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 rounded up everyone I knew who wanted to come (i.e., a couple of people), and we went. Well, first we had a brief board game night at Mark’s place, and then we set out for dinner and then went to the show after that. It was pretty cool to be handed a free book along with our ticket, although the book wasn’t particularly interesting. I mean, I guess you would love it if you dig philosophy (paging Peter). It basically consists of a bunch of philosophical questions, and you’re supposed to ponder the answers and fill them in yourself, or something like that. There’s also a great deal of art on every page.

So that was something to look at as we sat in our seats. I wouldn’t have bought it, but yeah, it will look good on my shelf. By the way, our seats were pretty bad. We actually were given tickets for seats in the very last row, right in front of the sound people. Apparently the people giving out the daily-deal tickets were giving them out randomly, so if things had been different, we could have gotten much better seats just by coming earlier or later. (Or we could have gotten seats in the same row, of course.)

Anyway, eventually the show started. Phoenix Jones, Seattle’s (in)famous real-life superhero, talked about the bad press he’d received lately and decided to unmask himself… as Rainn Wilson! The real Phoenix Jones came out later and shared some of his more amusing missteps in his history of fighting crime. Of course, he kept the suit on and didn’t mention his real name, although it has been revealed in the press.

There was some music, including this band that was playing its second-to-last show, some pop guitar guy (you know the type), and the singer from the Decemberists (who played some sad country songs). In between those were monologues and dialogues with Rainn Wilson and others, including Mindy Kaling (also of TV’s The Office—she read from her new book) and Anna Faris. And in between those were videos: several by this foundation that the whole show was put on for, and a couple of blooper reels from recent episodes of The Office.

There were also raffles during the show. Prizes included gift certificates to local businesses (I think) and a Dwight Schrute (Rainn Wilson’s character on TV’s The Office) bobblehead signed by Rainn Wilson. (He humorously dismissed it as a meaningless prize.) Additional lulz were had when the impromptu decision was made to raffle off Mindy Kaling’s Seattle gear (she appeared onstage looking, in Rainn Wilson’s words, as if “grunge threw up”). A few minutes later, Mindy Kaling appeared onstage again to ask the lucky winner for her BlackBerry back; it had been in her ugly sweater or something.

So, what was the point of the whole thing? Well, apparently Rainn Wilson is from Seattle, and the purpose of the show was to draw attention to this group called the Mona Foundation that promotes education for kids (mostly girls) around the world. All the proceeds from the show went to the foundation, so I paid them half as much as I could have. That’s kind of amusing.

It’s really cool to live in a big city where big-name events like this are practically in my neighborhood. I look forward to many more (and hopefully more of my friends will want to go with me next time).

And now, here’s a mesmerizing time-lapse video of the Earth as seen from the International Space Station.

The original Cinerama films were shot with three cameras side-by-side and played back with three projectors onto a huge, curved screen. It’s supposed to create the illusion that you’re in the picture. Unfortunately, very few movies were produced this way. Most of them were documentaries and other proof-of-concept films. One of the very, very few that wasn’t was How the West Was Won.

I had never been to the local Cinerama, even for a regular movie, so I figured I’d go there on Friday for the kickoff of the film festival, a screening of How the West Was Won in its original format. All I can say is wow. This film was a massive undertaking all around. Big stars, an epic story, and to see it in Cinerama is really engaging experience, even 49 years later. (Besides the lifelike picture, the film had surround sound. Not bad for a time when most records were in mono.)

Last night was a showing of 2001: A Space Odyssey, and yes, I totally went to it. I thought I would beat everyone out by showing up 40 minutes early, but there was already a huge line. I had pre-ordered a ticket, so it wasn’t a big deal, but I was still surprised by the sheer number of people who wanted to get there early.

I had only ever seen the movie from the comfort of my own home, so watching it on the big screen was different. For one thing, the hugeness of the picture and loudness of the sound made everything more dramatic. I found myself getting tense at certain moments even though I knew what was going to happen. Also, it was interesting to hear a whole audience’s reaction to the movie blow-by-blow. For example, people tend to think HAL’s dialog is funny.

