ready for work tomorrow.

Declaration of independence

I always knew that when I had my own place, I’d like to have company often. And when I was first moving in to my new apartment, I was told that I’d be able to see the city’s Fourth of July fireworks show. So, I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone by having a housewarming party on the Fourth of July. Not only would it allow me some social interaction, but it would also give me something to look forward to as I got settled in. And I guess it would be my first social event as a real adult—a declaration of independence, if you will. Will you? No? Okay.

I spent much of that weekend getting my place in order. I invited everyone I knew in Seattle, mostly Microsofties and Amazonians I had gone to school with. Yes, I’m not totally alone here in my new city; I actually know more people here than I thought. Some of them are only here as interns during the summer, but maybe they’ll come back after they graduate.

I have low expectations when it comes to RSVPs. My birthday is in the summer (tomorrow, actually), and when I was a teenager, the turnout for my birthday parties was usually dismal. So you can imagine how pleased I was that most of the people I invited were able to make it. A few friends of friends also came over, so I got to meet new people. Perhaps of interest to World of Stuff readers is that I invited Daniel, a longtime reader who’s currently an intern at Microsoft. It was good to finally meet him!

So, what was it like? Well, there was plenty of food; I had bought some chips and soda, but I asked people to bring some more snacks also. I’m still eating (and drinking) the leftovers. For soda, I chose Coke because everybody likes Coke, and I also got Mountain Dew because it’s a stereotypical favorite of nerds, presumably for the caffeine content. One of my guests had the same reasoning and brought the same drinks. Great minds.

I wanted to make it clear to everyone that this wasn’t going to be a party in the college (or, presumably, high school, although I wouldn’t know) sense of the word. No loud music, excess drinking, vomiting, or anything like that. I was not disappointed. Everyone behaved responsibly, even though there was beer. Hooray for being adults.

We mostly just chatted in a big group, at first on my balcony, and then in my living room, and then back to the balcony to watch the fireworks. We had a good view of the show, and we were so close that I could start to smell the fireworks by the end of it. After the fireworks, we went back to my living room to continue the conversation until people started leaving one by one. Daniel crashed here because his transportation options at night were fairly limited.

So, will we do it again? A couple of people told me they hoped so, and I invited everyone to dinner tomorrow night for my birthday.

Plus, we’ll have an even better view of the fireworks on New Year’s Eve. They launch them from the Space Needle.

Here’s a high-speed video in slow motion. It looks like time is standing still. (Via The Presurfer)

Pride parade

Last weekend (not the most recent one, but the one before that… does the English language have a better way to handle this, or are we stuck?) was my first weekend in my new apartment, and that Sunday was a gorgeous day. Best of all, the Space Needle, which I could see quite clearly from my oversized windows, was flying the rainbow flag. Indeed, it was the day of the Seattle Pride Parade, which would be going down my street.

There had been this whole big thing about the owners of the Space Needle wanting $50,000 in exchange for flying the pride flag, and I think some money was collected, but anyway, something happened and they decided to hoist it up. So that was a great thing to see in the morning. I was pondering whether I should watch the parade from my window or from the street when I got a text from my friend Mark. He said he was at my apartment building visiting other people and invited me to join them.

There was a whole get-together going on, and Mark was one of many guests. They had this fancy brunch buffet and everything, complete with mimosas or whatever alcoholic beverages people drink before noon. When it came time for the parade to start, some of us went down to the street to watch. There were a lot of people already there, so one of the other guests had gone ahead and saved us a spot.

I had only been to a few parades before, and none on this scale. There were LGBT groups, corporate groups, church groups, musical groups… you name it. Amazon had a group marching in the parade, and so did Microsoft. Members of Seattle Atheists were dressed as pirates and had a giant Flying Spaghetti Monster, and Mark ran into the street to be touched by its noodly appendage.

Speaking of noodly appendages, I guess it was bad of me to assume that there would be a lot of overt sexuality in the parade. There wasn’t, really, except for the naked bicyclists. I wonder how they were allowed to be naked outside. Some of them didn’t even have body paint… I think. I was looking at their faces.

