likes and maybes

I have lived in California for long enough now that I can find things I like about this place. It took nearly four years, but I got there.

I have always loved (even when I hated just about everything else here) late afternoon. The setting sun gives everything a golden quality and tone. Colors are brighter, the sky is bluer, and it seems like the best of California is crammed into the two hours before sunset. As we also live in the shadow of some rather large hills, the sky stays light long after the sun has retreated down the rambling tree-covered slopes on it's way to the ocean. When that happens, trees and buildings seem to be lit from within; the reflection of the sky throwing luminous, pearl-like light down to the earth, creating not-shadows--those slightly darker smudges you see only at dawn and dusk.

And also, like Christine says, parts of 280 (I have not lived here long enough to call the major highways and freeways THE 280, or THE 101, like they are the only roads of importance anywhere in this world) are beautiful in the spring.

The little cave that leads to the river flowing into the ocean on Seabright Beach is beautiful, even if some of that beauty is due to the proliferation of seaweed growing on the old (really old, thank goodness) sewer lines from Santa Cruz that lead to the ocean.

I like the coolness of the morning here, since it seems like the air is fresher at the beginning of the day. With so many people living here, the air at the end of the day and into the night seems tired from brushing over so many things while the sun is up.

I like Bill's Cafe. No, I love Bill's Cafe. And Ike's.

I like that Birdy's clothes are able to be worn all year long. No cold weather clothes needed here, saving us some dough.

I like seeing the hills on either side of the valley and knowing the ocean is just over there. Living here made me realize that for me, hills and mountains are home more than just about anything else. Except maybe farmland.

I like that the trees have green leaves for eight months out of the year.

I like that we have farmer's markets all year round, and that you can buy cheese, meat, and fish there as well.

Leading up to our move to California, I was worried. About our marriage, or the distance from friends and family. This was a new place, and unlike everywhere else I had lived. I had these ideas of "blooming where I'm planted," since we had no idea where we were going to live leading up to the job offer that came quite a long time after the interviews were over. And while I tried to talk myself into enjoying where we lived, I failed at it pretty miserably.

Spectacularly, really.

Several times a day I thought to myself, "if I just got in the car and drove, I'd be home in 13 hours." Home had regressed to where my parents lived, not where we had lived in Pullman or where we were living now. I was miserable, and took it out on The Hoosband. My worries about the health of our marriage were proving to be valid. I hated living here, away from everyone and knowing nobody but Ben, a friend and co-worker from our last jobs at RSU. But thank God for Ben--having him here gave us something to do on the weekends and someone to talk to.

I didn't anticipate that moving from a rural town to the Bay Area would be very much like moving to a different country. People were so different here, and there were stores and restaurants and freeways and it was so overwhelming on so many levels. Every time I left the house, I would see no one I knew or recognized. It was never quiet; people were everywhere. The women dressed differently here, and I didn't fit in with both my clothes and the way I looked. We didn't know anyone with kids Birdy's age, or with kids at all, really.

When I did find someone to be a friend, I had so much need in me I believe I overwhelmed her. I knew I was doing it, but I couldn't stop. I needed someone to talk to that would answer back in complete sentences (thanks for being a baby, Birdy), who I could talk about my feelings without making them feel responsible for them (the Hoosband), and who also had a small child and didn't have time to shower every day either.

It has taken nearly four years, but I have a few friends here and a I have a job that at times may be annoying, it at least makes me annoyed at things I can walk away from at the end of the day. I still don't love it here, but I tolerate it, which is saying something considering where I started. I'm thankful also that I was miserable when Birdy was so young, since now she'd definitely notice, and as a parent you are supposed to a leader to your young children and not lean on them.