The film festival continues with more showings of those and other movies, so I have some time to decide if I want to see them again. Here’s the whole schedule if you’re interested. Please tell me what amazing movie I should see and then hate me when I tell you I’ve never seen it.

Test Your Vocab in a matter of moments. Mine is estimated at 25,000 words.

By now, you’ve probably heard that Bank of America is planning on charging its customers $5 every month they make purchases with their debit cards. Wells Fargo is already implementing a similar fee against some of its customers, so it’s probably a matter of time before they roll it out to everyone. The news has provoked an exodus to credit unions, and I, too, figured it was time to make the switch.

Credit unions offer the same services as banks but with a few key differences. The goal of a bank is to make a profit for its shareholders at the expense of its customers; a credit union is a not-for-profit organization focused on helping its members, who are also its owners, so they tend to have lower fees and better interest rates. Credit unions have specific criteria for membership, usually things like living in a particular area and/or working for a particular company.

A typical credit union usually doesn’t have as many branches or ATMs as a huge bank, but most credit unions across the US offer services and free ATM access to each other’s members. And they’re insured by the NCUA, a federal agency that offers the same protection that the FDIC does for bank accounts, or by equivalent agencies at the state level.

These things I learned as I was doing my homework. Find a Credit Union was also a big help; it lists the closest credit unions to your address and the membership criteria for each. Of the eight credit unions that have branches within a mile of me, I’m eligible to join six of them, mostly by virtue of being a Washington resident. So, you see, the criteria for membership can be pretty broad.

I narrowed it down to a couple of credit unions I had heard a lot of great things about: First Tech and BECU. Their offerings were both pretty attractive, but I chose BECU since their interest rates are better for me and they’re based in the Seattle area—gotta help the local economy, right? Today, I went to the nearest BECU branch and deposited the minimum amount they require for membership: $5. In unceremoniously producing a $5 bill from my wallet, I declared my independence from thieving banks.

Well, sort of. Although I’m going to close my accounts with Wells Fargo, I have a credit card with Bank of America, and I like it. There’s no annual fee, and I get 1% cash back. So I’ll probably keep that until they screw me over personally or until I can get a better deal with my new credit union or somewhere else. (Actually, now that I look at it, BECU’s credit card seems pretty good, but I’d have to research some more.)

Moral: You should probably join a credit union if you haven’t already.

Irrelevant link: Snapshots from the set of Back to the Future.

I’d lived in Florida my whole life—only 22 years, but still. One thing I’ve noticed is that when looking at a map of the United States, my eyes instinctively drift to the lower-right-hand corner. Now, when I watch the news forecast on TV, they show this corner of the country that, by itself, looks pretty alien to me. It’ll take me a while to get used to that.

Less off-putting but still noticeable are the little things that set the West Coast apart from the world I as I know it.

First of all, mayonnaise. I’d always seen on the label of Hellman’s mayonnaise that Hellman’s is known as Best Foods west of the Rockies, but dang if it isn’t weird to see this “Best Foods” mayo on the shelf where Hellman’s ought to be. And one thing I didn’t know before I got here that Arnold bread is called Oroweat. Yes, making sandwiches is a different experience here on the West Coast.

The media is also different out here. Growing up at the very edge of the Miami media market, I watched CBS 4, NBC 6, and Local 10, and I listened to Majic 102.7. Here, I watch KOMO, KING, and KIRO, and I listen to KEXP. I guess call signs that start with “K” lend themselves to catchier names. Decide for yourself: the Miami stations I mentioned are WFOR, WTVJ, WPLG, and WMXJ. (Okay, I don’t actually listen to KEXP very much.)

I can tackle any of the Indian place names in Florida: Okeechobee, Loxahatchee, and… well, there aren’t many others. Here, there are some crazy names that I’m having more trouble with: Snohomish, Sammamish, Duwamish, Suquamish, Issaquah, Snoqualmie, Puyallup (prononuced “Pyuallup”), Sequim (pronounced “Squim”??). Those are just the ones I can think of off the top of my head.