Throughout the parade, there was a lot of noise—cheering, applauding, and so on—but not a word needed to be spoken. That really made an emotional impact on me, the fact that a large group of people could celebrate without words. Everybody seemed to have the same idea in mind.

I have a retort for anyone who might wonder why many LGBT people express their pride so publicly: “I believe they’ll keep on doing it as long as you keep trying to make them feel ashamed.” Fortunately, I haven’t had to use it yet, and I hope I never will, but there’s still a long way to go. And the fact that the parade was on a Sunday morning: irony at its deliciousest. (Well, it’s not really irony, I guess.)

Here are some photos of the parade from someone who must have been standing right next to me.

This link is a little late for the Fourth of July, but watch an British teenager show off his knowledge of American history.

To the muddy banks of the Wishkah

So there we were. I had picked up my friend Andy from the airport, and we went back to my temporary apartment in Seattle. Andy, Kate, and I were all together again at last. Both of them had traveled great distances to visit me: Kate from Saint Petersburg, Russia, and Andy from Albany, New York. It’s enough to make a guy blush.

It was Tuesday, May 24, for those of you keeping score at home. For lunch, we decided to check out an Asian buffet not far from the apartment. It turned out to be a winner, especially because we were there while it was closing and everything was cheaper.

After that, each of us got a CityPass so we could check out a bunch of local attractions for a low, low price. Andy and Kate had never been to Seattle, and I had barely been there before, so it would be fun for all of us. The first thing we did was go on a tour boat around Elliott Bay. The weather was great, we saw some interesting things (like Mount Rainier and a bunch of sea lions), and I learned some fun facts. It was an hour well spent.

Next, we went to Pike Place Market, which, of course, is free to visit. It was getting late in the day, so many of the vendors were packing up, but we still got to see some cool things. But after that, we lounged around in nearby Victor Steinbrueck Park and then went to a tea shop for some tea tasting. Needless to say, it was quite a tease!!

Amazon had hired a company to manage my move to Seattle, and that company had in turn hired a company to research places to live. So my consultant had set up some appointments to check out condos for rent. Andy and Kate went with me, which was good because they noticed some things that I didn’t. It’s always good to have a second set of eyes. Neither of the condos was perfect, but they each had good and bad things about them. Time was running out, and I was feeling pressured to make a decision.

Later, we met my friend Mark for dinner at a trendy restaurant that was actually pretty good. Mark is my closest friend in Seattle, so it was good to see him again. I had seen him the last time I went to Seattle, which was only a few weeks before, but still.

The next day was rainy. Andy, Kate, and I went to the Seattle Aquarium and then hurried to the Pacific Science Center to watch an IMAX movie about underwater volcanoes. Andy and Kate were really tired (maybe because of the travel?) and dozed off during the movie. I, for one, thought it was fascinating. The depths of the ocean, after all, are the last frontier on Earth and have barely been explored. But I don’t blame Andy and Kate for wanting to discover the insides of their eyelids. I wish I could fall asleep as easily as they can.

After waking up my friends, we stayed at the Pacific Science Center, which is like one of those children’s science museums with all the fun exhibits and stuff. To my surprise, there was a butterfly garden. The three of us had been to one in Florida when it was extremely cold and the butterflies were all lying around dead. This time, it was pleasantly warm (thanks to some sort of magic), and butterflies were flying around everywhere.

The next day, Thursday, was Andy’s last full day in Seattle, so I was determined to make the most of it. But Andy and Kate were both tired, so I went to some condo appointments by myself. None of the places I saw impressed me very much. Afterwards, I wandered around Pike Place Market, and I called Andy so he could meet me there. In doing so, he got a second chance to explore the place when there was more going on.

We didn’t do much for the rest of the day, and in the morning, I accompanied Andy to the train station. I even helped him with one of his bags, which I forgot to give to him before he got on the train. Luckily, there wasn’t anything too important in there.

