Anti-Tsunami

Eastern Washington

Drove around Eastern Washington for a while. Second highest producer of wine in the US. This is probably the most rural place I’ve ever been, at least it felt this way. I drove for literally hundreds of miles without lights and gasoline pumps. I made a pitstop to see some major donors in the Tricities, which is a misnomer. There ain’t no city there. There is a mall.

Donors

The donors are a married couple in their late 80’s and 90’s and have lived in the same modest home since the 1960’s. They hadn’t had visitors in years, and in anticipation of my arrival, they posted the letter I sent in at least 3 places throughout the home and shampooed the carpets and furniture. The man — think Bob from the movie, Orange County. I arrived at 5. Originally, dinner was scheduled for 6. We didn’t eat until 8. That’s a lot of small talk, even for me.

They were the husband is in a wheelchair and can barely hear. After trying to interact with him through yelling I just started writing down topics, i.e. football and Telegraph Ave., and allowing him to speak on them. The wife is more able and is a very direct person who finds her predicament quite frustrating. When we first spoke on the phone she offered to cook me a meal. I, of course, obliged. How bad could it be? Bad. She’s 90. She made spare ribs. Here’s the easy-to-make recipe (only 2 ingredients!):

Place frozen ribs in the microwave, without completely thawing them. Serve smothered with a can of Hunts tomato sauce — make sure not to warm it up or add any spices. Serve with a decades-old twice-baked potato, which ironically, should be frozen in the center. The salad: wilted iceburg lettuce and store-brand ranch dressing. The broccoli tasted like metal. The dessert: "brownie pudding" which is basically brown tasteless goo topped with skim milk. In avoiding the meal, I told her I had high cholesterol and that my mom told me not to eat meat. She kept on apologizing and I reassured her that it was a hearty homecooked meal, which it was. Suffice it to say, my real dinner was Taco Bell 2 hours later.

They trapped me there for 4.5 hours. He was a mechanical engineer for a weapons manufacturer. They met 57 years ago at a Young Republicans meeting. We watched the O’Reilly factor. I said he was brilliant. 

Recruitment events

Whitman reminded me of a friendlier version of Macalester, hard-core. And, Central Washington was a surprisingly good event. I spoke on panels at both events, which made me feel important. The guy who organized the event at CWU was a Tulane Law drop-out. He used a lot of creative verbs. I was surprised to say the least. One old alum of CWU who was there spoke for about 20 minutes on Miers nomination and how prejudiced America is against the middle class. I had to bite my tounge to a painful extent.

Seattle

The drive to Seattle was gorgeous with fog, and mountains, and waterfalls. Mom and Basil met me in Seattle. My stepbrother lives nearby.  Mom and Basil stayed with me at my hotel. During the weekend, we went to Vancouver, which is a very cool city. The highlight of the trip was that we went to a sushi restaurant, ordered a bento box with sashimi and Basil and mom wanted it cooked. I was so embarassed. It’s like nuking ice cream. We then shopped for hours and hours and hours. That’s what they like to do. And it didn’t end until I was obviously annoyed. Then, we took a little tour of the town. Saw Stanley Park, the totem poles, and the Gaslamp district.

We tried to walk to Chinatown and were told that it was seedy. It was. The weird part is that my mom who is not usually freaked out by danger because she works in the ghetto, and has done so for many many years, was so scared! My threshold for danger has just shifted so much. I didn’t think it was weird at all. We went to Vancouver’s version of the space needle, and ate the worst Indian food ever at this cute-looking place called "Sitar." Pretty indian restaurants uniformly serve the worst food.

The next day, I stayed with my stepbrother. The family is very hippy-dippy. My step-sister (who is bright, but attends an online university) asked why I didn’t go to Yale Law. I told her it was not an option for me. And, she said, "that’s funny because I met the requirements for Yale." People are so funny! Frustrating, but funny.

They belong to a co-op and cook all organic food, including amazing whole wheat waffles. They don’t have a TV in the home. The 9 year old and her mom discuss how they make their own realities and transgender issues. My stepsister-in-law took my mom to a nudist spa. They’re an interesting addition to my family.

The 9 year old also took me on a bike ride, which I had not done since I was probably 10. It was weird how I still knew how to ride. We also took a hike through beautiful ferns.