It’s weird to see mountains everywhere. I still can’t get used to that. People hike a lot, and apparently they go skiing in the winter (or even in the summer, if it snows enough in the winter). Oh, and according to the news, people are always falling off cliffs and getting lost in the woods and stuff like that. No such things happen in Florida.

The Northwest is more sparsely populated than the Southeast. As a consequence (I think), people’s world is a little larger here. People don’t think much of going to California, even though going a similar distance up the East Coast would be a pretty big deal (to me). And a lot of the time on the news, they’ll talk about things going on in Oregon. That would be like if I were watching the news in Miami and they covered news in Orlando or Atlanta. It just doesn’t happen. They were like foreign countries to me when I was growing up.

Things are different here, but it’s not necessarily bad. For example, at least here in Seattle, Tim’s Cascade potato chips are widely available. They seem to be a local thing, and they are delicious. I’ve already sent a few bags to my family, and they agree!

Speaking of my family, I’m taking an extra-long Labor Day weekend—my first vacation as a working man—to visit them in Florida. I’m leaving tomorrow, and I probably won’t be posting while I’m there, but you can always follow me on Twitter if you’re into that sort of thing.

So, is the West Coast really the best coast? I don’t know; I was just trolling so you would read this. But you’re welcome to discuss the matter and offer your opinions here. I’d also be interested in hearing from people who grew up in the West Coast and then moved east (if any such people exist).

Here are a few anecdotes about kids growing up with today’s technology: Born Digital. It’s kind of frightening to think that small children mistake pieces of paper for iPads, but I’m sure adults had the same concerns about the first kids to grow up in front of the TV.

Ahem. Anyway, the summer event that every Seattleite looks forward to is Seafair. Seafair is actually a series of events, including a parade and some boat races and stuff. There may be more, but that’s all I’ve heard about.

Well, I didn’t just hear about the parade… I was there to see it. It went down my street on July 30. Yes, that makes two parades down my street in little more than a month. This parade was different from the Pride Parade in that it was in the evening and seemed to be a bigger production (although it was shorter). Also, Drew Carey was the Grand Marshal for some reason. (I actually met him in 2005. If you remember that, you’ve been reading this blog since at least 2005!)

The following weekend was the boat thing, and everyone was super pumped about the Blue Angels doing a show as part of that. (It was actually pretty funny to see how excited everyone was.) They had been practicing near my work for a few days, and then I snagged a couple of pictures of them flying past my apartment after putting on their show. I didn’t see any of the day’s festivities in person, but I watched them on TV.

That’s not all I’ve been up to; I’ve been doing more to get involved in my neighborhood, Belltown. I can’t remember where I first heard about Belltown Citizens on Patrol, but I’ve been following them on Facebook, and yesterday they posted an announcement saying that they’d be going out for a walk that evening. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I figured it would be a good way to become more familiar with the neighborhood and help make it a little nicer.

It turned out that it was mostly people my parents’ age and older who were taking part; there were about 15 of us in all. We put on bright yellow vests and walked around the neighborhood, looking for signs of crime and vandalism. Nobody saw anything, though, so it was more of a goodwill thing. You’re supposed to greet everyone you see, and plenty of people wanted to talk to us. We also had a videographer and someone from the Seattle P-I in tow.

Also, some superheroes accompanied us. They were led by a masked man who goes by the name of Phoenix Jones. (Here’s a recent article about him and his fellow superheroes.) They also patrol the streets for crime, so they figured they could come and help. After our walk, which only lasted an hour, Phoenix recorded a video for his fans with all of us standing in the background. (Evidently, he disguises his identity online by typing in all caps.)

The Citizens on Patrol have their walks every week, so it might become a routine for me. If only I could get people my own age to come along…

For the nerds: Cool but obscure Unix tools. (Via waxy.org)

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“).

I don’t know if I’m just missing something obvious, but there seems to be no easy way to find out which ISPs serve your area. (The National Broadband Map website was inaccessible while I was doing my research.) Based on the information I was able to cobble together, Comcast and Qwest (which I guess is becoming CenturyLink) were the two main choices.