It’s sad when you don’t know when you’re going to see someone again, but fortunately, technology can help keep people close. The world really is getting smaller: I imagine with wonder that a trip between the US and Russia would have taken weeks in the past (please forget about Alaska and Siberia for the purposes of this demonstration), and I can talk to someone in Russia like they’re right here, and I can actually be there in a matter of hours. Of course, New York State is even closer.

Anyway, after seeing Andy off, I had an appointment to check out some apartments at a complex I had visited during my first trip to Seattle. I really felt like I needed to make a decision that day because I had already been in the market for a long time, and I was about to start my new job, so I’d have much less time to devote to the search.

So, it came down to two apartments at this one complex that I liked. One was a two-bedroom, two-bathroom corner unit on the fifth floor, overlooking an intersection. The other was a one-bedroom, one-bathroom unit on the 26th floor, with all new furnishings and a 30-foot-long balcony with a view of Puget Sound and the entire Space Needle.

It was a tough decision. I wanted enough space, but the view, and the new everything, was hard to resist. I didn’t want to make price too important in my decision (that’s what I did the last time I looked for an apartment, and it didn’t turn out so great), but it wouldn’t have mattered because the prices for both were about equal. In the end, I decided to go for the smaller apartment with the great view. I rationalized my decision by telling myself that it was facing a nicer street and that the upkeep would be easier because it was smaller. And I really did want a cozy place all along.

I was kind of irrational with the decision, and I was worried that I regret it. But my decision wasn’t necessarily final yet, so I decided to think about it a bit. Fortunately, I was able to relax a bit as Kate had planned an excursion to Olympia and Aberdeen, to see places important in the history of grunge music and Nirvana in particular.

On Saturday morning, we got a ride to Olympia thanks to Craigslist and had a place to stay thanks to CouchSurfing. But we had some time to kill before we could get to our host’s place, so we went to a restaurant he had recommended: a place called Darby’s. The food was pretty standard greasy breakfast/lunch fare (I had chicken fried steak), and the decor was eclectic (e.g. a wall covered with Wizard of Oz memorabilia). The staff and the patrons were pretty eclectic as well. It reminded me of Gainesville.

The whole place reminded me of Gainesville, what with the music scene and college students roaming the streets and the secondhand clothing store/record store with a stack of voter registration forms near the counter. Our host turned out to be super nice (they always are with CouchSurfing), and he didn’t live too far from everything else, so we were able to walk everywhere. A house that Kurt Cobain had rented wasn’t far away, so we checked it out too (trying to be discreet because someone seemed to live there).

Having spent Saturday in Olympia, we set out on Sunday morning to take a bus to Kurt Cobain’s hometown of Aberdeen, Washington. It was a small city under a gray sky with strip malls, bridges, and not much else. On our host’s recommendation, we visited the Star Wars Shop, which had a section called “Kurt Cobain Memorabilia & Infocenter.” The owner of the store saw which part of the place we were more interested in but asked us to sign both guestbooks. He was a cool guy, though. He gave us directions to a park that had been dedicated to Kurt Cobain, but we had other things to do first.

After Kate got a cool pair of shoes at Ross, we walked around trying to find the bridge that Kurt is said to have slept under as a youth. We checked all the bridges we could find (there weren’t too many), until we noticed another one on the map, far away from the others. We had to go down a residential street to get there, but sure enough, we struck gold. There was the park that the guy from the Star Wars Store had told us about. The area under around the bridge was a park dedicated to Kurt.

Aberdeen is a sleepy town, but there a few other groups of Nirvana fans had found the park, which wasn’t even on our map. Together we stood underneath the bridge, watching the Wishkah River flow by. This was the bridge mentioned in the song “Something in the Way”:

Underneath the bridge, the tarp has sprung a leak
And the animals I’ve trapped have all become my pets
And I’m living off of grass and the drippings from the ceiling…

A sign had the lyrics to the song, and on the ground was a plaque with some quotations by Kurt, including a four-letter word that had been subsequently scratched out. There was also a brand-new statue of a guitar by a local artist. There were some benches where Kate wrote a couple of postcards, and that was about it. It was a small park with a lot of emotion contained inside.

