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)

The first was called the Northwest Chocolate Festival. There were lots of booths by small, local candy companies. Some were offering free samples, and others had samples out that they were selling, but they didn’t want you to know that until you already had your heart set on eating some of them. ($2 for a piece of chocolate? Really?)

What I found more interesting were the booths and areas tangentially related to chocolate. One booth was staffed by an organization that was working to create some sort of clean-burning ovens in third-world countries. Another belonged to a local organization that teaches people how to do gardening and stuff in their backyard (or on their balcony—they don’t discriminate).

There was also the adult room. When I went in, someone was painting a woman’s body with what I guess was chocolate. There was also alcohol being served (I didn’t see if it was chocolate alcohol), and massages being offered (one at a time, unfortunately). Later, some person was telling an enraptured audience how to make use of food when flirting. I thought about getting a massage there at the seemingly reasonable rate of $1 per minute, but some old guy beat me to it. I still have never gotten a massage.

Next, I decided to go to CroatiaFest. My last name is Croatian, and I don’t really know a lot about my dad’s side of the family, even after going to Croatia and meeting some of my relatives. I don’t think I had even heard of Croatia until I found out some of my forebears came from there, and I doubt many other Americans have heard of it either. But given the history of the Balkans, that’s probably a good thing. Everyone knows about Kosovo, but I wouldn’t want to live there.

Anyway, I wasn’t expecting much, but I was amazed. I had come across a massive gathering of Croatian-Americans in progress. The place was poppin’. There was a band playing what I assume were traditional Croatian tunes on traditional Croatian instruments. People were selling what I figured were Croatian groceries and were cooking what I surmised was Croatian food. I really don’t know anything about Croatia.

I became a bit emotional: these were my people. Sure, it’s a patriarchal notion and I’m mostly non-Croatian, but that’s just how I felt. And at the same time, I felt like adopted people probably do when, in adulthood, they finally meet their biological parents: that my curiosity was whetted but that I could never really fit in with this, one of my parent cultures. I could only go back to business as usual in the culture in which I was raised, in what’s normal.

I did eat some of the unreasonably expensive food, and I took a flier about Adriatic cruises (which seemed like a good idea until I looked at the prices). I would like to go back to Croatia, if only to say… well, I don’t know. I just want to go back and learn more.

Fun facts about the late Steve Jobs: He always drove a car without license plates, and he loved parking in handicapped spaces. Find out more!

On Friday night, I went from Seattle to Eugene by bus, with an hour-long layover in Portland (where I was surprised by the pleasantly large and well-kept station). I arrived in Eugene at about 2:30 in the morning, and I called a cab company that Luke had given me the number for. It was taking a really long time for them to answer the phone, and I soon figured out why: it was 2:30 on a Friday night, prime taxi hours. But eventually, they picked up, and in a few minutes a taxi was there for me. So I made it to Luke’s place, and we chatted for about an hour. Then I went to bed. I was so tired that I almost wasn’t tired.

The next day was a typical Oregon day: the sky was solid white. Luke and I walked to the city center. At the Saturday Market, he introduced me to a guy called Frog, who showed me the array of joke books he had for sale. I bought one as a souvenir. And then, since it was already early afternoon and we hadn’t eaten anything, we went to a place called Bagel Sphere for a meal. I had a chicken salad sandwich with a bagel as the bread. It hit the spot.

After that, Luke took me for a brief hike up Skinner Butte, which overlooks Eugene. From there I got my first glimpse of the University of Oregon campus, and it was in that direction that we decided to mosey next. It was game day, so there were lots of people wearing the school colors, green and yellow. Later, off campus, Luke introduced me to a couple of his friends, and together we had dinner at a restaurant called Cornucopia. Then Luke and I headed back to his place for the night.

The following day, I got to meet Luke’s girlfriend, Carmela. Though it was already the afternoon when we went out, we felt like something breakfasty, so we went to this breakfast-type restaurant that’s supposed to have the best hangover food in town. I’ve never had a hangover, but I believe it. I had eggs, bacon, hash browns, and toast, and it was all delicious. Next, we went to a fancy but empty bar on a quiet street and drank mostly breakfast-type drinks at a table outside. Unlike the day before, it was perfectly clear and sunny, and by then, the sun was low in the sky. It was beautiful.

After that, as we approached the bus station, Luke was hungry again (maybe he didn’t eat a lot at the first restaurant, I don’t know), so we each had a slice of pizza at this pizza place. At that point, I had to get going. I thanked Luke for his hospitality and Carmela for her acquaintance. And then I got on another bus and was off.

I arrived back in Seattle after 1 AM. It was very cold, and the streets were completely empty. Everything seemed slightly alien to me, even my own apartment. But I went to sleep soon enough.

I’m glad that Luke and I aren’t so far apart anymore. Hopefully he’ll visit me in less than three to four years!