Wherever we go next, whenever we get there, I'm hoping that I'll have a better attitude and be more prepared with my emotional health. Maybe next time, I'll be ready for the change--really ready. And maybe I'll be less like a standoffish Seattleite and stop looking at people like they have three heads when they start to talk to me at the grocery store. And maybe I'll seek out a community instead of waiting for one to come to me. And maybe we'll move back to Washington, where people are normal and it rains all the time and Birdy can ride a bus to school. And maybe I'll make some good friends, but live close to the ones I already have.

Maybe.

december, you sly dog

In case you are wondering? It's January.

Of 2012. What kind of a number is that? It's like 4 a.m., the made up time that doesn't really exist. It also seems like such a big number, and makes me realize I'm turning 29 for the first time this October.

Five years ago, I had been married for nearly a year and a half and was in grad school. Also, getting progressively chubbier (still not really fat at that time).

Ten years ago, I was a high school senior getting ready for a civics competition and thinking I was fat (I wasn't).

Fifteen years ago, I was in seventh grade. It was predictably horrible, and I thought I was fat.

Where did that time go, and most importantly, what happened to time since the middle of November? Did Thanksgiving actually happen, or are my memories just me in a Peanuts special? I remember popcorn and jellybeans, but I'm sure turkey was in there somewhere.

I remember when we were living with my grandparents and I was 10 and the week between Christmas and New Year's was the longest week of my life to date. It took forever for something exciting to come, and New Year's wasn't even all that exciting for a 10 year-old. My brother and I did what we could to kill each other to help pass the time, but our plans were foiled every time by our mother and grandmother.

I'll take time off of blaming my mother for everything that happened to me then and blame her for poofing December away from me. What did you do to December, mom? WHAT DID YOU DO?

But really, it seems like time has flown by so quickly and I can't figure out where it went. We had a great Christmas, and a great Advent season as well. Having a child around who actually understands what is going to happen on December 25th puts joyful anticipation on whole new level. It's been one of the best seasons of Advent I've had, and I didn't even go to church at all.

I know, I know. I need to work on that.

There are many exciting things that are happening this year, and I hope that time doesn't go by so quickly I can't remember them or that I can't remember my mom stealing the time from me (I haven't forgotten your hoo-doo and the taking of this past December yet Beth). This year I want to try to live more intentionally and to focus more on what is happening right now. I miss so much by going through the days in a tired, hazy blur. 2012 will hopefully be full of good memories fueled by bracing cups of coffee that I'll be able to reminisce about far into 2013.

And my mom is a lovely women who isn't a time thief, in case she's reading this.

running to the hills

When I get interested in something, I really get interested. And the first thing I do, after Wikipedia-ing it to death, is go to the library and check out way too many books on the subject. Then, I proceed to think about it all the time and obsess about it in general. Recent topics have included Appalachia, Amsterdam and earthquake preparedness.

In the last month or so, I've been obsessing about survival. I mean, when the world ends and junk, we're going to have to go to the hills. And I'm totally going to be prepared. Justin, a friend down here who actually COULD survive in the hills if need be, assured me that when the time comes to go to the hills, I'll be ready. But I want to be the ready-est, if you know what I mean.

I remember reading My Side of the Mountain when I was in 2nd or 3rd grade and being amazed that a kid could just run away and live in the mountains. I re-read this book in college and found it still interesting, but it was a bit of wake-up call. I know no practical skills that would help me stay alive. I can write papers. I can find information. I can't tell you what plants to eat, or how to grow my own food. Or build a house. Or anything along those lines.

Living in an area that is prone to earthquakes coupled with my worrywart tendencies have created a perfect storm of paranoia surrounding disasters and survival. Christine, Justin's wife, is more than ready to join me in the paranoia, and we've compiled large earthquake kits and worked out a plan to get us together at the university if something should happen. Not that it will. Hopefully. Anyway.

Luckily, my best good friend Brianna humors me, and even checked out books on survival as well; in my mind, it was so that we could compare trapping tactics and sod-house building, but I really know it's because she thinks I'm ridiculous (which I fully admit I am). She also, to further demonstrate her awesome-ness, got me this for my birthday. We're going in the spring in the Santa Cruz mountains, and it's going to be a great story to tell people later on. Plus I'll learn how to make a fire! And find things to eat! And stuff! Junk!