After spending some time there, we continued down the street through the neighborhood where Kurt grew up. We found his house, which looked just as sad as all the others, and I imagined what it must have been like for him there as a child. I wondered if it was just as bleak of a place in the ’70s. I figured it probably was. It was hard to imagine that there had ever been any signs of life there. The whole neighborhood was perfectly still and quiet. It was almost creepy.

Some of the addresses we looked for didn’t exist; instead, there were empty lots. “You lookin’ for Kurt Cobain’s house?” a man shouted to us from a distance as we stood where the first house he rented was supposed to be. They tore it down, he said. Too many kids having parties in there and causing a ruckus.

It was time for a late lunch, so we went to a restaurant called Billy’s, which our host recommended to us. He had said that it wasn’t particularly good but that it was the best restaurant he had eaten at in Aberdeen. I found it to be thoroughly okay. I had a yak cheeseburger. Yak meat tastes similar to beef, and according to the menu at the restaurant, has one-sixth as much fat.

After seeing the music store where Kurt’s first guitar had come from and dropping off Kate’s postcards at the post office, we were on the bus back to Olympia. Except it was Sunday evening and the bus didn’t go all the way back, so we had to get off in an even smaller town and call for our host to pick us up. Fortunately this outcome was completely expected by everyone because we Were Prepared™.

On Monday morning, Memorial Day, our Craigslist ride picked us up again and dropped us off in Seattle.

The next day was my first day of work. I didn’t get to spend much time with Kate after that, and I didn’t take any more pictures. Thursday, June 2, was Kate’s last day in the US, and I met her for lunch. She had all her bags and was going right to the airport after that. I had confirmed my decision to take the apartment with the great view, so while we were waiting for our food, I darted across the street to start the paperwork, which had to be done that day. But, looking back, I wish I had been with her the whole time. Parting isn’t such sweet sorrow. It’s just sorrow.

Now I’m sure you’re wondering what it’s like to work at Amazon. I’m eager to tell you, and I’m eager to tell you what it’s like to work full-time at all, but more than that, I am tired. Soon, though.

Seattle

For over eight years, I’ve written about important things that have happened in my life. This, however, is the most important so far: having graduated from college, I’ve moved to a new city to start a full-time job. By all accounts, I have become a fully functioning adult.

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.

Gainesville

I used to come here when I was little. My aunt went to school at the University of Florida and mostly stayed in the area. So when I was a kid, I would visit with my family from time to time. We would stay at her house off Main Street or in the Rush Lake Motel near campus (don’t go there). When I came here once with my dad, we had dinner at Leonardo’s 706 (which I described in my journal as having “the best darn garlic rolls in town”—I must have been insufferable as a kid).

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.

Here we are now, entertain us

This past weekend, my sister and I visited Seattle so I could get a feel for the city and scope out some places to live.

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.

Return from Russia

I’m writing about events that have transpired almost four months ago now, so of course, I’ve forgotten some details. Fortunately, Kate has helped me get things straight this time.

One thing I forgot to mention last time is that after taking a tour of Pudozh, Kate and I visited her grandmother. I really don’t know how I forgot this. I wasn’t hungry at all, but her grandmother had made bliny (“pancakes,” but actually more like crepes) for Kate and me to eat. They were delicious, and I didn’t want to seem rude, so while Kate and her grandmother talked about things, I ate… and ate, and ate, and ate. Later, I was throwing up from having eaten too much. When will I learn?

We spent a lot of time inside, when we weren’t sleeping, we were watching movies: Darwin’s Nightmare, The Lionshare, The Phantom of the Opera, Forrest Gump, and maybe others.