Want to pay more taxes? Uncle Sam accepts donations! The BBC has more info about “gifts to the United States Government” in case you’re interested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Having friends around all the time: what an attractive idea it is. Well, is it really? I guess it depends on the kind of person you are. Society tells us we need to go out and interact with other people if we’re to be worth anything. Maybe they don’t say it outright, but I hear it. I can’t always be like that. I need to be alone sometimes. Sometimes I just don’t want to do anything. I think that’s normal.

I’ve been told, and I guess I believe, that here in my new city, I’ll slowly accumulate a new group of friends. I can see it starting. I’ve done a few things with some guys who graduated from my program at the same time as I did. They all came here to work at Microsoft. Through them I met another guy who also graduated from the same department at the same time. He lives in my apartment complex. We see each other at least twice a week, I’d say, and do fun stuff. He’s the only person I see with any regularity. Well, there’s also my friend Mark, but it’s not quite convenient for us to meet up as often.

People have been asking me if I’ve made any friends at work. I haven’t. I mean, my co-workers are great (well, were great… I’ll have to explain that one later. Oh, screw it, I’ll explain it now. A few weeks ago, I was moved to a different team that needs the help more. All my co-workers are different, and I’m doing different stuff. My job on this team involves working with other teams for a few months at a time. It gives me a chance to get a better idea of the various things that the company does, but it doesn’t do much for my friend-making prospects.), but yeah, there’s that thing I just mentioned. I guess I’m down with the interns, but one of them has already gone back to school.

Work isn’t like school. It’s really easy to make friends in school. You and your classmates are all pretty much coming from the same place, generationally, educationally, and socioculturally speaking. Being at work, it’s like I could be a first grader and everyone else is in sixth or above. That’s what it feels like sometimes (and probably actually was in 1995). To be sure, everyone I’ve worked with has been cool (including my manager), but I wouldn’t want to risk my professional relationships by having an innocent trip to the bar turn into something that would make morning greetings awkward. Hey, It Could Happen.

So, I know some people who work for Microsoft. That’s a start. I’ve gone to a community blog meeting, and I’ve patrolled the neighborhood with old and pseudonymous people, but it’s not enough. I’ve started a mailing list at work for people who live in my neighborhood, but I don’t know what to talk about. (My “Hey, let’s go to a bar,” which I was sure would get others to come out of the woodwork, turned into “Well, okay, I don’t really know what a good place would be… Okay… Tonight? Maybe that’s too short notice… Sometime next week, maybe? Maybe not…?”) Oh yeah, and I don’t have any hobbies… I mean, I wouldn’t really want to meet anyone with the same hobbies as me.

I thought that if I lived downtown, I’d have a lot of fun because there would always be things to do. I actually knew it wouldn’t be that easy, though. I knew I was going to have to force myself to get out there before it could become a normal, fun thing, and I just hoped that that would actually be possible. What I didn’t realize, I guess, is that it’s easier to do these things if you already have a lot of friends.

Don’t think I don’t like the friends I have here. I definitely do, and without them, I’d probably be an emotional wreck or something. It’s just that I don’t yet have as many friends as I’m used to having. Maybe I need to meet my friends’ friends. Maybe I need to—(a pause as I try to gain the composure necessary to utter this word without puking)—network. I hate that word, especially when it comes to making friends, because it’s sleazy and artificial and it has the word “work” in it. Making friends should not be work, but here I am overanalyzing it. Or am I?

I guess what I’m trying to say is this: I’ve been here for three months. I have a few friends. I feel like I could use some more, but I don’t know where to find them. I guess I do have to go out and look for them, although it seems hard. I’m wondering if there’s anything I can do to make that a little easier.

I could have sworn I’ve posted this link already, but I guess not: Literally Unbelievable, a blog featuring stories from satirical news site The Onion as (mis)interpreted by dummies on Facebook. Warning: This may cause you to lose faith in humanity if you haven’t done so already.

Later in my European travels, I met Kate. Since then, she’s visited me from Russia several times, and each time, she’s had lots of tea: Russians love it too. When she first asked me to make some for her, I didn’t even know how. That’s because I didn’t know a single person who drank it, and it’s not like people make tea on TV (otherwise it would be called Tea-V or something, I’m sure). When I visited her in Russia this past winter, her tea breaks became our tea breaks as I reluctantly picked the tea that tasted the least like tea (because it wasn’t technically a tea) and actually ended up kind of liking it.

So, I was in my apartment on an unseasonably cold Saturday six or eight weeks ago when I realized I could really go for a hot drink. That’s when I remembered the tea bags that were left over from Kate’s last visit. I got out a pot in which to boil water (because I didn’t have a kettle) and a glass (because I didn’t have a mug) and made myself a cup. It tasted pretty nasty, but at least it was hot. And that made my day a little better.

A few weeks later, I was at work, and once again, I felt like having a hot drink. It came down to coffee or tea. I try to avoid putting sugar in things, and I can’t stomach coffee without sugar, so I opted for tea. And then, a few days after that, I actually had the weird sensation of wanting to drink tea. I actually started liking the taste. I never thought this could happen to me, but it did.