So, when the time comes to go to the hills, you can come with me. Unless you become a zombie, and then I'm going to ask you to forget that I mentioned going to the hills and stay in the abandoned cities, if you please.

jelly belly

This last weekend while my parents and brother visited, we made the pilgrimmage to the Jelly Belly factory. And internets, it was pretty cool. We went on the free tour, which allowed us to spend our money elsewhere in their factory store. Needless to say, many beans were purchased, and many beans were consumed. Yummy.

However.

I think I may have overdosed on the candy beans since last Friday. I have a headache that I believe is from the sugar, and is threatening to derail any progress the 30 Day Shred has made. Boo.

 

a smattering of newsiness

First, I apologize for the infrequency of updates. I have no real excuse except that it doesn't feel like anything that is happening is worth writing about, and second I am so tired recently that I'm sleeping if I don't have to do anything pressing. I know, I know. Lame. I admit it. So here is a little about what we have been up to recentlyish.


I put a photo of Birdy rocking out to Guitar Hero when my parents were visiting in October, and my best good friend Brianna made an acutal poster of it, which is cool.

She's just so famous! And cute. Soooooo cute.

We have parents coming to visit soon--Brandon's this Saturday and mine next month. I'm looking forward to seeing them and spending time with them again.

I don't feel like I'm home yet here, and I don't know why. It seems to be taking a lot longer than I thought it would be. It's beautiful and the people are nice and Brandon and Birdy are here. But...but. But it still isn't what I think of when I think of home. Maybe it would be better if our extended family were here, and maybe it will be better in a few months. I just wish it felt that way now, especially because it's Christmas.

One of the perks of this university is that they have a cleaning crew come in twice a year to shampoo carpets and clean the bathrooms and kitchens. For that, I love them. And our carpet needs it. I fear waking up in the morning to bare floors due to carpet mutiny. I'm blaming their current state on Birdy. It's always Birdy's fault because she can't say otherwise yet. :-) The cleaning crew is coming in on Friday, right in time for Brandon's parents to come and visit.

Holiday baking and eating has made it's home here, and boy am I feeling it. Luckily, we're joining the local YMCA and I'll be able to work out again since they have child care, and there is a Masters swimming program, so I can swim too.

What about you all? What is happening in your lives? We miss you tons down here!

fun at natural bridges state beach

walkabouts

To begin, on the news right now, a man named Raccoon is being interviewed. He is very clearly homosexual. He has a coon skin cap, a festive scarf, and large glasses. Toto, I'm not in Eastern Washington anymore.

Secondly, I've become a bit of a walker.

It all started a few weeks ago when Nicole (who is my first peep here) and I took an innocent walk to the park near by. Then we walked to the rose garden. Then we walked to the library. Then we walked to an awesome bakery. The bakery trip was today, and it was awesome. It's called Greenlee's, and seems to be a landmark here in San Jose. I had a chorizo breakfast burrito, and it was so good I nearly saw Jesus and/or a majestic unicorn. It was faint vision due to my eyes rolling back into my head, so it was hard to be sure. But be sure that if you come and visit, I'm taking you.

Nicole also has a daughter, who is just the bee's knees. She's just a bitty baby--5 months old. Birdy is becoming a big fan of her too, which has proven to be adorable. Yesterday, Birdy gave Nicole's baby a hug and a kiss. Adorable.

I do have some new photos to put up, I just have to get them off the camera. As many of us know, that camera might as well be on the moon with the frequency with which photos are transferred to my computer, so be patient grasshoppers.

tales from the dmv

Last night, for the first time in a long time, I set my alarm. Today was a big day: I was going to get my license.