On New Year’s Eve, Kate and I took it easy. I slept most of the day. In the evening, Kate’s parents and sister went out to ring in the New Year with Kate’s grandmother, so Kate and I had the place to ourselves. A relatively large table had been put out in the living room, and there was a tree in the corner. It looked just like a Christmas tree. We watched TV for a while. On one channel, a Russian movie called The Irony of Fate was playing. Kate told me that it’s always shown on Russian TV on New Year’s. Another channel was showing clips of New Year celebrations from earlier time zones.

After what seemed like forever, it was finally midnight. As we watched the fireworks in Moscow on TV, we ate the traditional New Year’s food of salad Olivier and exchanged gifts. Kate gave me a Girl Talk t-shirt and a card in a commemorative envelope from Soviet times. Then I called my parents and made a point of letting to know that I was talking to them from the future.

I spent the next day looking forward to my school’s last football game during my time as a student. In his final game, Urban Meyer was going to coach the Florida Gators in the Outback Bowl against Penn State. Since I turn to the Internet for all my problems, I figured I’d try to stream a Gainesville radio station that would be broadcasting the game. Kate suggested instead that I try to find the TV broadcast being streamed. I struck gold. Since the game was televised nationally, I found a sketchy website that was streaming a feed of ABC.

So, for four hours, I watched the game. I tried to explain American football to Kate, but I didn’t do a very good job, so I would just tell her when something good happened and when something bad happened. The Gators had suffered several last-second losses during the season, and in the final minutes, with the Gators up 30-24, Penn State was rallying to pull another one on them. Fortunately, an interception led to a touchdown and a victory for Florida.

The next day, January 2, was my last day. Kate made her famous chicken salad, but with the proper ingredients this time. It was just as delicious as it had been before, in my opinion. I packed away what Kate affectionately called Clothes Mountain and finished drinking the cans of Coke I had bought at the local store.

After kissing Kate goodbye, I took my coat off the rack for the last time and said goodbye to her mother and sister. Kate had bought me a bus ticket back to St. Petersburg, so her dad drove me to the bus stop. I thanked him for his hospitality and told him I hoped to see him again soon. And then, once again, I was on my own.

I somehow managed to understand from a woman on the bus that I was sitting in her seat. Other than that, nobody bothered me. This time, I actually read instead of doing nothing. It was more interesting, but I plowed through most of the reading material I had, leaving little for the flight home.

I had made arrangements to stay with a CouchSurfer, so in the morning, once I had arrived back at the bus station in St. Petersburg, I took the subway to the station closest to him. I had some time to kill, so I got a hot coffee at McDonald’s. I only drink hot coffee when I’m trying to wake myself up. (I guess a lot of people do that, actually, but I only use it in case of emergencies like staying awake all night.) The cashier tricked me into also buying a cherry pie, which was delicious. That’s what you call bittersweet right there.

Soon, the CouchSurfer came and took me to his place, where I slept away the afternoon. In the evening, he and his girlfriend made a pizza that reminded me a lot of the pizzas my parents make. We chatted a bit, and after I told them about my plans, they called various cab companies asking about rates and then arranged for the cheapest one to pick me up later. Then we took a walk with some of their friends down to Nevsky Prospect, and I got to see many of the sights I had seen before. We went to a cafe and had tea and some more food.

Later, we got back to my host’s apartment, and the taxi came for me. Soon, I was back at Pulkovo Airport, where I had gotten my first taste of Russia two weeks earlier. It was as dreary as ever, especially so late in the night or early in the morning, whichever it was. Once again, I’d have a layover in Frankfurt, and it was humorously easy to find where I had to go since I think the only other departing flight for hours was a single one to Munich.

In the waiting area or whatever it’s called before you get on the plane (give me a break, I still consider myself a novice traveler), I noticed that there seemed to be a lot of old Americans who were in a tour group or something. On the plane, an old guy and his wife sat next to me. It was snowing outside, and he noticed that I was taking pictures of snowflakes on the window. He spoke up.

“The weather’s not going to be like that in Munich, is it?”

I just about died for a second, but he caught his mistake. “Sorry, Frankfurt.” Oh, old people.