Cara picked me up the next day. She is someone who I should have gotten to know better in law school. Very smart, friendly, self-aware. Some of the conversations reminded me of things and people I didn’t want to remember, but it was a good way for me to gauge my reaction to certain memories. She lives in a wonderful loft. She totally showed me Seattle. Fremont was a very cool area with a big statue of Lenin and and a huge troll. We spoke for probably 7 hours non-stop. The only problem was that the amount of beer I drunk necessitated that I pee about 20 times and I had to descend a ladder from the loft for this purpose everytime.

The next day, her husband Josh who is a great guy, joined us (after not sleeping). We went to Pike Place, which was the best touristy place ever, with all sorts of "Oh Brother Where Art Though" like performers.  I bought a lot of wild salmon — including the most delicious salmon jerky. I also tried beef jerky for the first time ever and disliked it even more than anticipated. I saw the original Starbucks and bought a book with a title too colorful to publish on here. Cara and I were approached by the store clerk who overheard us speaking about her intention to attend law school. Her rationale was awful - basically "just because" and that she wants to make money. We tried to dissuade her given this rationale and she was pissed at us. Don’t ask if you don’t want a real answer. Overall, I really liked Seattle, but it was not a larger, more urban version of Portland, but completely different. A little more aloof and cold. But, the coffee was excellent. Portland is more crunchy, and Seattle more punky.

Home
I went home for a few days. Again, I was caught off-guard about the extent of the quirkiness of SF inhabitants. But, I was. All I did was work and go to ACT classes. Had somewhat of a breakthrough in my singing class. Got caught singing "ahhh" while everyone else was on a hum. 10 more days and I’ll get to actually experience my apartment! YAY!

LA

I am here now. This place undeservedly gets such a bad rap. Not as conservative of a feel as people say. It’s a lot of people who look like prettier hipsters and shower. I admit it. I love it. Not as much as SF, but the weather, the rocky beaches, the bars, the attractive people, the food, this place is great. People aren’t the friendliest, but not rude either. My hotel is in Silver Lake. I found a cool local bar that I chilled at the first night. Yesterday day, I drove to Malibu and did a fair at Pepperdine (where Ken Starr is Dean). The fair was outside and we sat at tables with beach umbrellas. Not shabby. Wasn’t as religious right as I expected. Less so than UVA to be honest. Insiders told me to go to Malibu Country Mart, which is a nondescript plaza, and the playground of many stars. I spent about 2 hours there and saw William Shattner and Hulk Hogan. Awesome mix, right?! For dinner, I went to the famous Nobu sushi (of NY fame) and it was more than it was cracked up to be. Absolutely amazing. I will go back. On the way home, I had to take a significant detour due to Dubya’s motorcade. This also happened to me in San Diego. He’s following me!

I have officially learned to party alone. I used to feel awkward. Now, not at all. At night I did West Hollywood, which was awesome. Checked out the Standard Hotel. The bars here remind of my NY and South Beach more than SF. Long lines, but I didn’t pay any covers. Parking here, even in the busy districts, is easy. It’s just too much driving. I was upgraded to a Ford Explorer, which makes it more bearable. For lunch today, I meet with an alumna in Beverly Hills and eat healthy indian! It’s a nice place, so I HOPE it’s good.

Mac alumni group

Remember the situation with the Mac alumni group? I used to call them "Mac al Qaeda." They are reengaged. Last time I got a handwritten apology from Macalester’s President. Here’s an excerpt of the most recent e-mail:

Read this, from a person who has never attended an event (which have all  and who I’ve never met in person:

"Andrew, I have watched you bungle your leadership since you stepped in. Your mastery of tact and leadership allowed you to efficiently alienate many people in record time. Did you ever pause to think the lack of participation could be motivated by a disinterest in dealing with an insensitive, pompous, and rude leader"

I spoke with Cara about this. After heading the Journal and being critiqued for every move I made, by the most critical demographic out there, I cope with criticism a lot better than I used to. Even so, this tiny contingency of Macalester alumni irked me for a while. But after never seeing these people at any events, and praise by people who actually attend and organize the events, I simply don’t care. It’s amazing how you can really affect someone through planning alumni events…and how much time some people have.