I'd been studying the driver's guide and stressing about the test. It was like have a full on teenage experience and that I was 17 and getting ready to get my license (yes, I said 17. Get off my back.)...I felt like I was going to start getting zits and being super self concious all over again. Boo.

Luckily, my buddy Ben came with. We were both nervous. We left bright and early at 7:30 and went to the Santa Clara DMV, which opened at 8. We pulled in to the parking lot at 7:50.

And.

There was a line around the building--about 50-60 people were in line already. Ben looked at me and said, "do over?" I agreed, and we planned on getting the license stuff taken care of tomorrow...and showing up much, much, much eariler. On a whim, we went over the the San Jose DMV, which wasn't too far away. Surprisingly, it didn't seem all the busy. We went in and were sitting in these hard plastic chairs, super nervous and worrying we would have to come back anyway because were were dorks and failed the test.

For the written test here, you can only miss 5 if you are getting your first California license. If you are getting it RENEWED, you have to take it again, and you can only miss THREE. I'm not looking forward to that AT ALL. I took the test (which is actually on paper. Which really was surprising. Which made me miss Washington.), and was stumped on few of the questions. Others, however, were like "please don't be a douche while you drive. This includes: road rage, tailgating, passing, driving with your high beams on, wearing your seatbelts, and so much more."

We both passed the test (thank goodness). Ben's car checked out fine, and we didn't have to pay a ton of money for late fees, which I was worried about. I had been here for more than 10 days, and Ben had been here...for a while.

Now, I get to sit and wait for my brand spankin' new license to come in the mail. I am bummed I'm no longer a resident of Washington, though. Don't forget me Washington! I still love you best!

a good day

Today was a good day. Today, I conquered pizza. Pizza now stands before me, shivering and alone. I own pizza.

It didn't start out that way. I used the recipe for dough and sauce from my favorite cookbook, which hasn't let me down yet. I made the dough in my food processor (the one that was my grandma's...so it's up in years), which would have been great, except for the fact that the dough was threatening to kill my beloved little appliance. I thought "hey, it looks like it's done. I'll take this opportunity to take it out of the food processor and start kneading. Brandon and Birdy will be so impressed with my mad yeast dough kneading skillz when they come back from their walk."

However. The dough was, um, a little wet. A little sticky. And I was a prisoner to sticky dough hands, which rival freezing cold meatball-rolling hands (if you've ever rolled a six month supply of meatballs, let me know. We'll form a club). I couldn't really touch anything without it getting horribly sticky and doughy. And that stuff doesn't clean well. I promise you that.

Long story short, Brandon and Birdy make it home in time to plug in my mixer (you never fail me, Old Red) and start this kneading thing for real. I kneaded by hand forever after the mixer, and thought I had ruined the dough.

BUT I HAD NOT!

The pizza and homemade sauce were great. This photo is before it went into the oven.


















This is after a raging hot 500 degree oven.



















This is after Birdy, Ben, Brandon and me attacked it.

Birdy was so kind as to provide us with a show after dinner. She got down and busy to Beyonce's Put a Ring on It. Hilarious. I highly recommend checking out the clip of her wicked dance moves.

orientation, part one

This is where we live.

This is the sidewalk across the street from where we live. Those are olives.

This is the olive tree across the street from where we live.

This is Birdy, wondering what we are doing when it's nap time and clearly time to go inside and find a bed.

These are the figs that live in the fig tree across the street from where we live.

This is one of the three domes on the old observatory (now an archeology lab) across the street from where we live next to the fig and olive trees.

farmer's market

On Saturday, Ben, Birdy and myself went to the farmer's market a few streets over from the University. It was fairly small, but there was a lot of good stuff there. I got some spinach (for free!), potatoes, these apricot hybrid things that are delish, green onions, three samosas, and these tiny, incredibly tasty grapes (see photo for proof of tiny-ness--my hands are small, so keep that in mind too). AND, it was all for less than $10. Booyah.