At Frankfurt, I had to go through security to get on to my next flight, and I tried to see if I could get away with going through the metal detector without taking off my boots. It didn’t work, so I had to take them off and try again. And then I had to put them back on, which took forever because they were boots and I hadn’t broken them in yet. When I finally got up, I realized some members of the Bundespolizei were standing right there, and because hours of continuous travel had made me look even more like a crazed loner than usual, they sent me over that way for extra searching. Two or three guys went through all the stuff in my carry-on bag, asking me what this or that was. And then they let me go.

I waited around for hours and hours. It was January 4, the day before my classes were due to start, and it looked like I wasn’t going to miss them. Finally, after a long flight that seemed much longer because I had the worst seat on the plane (near the back, in the middle of the middle row, facing a wall), I was back in the good old USA.

There, a customs agent thought I was suspicious because of the way I handed him my passport. (Because the sleeve of my sweater had caught something, and because I was very tired, my arm moved slowly). “Are you nervous why are you nervous?” he said in a way that is calculated to make people more nervous. I didn’t take the bait, though, because I wasn’t a terrorist or anything. I explained how I had been traveling a lot, and he asked me about my studies and my travels. We talked about the bowl game, and he said he was a Penn State fan. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned the illegal TV-streaming website. Oops.

Finally, I was reunited with my family, who had been waiting patiently outside. Because all this talk about the Outback Bowl had made me hungry for Outback Steakhouse, we went there for dinner. I ate a huge burger that I threw up later. When will I learn?

When I got back to my apartment, I was too tired to unpack my bags. But I did open one, just to make sure that the most precious cargo was safe. And it was.

The Bird of Happiness was intact.

Painting the red town

It was late December, and I was staying with Kate at her parents’ place in a Russian town called Pudozh.

For (Western) Christmas, her parents had given me a box of chocolates, which itself was very kind of them to do. But that wasn’t all: They gave me a wooden figurine of a bird made by local artisans. The bird’s wings were outstretched as if in flight, and it had a little hole in its back so you could hang it from the ceiling. It was called the Bird of Happiness.

Having spent a few whole days inside, Kate and I went out, and I got to see the town. First, her dad took us to the cultural house and the music school, which shared a building not far from where we were. Kate’s father played the accordion and the balalaika and was well known in town because of his association with the cultural house.

A woman gave us a tour of the facility. In what turned out to be the beginning of a trend, the tour was given entirely in Russian, so Kate translated some of what was said. It was actually a fairly small place, and what I remember the most was seeing the classrooms filled with students’ artwork: paintings, figurines, and the like. Kate commented on how it had changed since she had taken lessons there.

Soon, the tour was over, and we were outside. And it was at night. In the interior of Russia. In December.

I’m playing to your preconceived notions, of course. People are uniformly incredulous when they find out I went to Russia for winter break, and I try to tell them that it wasn’t that bad, but no one will have any of it. Saint Petersburg was fine: I was outside for hours at a time. Pudozh, I’ll admit, was colder. At night, maybe unbearably so. But it was a town, so there were buildings and things where you could go inside and be perfectly warm. Sometimes, at Kate’s parents’, it even got too hot inside, and we had to open the windows. The owners of the building would just turn the radiators on or whatever and leave them on all winter, so that’s what you’d do if it got too hot.

Anyway, we were outside. Nearby was a grocery store, so we went inside to buy a few things. We passed by the vodka section, the sheer breadth of which would make many of my cohorts’ eyes glaze over with excitement. Elsewhere was an equally large selection of tea. Russians drink lots of tea, and I don’t know why more people aren’t aware of that. Maybe it’s because a lot of peoples around the world drink tea, and vodka is more of Russia’s own thing. Besides, it’s easier to make fun of the British for that because they can understand our taunts.

I got a couple of cans of Coke at the store. You can take Jordon out of America, but you can’t take America out of Jordon. Actually, it’s funny. I never have as huge of a craving for a hamburger as I do when I’m in a foreign country bereft of ham-, cheese- and all other burgers. But really, I looked at the can and was able to read that one of the first ingredients was sugar, so naturally, I wanted to check it out.