Conclusion

Now, back to SF for a day, where I am staying in my old apartment, as a guest this time.  Then there’s Oregon, and DC (for Halloween). I will see Dave T., Brianne, Megan, Peta-Gaye, and Katie in D.C. so far… let me know if you would like to get together!

- See the movie Capote! So good…

- Loveline was on the radio yesterday and they kept on characterizing men who look at tranny porn as needing of psychiatric help. They analogized it to pedophilia and beastiality. Very disheartening, but most people are just totally uninformed. Some of my close friends are trans, and I can only imagine the discrimination and fallacies they face every day.

I am still travelling — really getting to know the US — galavanting from one edge of the country to the other in such a short time has given me some perspective about the varied cultures and lives within our country. It’s really quite fascinating and I am sort of enamored with the woodsy cloudy friendliness Pacific Northwest.

This morning I was on the 6 bus in San Francisco, headed down Fulton. I just love riding the bus in SF. In this way, I feel like Josh Hartnett in 40 Days and 40 Nights. I love the variety of people and the attendent unlikely interactions.

Prop

My flight to Seattle was so delayed that they put me on a Horizon Air plane.

Thus, 13 hours after getting off the Fulton bus I disembarked a 20-passenger prop plane in Pasco, Washington — one with big-fast-scary propellers. This plane had no AC and torn up leather seats. To compensate, they open the door when it gets too toasty. This is plane was the closest thing to a horse and buggy.  During flight, the plane was pitch black (as was the land below) and definitely blew with the wind.   

Pasco is in rural Eastern Washington State. Unsuprisingly, everyone on the plane was White, including a Mennonite, or someone of the sort. I know - I thought they avoided technology too. Many of the passengers knew one another. I stood out quite obviously — both in terms of my attire and my kinky hair. People were yelling out questions at me. I was offered by three people to hitch a ride to Walla Walla. They gave out free wine and microbrews during the 40-minute flight. The wing was above me. The flight attendant had a peculiar — almost Canuck — accent. She described in great detail what turbulence was. 

I sat next to a cowboy (suede hat and all) who assumed I was a fellow Conservative by the way he reacted when I told him I was recruiting at Whitman. This happens to me sometimes — that people I assume I am Conservative/Republican. I sort of like when they assume this. I feel like I’m fooling them. Once, I was at a baseball game with a client at the law firm I worked for. He assumed that I was a James Dobson (Focus on the Family) aficionado and I played it out big time, even arguing natural law with another random spectator.

I survived the flight and the first thing I did was grab a real estate guide. I was pleased to find the prices were similar to Austin.

I then rented a car. No Navigation systems in Pasco! The rental car dude was really friendly asking me all of these questions about myself. I felt very special by the way he reacted to my life — he was awed by my travels, job, the fact that I don’t have a car, how much I pay for my apartment, that I own a house I don’t live in. He upgraded my car to a Taurus.

Week in Review

Returned from Oregon to a whirlwind week in SF at work and with friends. On the Super Shuttle home, I had an overzealous Palestinian driver who wouldn’t shut up. He told me some heavy stuff about how his grandpa was murdered at a convenience store in Western Addition. I was exhausted and just wanted to get home. I couch-surfed between Rakhee’s and Andrea’s. Both were gracious hosts. Went to voice classes, worked a whole bunch, tried to catch up at work. But, definitely no repose.

Breakdowns

Two of my good friends have very high cholesterol. Another had a slight cancer scare. These things make me recognize our mortality and the fact that we’re aging. We’re not old, but we’re getting there — slowly but surely.

Physical Therapist

I starting going to a PT who started talking smack about chiropractors. I felt all defensive b/c my chiropractor is totally the reason I am going to a PT. The PT pushed some pressure points and gave me some exercises.

House Closing

I didn’t know how complicated buying a house was in terms of paperwork, especially given my ever-changing location. The mortgage company is a little slow. They keep on FedExing me documents to sign and I keep on telling them that I can’t receive them and need a few day’s notice. I broke down and got a mortgage company. I am a wus and don’t want to worry about collecting rent or finding the "right" tenants.