Since then, I’ve been drinking two to four cups of tea every day at work. It’s great if I’m cold, or if I’m looking for a quick break, or if I just need a pick-me-up (inasmuch as tea actually picks anyone up). The kitchen at work has 17 kinds of tea, but I’ve mostly gravitated toward the black teas, in particular Bigelow English Teatime, Cinnamon Stick, and Constant Comment. I’ve also bought a box of each of those for drinking at home (having run out of the tea that was left over from Kate’s visit), as well as a kettle and some mugs. At home I sometimes drink it with milk, but there isn’t any at work, so I’ve learned to do without. (I’m not sure if half-and-half would be quite the same.)

So, there I am. I drink tea now. Have any of you ever fallen into a habit so unexpectedly? I’d like to hear I’m not the only one.

In the meantime, I’ll be thinking about the next time I get to see Kate. I imagine there will be lots of tea.

And now, here are The Best Obnoxious Responses to Misspellings on Facebook. Although they claim otherwise, teenagers apparently don’t have strong feelings about Hippocrates.

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)

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)

For one of my classes, I’m writing a program that writes limericks. It references a pronunciation dictionary to find sets of rhyming words and a collection of newspaper articles (apparently from the 1950s) to put words in a random but plausible order. The program doesn’t really have a sense of meter yet. If it comes up with something that actually vaguely makes sense, it’s just a coincidence because each line is written independently of the others.

Here’s a selection:

Her polo grounds is cheap
And grand champion 4-h sheep
Last night at noon
Agreements calls soon
Only marvel at a 2-inch deep

And city fashion show at bat
The streets and miss pat
A baseball writers’
In cigaret lighters
Agree on the byer-rolnick hat

New president also could have rated
The question of dimes and waited
Because the 10-hour daily
Ex-mrs. bud daley
It appeared to end a feted

In right center and down
Like that 60,000 old towne
Katanga and beads
He avidly reads
Schools and conservative barriers around

Break the farm income is known
President eisenhower administration and aaron cohn
Grow up pops
A small shops
150,000,000 would not the phone

Here from 1951 through a wreck
The bills of texas tech
The rev. mr. werner
Mrs. h. merner
Aggies got a 17-1/2-inch neck

Bring the united states to send
A way of communist north bend
1954 but it took
The 21st and cooke
Camera in what this would lend

1956 but also admitted killing
People are having a tilling
To his hands
Before 5777 fans
Is aiding them with caramel filling

Can’t afford the main dining
Bill which actually owns and mining
A zinc mine
Is asking the fine
And 7 last year after signing

And sons and dave mills
Bill was reached the bill’s
The arithmetical sum
Was the rum
For months ending in beverly hills

Was and out a peak
Away the prospect of chic
He made the nuns
Library and submachine guns
To a whopping 8% next week

Photographs that show the value of a dollar.

A long, long time ago, there were no clouds residing in the sky as we know it today. There were, however, two Proprietary Kings of the Sky. The sky was leased to them by the federal government, who had acquired it as a result of a lawsuit against the government of Monaco, where it had once served as their vast realm.

The names of the two Kings, in order of the letters of the alphabet, were Arrogance and Stupidity. They were arrogant and stupid.

One bouncy day, the messenger, Stusut, came to the Sky Kingdom of the Sky bearing a message. His message, presented as a singing telegram, was a warning issued by the Scared Cult of the Church of the Fools on the Hill, Inc. It declared to the arrogant and stupid Kings that their contract of lease to the great sky would be interrupted if the President of the United States of A. did not approvingly approve of their charter.

Upon hearing this news, Stupidity shoutingly exclaimed, “What hath God wrought?!”

Upon hearing this exclamatory exclamation, Arrogance answered, “It’s the end of the world as we know it. And in the end, the love thou doth take is approximately equal to 3.1416.”

Confused by this bout [of] confusion, the messenger Stusut asked what they could say in reply to the Scared Cult of the Church of Fools on the Hill, Inc., begging Mr. Prez for acceptance of their Presidential charter. Because of slow communication by messenger in those days, they opted to choose to use e-mail instead.

Now in those days there was a Web site on the Web called thescaredcultofthechurchoffoolsonthehillinc.net, for the address of the .com extension was already taken. From this site, Arrogance and Stupidity sent a piece of electronic mail to the President begging him to keep them as the Proprietary Kings of the Sky. Prez had an e-mail address there, for he was a cult member of the cult.

Days passed, weeks, months, and even a few hours. Finally, there came a reply. The reply said to them that Prez would accept their rulership for another six (6) years under one condition. Arrogance and Stupidity would have to perform servile labor at the local Bucks of Star (a coffee shop, that is).

As all good Sky Kings do, they headed on foot the local Bucks of Star in their locality. Stupidity was pouring a cup of coffee when the messenger Stusut arrived, proclaiming Prez’s warning: “Should thou screw up on this job of servile labor, bad stuff will happen.” It was in listening to this message that Stupidity’s cup runneth over, resulting in a large fire. The Sky Kingdom of the Sky burnt to the ground, leaving but clouds of smoke as a misfortunate reminder. End.