With this, we've:

dad chicken caesar salad

grilled potatoes with our bbq

apricot thingies and grapes for snacks for several days

eaten the samosas

dreamt about next Saturday and eating more samosas

To be honest, the samosas didn't last more than an hour after they were purchased. There was a tiny Indian woman at the market selling naan, curries, samosas and other tasty things. She kept giving Ben samples of everything she was selling...he nearly got a full meal out of it. We both bought the samosas, which are fried dumplings filled with potatoes, peas, spices, and deliciousness. Birdy also loved them, which meant less for me.

I saved one for when we got home, and proceeded to eat it and watch Bend it Like Beckham, a movie about an Indian girl from England who plays soccer and ends up at Santa Clara. It was only fitting.

ready or not

The bells are ringing at the mission church calling people to Mass right now.

Mass begins at 12:05 each day, and I'm thinking of attending. I'm not Catholic. My mother once was, and my best good friend Brianna now is. I don't have plans for becoming Catholic. However, the idea of being with a group of people coming together for the same purpose really appeals to me right now.

Anyway.

My parents just left for the 13 hour drive home, Birdy is asleep and The Hoosband is at work. Or getting the car smog checked. Or something. Anyway, I'm alone in the apartment. I am really proud of myself--instead of wallowing in sadness and crying in bed, I began cleaning and putting our stuff away and getting our house closer towards being our home. As I was silently crying and wiping the table off, I realized that with that action--recognizing my sadness but deciding to do something productive instead of something indulgent--I fully became an adult. And now, more than any other time, I'm ready for that. I don't have family near by, or friends here. I have me. I have my little family. I'm going to be Ma (who never seemed to cry in the Little House books, but I'm sure that she did from time to time. Being a pioneer is hard). I'm going to take care of me and my little family. And I'm actually looking forward to that.


This last week has been a lot of fun and a lot of work. We've been to Ikea (YESSSSSS!!) and bought two items of furniture from the as-is section (oh sweet sweet as-is section--your small imperfections and hardware issues are no match for my father) along with some plants, some storage items, a pan of cinnamon rolls, a pot holder (the pot lids go on the wall now!) and a picture frame. When I say "we've bought," I mean my parents did. Those two are my favorites. :-)

Yesterday was our wedding anniversary, and my parents, Hoosband, and Birdy and I went to the Monteray Bay Aquarium, Cannery Row (STEINBECK HEAVEN), and had a very nice and quite fancy dinner on the way home.


The Monteray Bay Aquarium is amazing--if you have the chance to go, it's worth it, even with adult prices being $30. The funny story about that is that we thought the prices were about $17 according to our guidebook. The book was, upon further inspection, published in 2003. We discovered this after we had driven an hour to oogle at the fishies, so we were kind of locked in to our choice. The price was made totally worth it when Birdy walked into the Outer Bay exhibit. You come in to a circular room, with a giant round aquarium above you. There is a school of herring swimming around the ceiling. Birdy, who doesn't have a lot of words yet, walked in and said, quite clearly, "oh, wow!" It was wicked sweet. The picture here doesn't do the room justice, but gives you an idea of what it looked like. The other nice thing about the aquarium was that many of the tanks went all the way down to the floor, so little kids like Birdy could still see the fish.

Back to the making the house a home thing--I was working on our kitchen and noticed that the only people we have pictures of on the fridge are the Cory family on our wedding day, The Hoosband's grandma and her husband, and wee Harrison. We love us some Cory family, but we have other friends we'd like to see every time we go in to the kitchen. Thus, I have a boon to ask of you, dear reader. Would you be able to mail us a photo of you and yours? We are far away from home and your smiling faces would make us feel closer. If you are interested, sent me an email at heather[underscore]brackett[at]hotmail[dot]com and I'll send you our address. Please replace the items in the brackets with the actual punctuation.

More to come, complete with pictures, in the following week.