Israel

It doesn’t even phase me that I’m going and it’s pretty darn soon. Actually, I was phased when somebody told me that a friend of their’s who went on birthright narrowly averted a homocide bomber. This alarmed me.

Haircut

I got a haircut today at the Paul Mitchell Institute. Firstly of note, the student had to fill out a diagnostic form at the outset and filled in my style as "Classic" as opposed to "Fashion Forward" or "Bold". I felt lame. She also characterized my face as round, and my hair as "normal" as opposed to "coarse."

The beauty of my hair is that the students are scared of it, so the highly qualified teachers end up doing the dirty work. Today, was no exception. I learned that in highly bureaucratic California that most of the high-end salons have apprentices, like the dude I was using at Festoon. So, I am going to hawk these places and get reduced-price haircuts amoung the privileged.

I have a problem when I get my haircut. It puts me to sleep. I don’t know why. But, I need to engage in conversation not because I am interested, but because it keeps me awake. I think it would be cool if you could sleep while someone cuts your hair…like horizontally and the whole shabang.

My hairdresser was notably funny insofar as she is 2 weeks from graduation and contemplating veterinary school. She said her true passion is animals. I am pretty sure she is incapable of this kind of pursuit, but I entertained it because it passed the time. I then suggested that she open a dog grooming parlor integrating the Paul Mitchell techniques. She said she would rather open a dog boutique.

My hair is shorter than it’s been.

Getting out of shape

Travelling for work is not as glamorous as I had envisioned it to be. It’s actually quite isolating, though interesting in it’s own way. So, in SF, I walk like 4-5 miles a day. That’s just my life. However, being away from SF is not good for my body/belly. I sit in the car or planes for hours on end. I thought - my hotel will have a gym or pool. I don’t care to take advantage of these amenities. I also don’t eat particularly healthfully when I go.

Tennis

With that said, Kitty and I shared a fun-filled Sunday playing tennis in North Beach. I hadn’t played in years and years. But, strangely, I had the same bad habits, the same swings, the same flaws. It was weird. We actually weren’t too too bad. We were equal to or better than the people on the adjoining courts. I couldn’t help but judge.

Law School

I successfully talked a colleague’s nephew out of attending law school, with the use of logos, of course. It just wasn’t for him  Another friend of mine is contemplating leaving a very cush job for law school, which I think to be foolish given his situation. But, then again, I made the same — very expensive — mistake/decision. Nothing could stop me. So, who am I to talk?

Parking Lot

- Today was Steve’s 28th birthday and he said nothing. I felt badly.

- I want to go to the Exotic Erotic Ball next week in SF. Black Eyed Peas are playing.

- Saw Emily and Mike and happy houred to an early evening demise. Ate delicious vegan ice cream and joked about ethnic ambiguity. Loved it.

- Rakhee introduced me to Ali G. And, I love him. It’s hard to describe Ali G. My old boss — who I disliked intensely — once tried to explain his humor. Then, I found myself doing same, but not conveying it well.

- I am extending the work trip, spending the weekend in Seattle and plan to venture to Vancouver and/or Victoria.  Tomorrow I meet with some alumni who are making baby back ribs for me at their home. I am scared they are going to do something with ketchup, but I have been good about this lately. In my head at least.

- I have lots of phone dates this week b/c I will be on the road this week. I also have to listen to Ragtime for my Vocal Ensemble class.

- Speaking of which, this older dude in my class is always complimented for his edgy/sophisticated clothing taste. Between that and the "classic" designation by my frustrated vet hairdresser, I am starting to develop a complex about my style.

Mission accomplished: I’ve spent a significant time alone and I’ve quite enjoyed my company.

Here’s how the trip has progressed since my last entry:

Since I boo-hooed about my D.C. night alone, two friends (Simon, who is now helping in NOLA and Fanta) contacted me and we had a lovely catch-up session, albeit a brief one, in D.C. Also, many people who read my blog were concerned and contacted me and reassured me of their feelings toward me, which I needed.