Comcast was the ISP at my temporary apartment, and their service wasn’t terrible, but one time I was having a hard time sending about 4 GiB of my photos and videos to Kate by BitTorrent. Turns out Comcast prevents seeding of torrents whether the content is authorized by the copyright holder or not. That, along with the many, many bad things I’ve heard about them over the years (maybe they were blocking the National Broadband Map too…), drove me into the arms of Qwest.

Well, I won’t say I’m in love with Qwest, but their service has been consistently good. My download speed is nominally 12 Mbps but actually around 10.2 Mbps (exactly as expected—the fine print says that their service may be up to 15% slower than advertised). The upload speed is 768 Kbps, which I guess is relatively slow, but it’s been fine so far.

I’m not known for watching a lot of TV. If I had gone with Comcast, I might have gotten basic cable. But Qwest’s TV offerings consist of reselling DirecTV packages, and I opine that satellite TV blows, so I decided to get an antenna. At first I thought I was being cool and/or subversive by going the old-fashioned route, but I guess it’s more common than I thought. I still think it’s kind of cool, though.

I have this old TV that used to belong to my roommate, so I needed a digital-to-analog converter box. My dad happened to have one unopened in the original box, so he sent it to me. It’s made by Coby, which totally isn’t a rip-off of Sony. The thing works great, though. As for the antenna, I had to do a fair amount of research. Based on my situation—I’m in a high-rise in the middle of a city, with broadcast towers nearby but in different directions—I chose an omnidirectional, unamplified, indoor antenna.

Although it took a bit of searching, they do exist. It turns out that none other than RCA has a whole line of omnidirectional indoor antennas, so it was just a matter of picking out the best unamplified one. That turned out to be the ANT1600, which I ordered from Amazon (full disclosure: I work for Amazon [although the opinions expressed here are mine alone {and I kind of just wanted to brag about it (sorry)}]). Scroll down a bit on the Amazon page, and you’ll see a matrix of features for the whole product line.

Turns out I get a total of 26 channels over the air. Well, actually, 26 subchannels from 10 distinct stations. I’ll just call them channels because they’re all pretty distinct from one another. For example, the local ABC station broadcasts its regular ABC stuff on channel 4.1 and another whole channel called This TV on 4.2. I’m counting them as two here.

Minus the foreign-language, religious, infomercial-only, and duplicate channels (all of which I’ve set my converter box to exclude), I get 14 channels. They include affiliates of ABC, NBC, CBS, PBS, the CW, and Fox, as well as those stations’ secondary feeds (such as This TV) that play old movies, classic TV shows, weather forecasts, and obscure sports. Not bad, considering I only paid $34 one time for the antenna.

The antenna has a discreet, flat design that makes it easy to reorient. Despite the manufacturer’s claims, I do have to move it to get reception of some channels that are farther away or blocked by buildings, but not by too much. I have a direct line of sight to seven of the channels, and I believe I’ve found the sweet spot for getting six others. (Thirteen out of fourteen ain’t bad, especially when the fourteenth is the CW.) All of the broadcast towers are 1-2 miles away from me, except for that of KCPQ (Fox), which is 22 miles away.

So, what’s the effect of all this? I watch a lot more TV than I used to, which is to say, I watch some TV. I guess I want to get my money’s worth from my antenna. And besides, I don’t watch totally vapid stuff. I like Jeopardy!, some of the old movies, and PBS’s history and travel shows. I also watch the local news quite a bit. I’ve found it’s a good way to get acquainted with the area and to find out how to pronounce some of these crazy place names. (Snohomish? Issaquah? Puyallup?)

Speaking of which, today’s link: “If you watch Jeopardy backwards, it’s a show about three people paying alot [sic] of money to get bad answers on [sic] their stupid questions.”

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.

A few days later, some copies of this flyer appeared next to the existing ones:

I thought this was just about the funniest thing I’d ever seen. But one of my Chinese roommates (I have four of them) failed to understand the motivation for it, not to mention the cultural reference. (“‘Just call Jaffer’? Who is Jaffer?”)

The next day, the parody flyers were gone. Peatree, meanwhile, remains at large.

Sounds from Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs are sampled to form an impossibly beautiful track: “Wishery.” (Via waxy.org)