Then we were back outside. An electronic sign in a store window said it was -21 ºC, or -6 ºF. A large tree was decorated with colored lights for New Year’s Day, which was only a few days away. My camera couldn’t handle the cold, and I couldn’t blame it.

For dinner we went to a cafe that was located in the local hotel, so I guess it was mostly for whatever tourists might be there. The cafe was called White Nights, referring to the northern summer days that last so long that it actually stops getting dark for a while. I had some coffee to warm myself up. Kate and I tried each other’s food. On a wall near our table was a colorful photograph of some tropical island beach, which must have been put up by someone with a sense of humor.

The next day, we took a taxi to the city museum on Karl Marx Street. We had a tour guide take us through the museum. Again, I only was only able to receive the gist of what was being said, but I could see the artifacts. It started with the ancient history of the Pudozh area and progressed to tsarist days with traditional farm equipment and clothing. There were a couple of rooms dedicated to World War II, with military jackets, something that looked like an air raid siren, and newspaper headlines from pivotal days during the war.

In the museum’s guestbook, I wrote a brief message in English, which nobody could probably read, but I thought it would be a nice gesture. In my haste the only actual Russian I was able to write was “США” so they would know where I was from.

After the museum, Kate’s dad came to drive us and a tour guide around the city. At one of the first stops, we got out, and I saw a pack of Soyuz-Apollo brand cigarettes on the ground. I had never heard of the brand, and I was amused by the name. It probably caught my eye because “Apollo” was actually written in the Latin alphabet while everything else was Cyrillic. It must be odd seeing two different alphabets everywhere, especially on the Internet, where most URLs are (probably) still in an alphabet that’s foreign to many people. In some advertisement somewhere I saw a URL ending in “.ру”, which I quickly realized was a Russian translation of “.ru”, as in “Русский” (Russian).

We walked to the war memorial, which had the names of the local dead written out, and even a few graves. Then we went to one of the old Orthodox churches, which was being renovated for future use. At first it seemed totally abandoned inside, but then I noticed that two men were up on some scaffolding, doing some work near the ceiling. Kate, or maybe the tour guide, told them that I was an American, so one of the guys told me to say hi to Obama for him. Outside the church was a tiny cemetery covered with a thick layer of snow.

The following day was December 30. Kate had to make a routine visit to the local hospital. The building was crowded and looked like it was falling apart. It wasn’t until we were seated outside the doctor’s office that I realized that this was probably the absolute worst place I could possibly be as a warm-blooded foreign tourist who hadn’t gotten any recommended vaccinations. I became worried. I reduced my breathing to shallow breaths as if that would help at all. There really was nothing I could do. Needless to say, I ended up fine, but I wouldn’t put myself in that situation again.

Next we went to Kate’s school. Even though I was in another country where I didn’t speak the language, the heady feeling of wandering around a school during a school day transcends international boundaries.

Kate wanted to meet her English teacher, so we made our way to the English classroom. It was decorated with New Year decorations and informational posters about the UK and the English alphabet. Kate had told me that I’d be speaking to the class, but there were no students there. It was the last day of school, and they had been let out early. So just the teacher was there. It was good to talk to another English speaker.

I had brought a few photos of my American life, which I showed her. I mentioned how my family had recently moved, and she asked if it was common for American families to move. Other than that, she didn’t seem particularly interested in my pictures or me, but was fascinated by the hundreds of photos from Kates’ trips to the US. We must have been there for a couple of hours. It made sense, though. They already knew each other well and could chat in their own native tongue.

Later, we had dinner at another restaurant that was part of a hotel. In case you’re wondering, we got there (and to a lot of the other places) by taxi. It was pretty cool that we could get around so easily and cheaply; it’s not a service I would expect a small town to have, but there you go.

The next day was December 31, a big day in Russia.

It’s unfortunately been a long time since all of this happened, so this post is probably full of errors that Kate can point out. I’ll be glad to fix them as soon as I can.