The GW Fair was very successful. The craziest part was all of my random connections to people there. The GGU table was in a section known as the "penalty box" for schools that signed up, or sent checks, late. Ironically, I was placed between Yale and Northwestern.  Immediately the Yale rep and I recognized one another. Then she asked, "did you ever try out for American Idol?" Turns out I was going to, but got laryngitis — anyways — I knew her from the CT Hispanic Bar Association. The Northwestern guy remembered my application to the Law School and we knew two people in common. William Mitchell, who was next to Yale, was staffed by a person who is best friends with my favorite Mac prof, Duchess Harris. And, the rep from Stetson was someone I met when I did the NAELA forum in Dallas. So, to make a long story short, the World is real small, especially among the highly educated of our generation.

I drove to Charlottesville that night down windy roads. Was excited about it because I know a lot of people who went there. Liked it — especially the beautiful campus — though there were WAY too many pearls and khakis for comfort (all the admissions people were making comments); the students looked like they were wearing a uniform.

The next day I went to Colonial Williamsburg. Turns out I stayed at the same hotel I stayed at when I went on my 5th grade trip. When I was driving I had this clear vision of the architecture and I got there — Voila — it was the exact same place. Just so you know, Williamsburg is likely the lamest city in America, thought it is quite manicured and bucolic. An area they call the "Delis" is their "neighborhood" of action because there is a cluster of three delis. (One of the Delis: Green Leaves, was actually quite good.) Regardless, I think I found a place that makes Hartford look splendid.

I may have agoraphobia or something of the sort because I don’t feel comfortable in a place without at least three restaurants from developing countries represented. Actually, I just feel sort of isolated when there aren’t a plethora of people walking around; I need hustle and bustle.

The next day I went to Newport News and visited Christopher Newport University which was a cute school I had never heard of before. At CNU I overheard and took notes of a very interesting political discussion between three friends about partisan politics. This one girl was so stupid to me that it was driving me bonkers. She said she was independent but voted for Bush because:

(a) Kerry is a socialist and she doesn’t want to revert to communism

(b) It is "dumb" to elect a new president in the middle of a war, and

(c) Because her ex-boyfriend was in the military and she has secret information.

How many people have you met who are Republican and justify it with a blanket reference to "secret information."

The Kerry supporter in the group responded by saying that she too was "independent" and doesn’t want her perspectives to be discounted by being labelled "liberal." They then gossiped about this gay guy who is obsessed with Bush and they were very confused because they thought it was oxymoronic. Oh, Virginia!

Then, I drove to Virginia Beach where I stayed at an awful Ramada with kicked-in walls and dank air. For dinner, I ate at a sickening Mongolian BBQ. For breakfast, I ate at Waffle House due to fond memories, but realized during breakfast that I was over it. I was so ready to leave the East Coast in general.

I arrived at Norfolk airport which was trippy because it was so small and had a smoking section. I travelled all day to Portland, OR. The weather here was awful and the plane ride was like a roller coaster, but I didn’t mind too too much — at least my ears weren’t too much in pain.

When I got to OR, the traffic and weather were bad and initially I had a lukewarm reaction. Though things started to get better when I came upon a very delicious BBQ place named "Buster’s". I hadn’t really socialized substantively in a week or so, but arrived at a pre-wedding party about an hour early. While waiting, I scanned Trivial Pursuit cards and learned all kinds of things, like that SPAM stands for "Spiced Ham." This was a sign of things getting better.

I got to reconnect with some college friends, namely Brianne — my former housemate. She is such a character — a true individual. She is someone who I don’t keep in touch with as well as I should, but I have a special compartment which she will always occupy. She is going to get married to this really great guy: Leon and she said something really sweet and poignant that you don’t need to be with someone to be happy but that she wants people in relationships to be in ones that feel as good as her’s. It’s amazing how sexually compatible she and Leon are to each other. They can’t keep their hands off each other, and this doesn’t bother me in the least. She brings me back to some really memorable times.

I should share a couple of those:

(1) One late night I was online in Ruth’s room and I hear tap on the window. At first I ignore it. I hear it again and then freak and run to Bri’s room. She picks up the phone and says "they cut the phone line!" We see the front door open slightly and we book it for the basement where we hyperventilate and hear steps coming toward us. Turns out the knock was a friend, the line was busy because I was online, and the door was opened by an upstairs neighbor who was letting our cat in from the frigid weather.

(2) We used to have fashion shows for hours with random household items like orange frill aprons and lampshades, and I loved it. We reenacted these when they played Madonna’s "Vogue" at the wedding reception.

Anyway, this morning I woke up bright and early and decided to spend the day exploring Portland, about an hour from Salem, which I did successfully. Almost too successfully. I arrived at about 9 am. All the while I listened to the best radio station I have ever heard: 94.7. If you like alternative music, this station is the perfect blend of recognizable and new songs with a great twist.

Actually, I thought San Francisco was the only place I could love, and I never expected to feel this way about Portland in particular, but I frikkin LOVE Portland — what a STELLAR town! I probably had the best day alone to date.

I started off with the best coffee ever (no acidity whatsoever) at a little coffee house. There was tremendous hustle and bustle in the morning unlike anything I have seen before. I read the local paper, which profiles a homeless person and had all sorts of awesome music selections. I have never had so many huckleberries in one day, starting with Tillamook yogurt.

People in Oregon read. I saw the biggest bookstore in the country: Powell’s. I even bought two books. The public library had a really long line of people waiting to get in at its 9 am opening. I should note here that people in OR are exceedingly nice. Aside from enacting the OR Death With Dignity Act, I had two independent experiences today where people who could have easily cut in line refused to do so. (This is especially poignant if you’ll remember the two classy biaches in line on the way to Baltimore?) The one bad habit I noticed is that in driving people will turn in front of you really late.

All day, I walked all around downtown, from the Red Light District to the amazing Farmer’s Market, rivalling San Francisco’s with samples of delicious sauces, cookies, cheeses, and nuts. Today, I was running around the Market on the phone with my mother telling her how wonderful the city was and asking questions on her behalf (re: investment).

Whilst walking around, I saw multiple Macalester sweatshirts.In general, the scenery and architecture totally reminded me of Mac and made me feel so comfortable. I also realized that there is no sales tax here, so I was quite the consumer today. Let’s not think about that.  I also checked out some real estate, and took a detour and went to Reed College, which also reminded me so much of Mac. There was more to see and I am excited to return in a few short weeks for work. Also, I hope to come back with Peter in January and buy something here — especially because there are great colleges here for me to work at (Lewis and Clark and Portland State, in addition to Reed).  I didn’t want to leave.

So I returned to Salem to attend the wedding, which I *thought* was at 4:30. When I arrived in downtown it was hailing and thundering. I went into a store for rubenesque women and they gave me the address of the "First Presbyterian Church." Then I ran through the rain and puddles and thought I had arrived, only to have entered through the side door to encounter a Priest about to enter mass. I am hyperventilating at this point and say "You are Catholic." He says "yes" and I tell him I am looking for a protestant church and he directs me 5 blocks away. I run like a madman to where he tells me to go, toward a cross, and it’s the frikkin Methodist Church. So my heart is pounding and it turns out the right church is directly across from the Catholic one.

I get inside at 4:37 and the wedding is totally and strangely underway. Turns out the wedding started at 4:00 and not 4:30. I saw the last 15 minutes of it, which were beautiful — especially the music, thinking that it was just a very abridged and efficient service. I missed 37 minutes.

I reconnected with some other old college friends, one of whom is engaged to a really cool guy I met tonight. They just moved to Stamford. (Such bad timing with all these awesome peopel moving to CT after I left — what gives?!)

We then went to the reception. All I have to say about the reception is OH MY GOD the food was outstanding. Meg’s brother Tucker is this really great guy who is a chef for an organic communal resort. He brought the whole crew from the resort to cook, including a guy who can do backflips on command. Dude, the food was ridiculous — hand-crafted, healthy, perfectly spiced — a masterpiece, with lots of hazelnuts and huckleberries. The wine was donated from some wealthy uncle and it was also just wonderful. It was a culinary experience.

So, yeah, after a week (and three years) on the East Coast, and a lifetime of thinking that I am an East Coaster in my blood and soul, I realize that I am really a West Coaster. All of these years people from the West Coast have repeated unassumingly how superior it is. Now I totally get it. I really love this State and all of the experiences I have had here in the past few days.

Back to San Francisco for me, after a day of wine tasting, though I’ll be displaced and couch-surfing all next week, which is maybe why I’m dreading my return. I’ll miss it here. But, not Virginia.