The Long and Winding Road

Day 11: August 2

Road Trip Part 1 has come to an end! (Stay tuned for Part 2 in September.)

First, acknowledgements must be made:

To Eliot, inspired by the Beatles' song "Martha My Dear" (written by Paul McCartney to his dog)-

Eliot my dear, though I spend my days in the hustle and bustle of the World Above,

Please

Remember me, Eliot my love

Don't forget me, Eliot my dear

Hold your head up, silly boy, and see the view up here

There are so many wonders you miss while you sniff and search the ground

For a place to pee

Help yourself to a bit of what is all around you

Silly boy

Take a good look around you

Take a good look and you're bound to see

That you're the sunshine and whole world to me

And you and I were meant to be

Eliot my dear, you will always be my inspiration

To grow more patient, loving, courageous, and kind

Please

Be good to me, Eliot my love

Don't forget me, Eliot my dear

To my mom, inspired by the Beatles song "Two Of Us"-

Two of us driving somewhere

Spending our hard-earned

Time and money

On memories that cannot be replaced

You and me, Sunday driving

Not arriving

On our way back home

We're on our way home

We're going home

Two of us munching Triscuits

Singing "Uptown Girl"

Searching for rest stops and bathrooms

You and me laughing till we cry

Talking and talking, as the hours pass us by

On our way back home

We're on our way home

We're going home

You and I have memories

Longer than the road that stretches out ahead

Two of us, with a dog

Standing so close

To God's amazing wonders

You and me chasing Tetons

smelling Redwoods

falling in love with Glaciers

On our way back home

We're on our way back home

We're going home

Truly, I am blessed and grateful to have a mom with the resourcefulness of superwoman (Superman's got nothing on her), the wisdom of a much older man with wrinkles and a white beard (Gandalf/Dumbledore?), and the ability to make me laugh till I can't breathe...and to have a dog who is as gentle as he is accommodating, as sweet as he is adorable.

Today we finished Beatles 1970 (which ended appropriately with "The Long and Winding Road") and ate our final free breakfast. Quality Inn has delicious food and allows dogs. The only reason I prefer La Quinta is that they offer evening snacks (!) and dog treats, as well as no pet fee. In the morning, we visited Muir Beach (30 minutes north of the Golden Gate Bridge), with dog-friendly hiking trails and a beach where Eliot was allowed off-leash. Then we had lunch at a lovely restaurant in Tiburon called Salt and Pepper. I ordered clam chowder and a crab sandwich, and my mom got a grilled salmon sandwich. It was only a 1 1/2 hour drive from there to home. The sun was shining, Dave Brubeck was working his magic over the stereo, and my dad was waiting in the driveway when we finally arrived home.

Day 10: August 1

Our penultimate day on the road brought us to the mighty and dignified trees of Redwood National Park. To be honest, this was the park I was least excited about, because I'm not a huge fan/connoisseur of trees, but it was awesome. I doubt I'll go back, but I'm SO glad I came. Everyone should experience these redwoods once in his/her lifetime. I've also never smelled air so fresh.

It's only 5 minutes from Crescent City to the park's Information Center. From there, we drove down Howland Hill Road, an unpaved twisty path that carries you through the woods and within inches of the gigantic redwoods. It was early morning, and almost nobody else was in the park. It felt intimate, just us and the trees. Part of me expected Grandmother Willow/Redwood to materialize and offer sage advice about life. Since there were so few people, we were also able to sneak Eliot onto some short trails.

Then we took the highway back around the park and down the coast, past numerous foggy beaches and on winding roads through more forests and hills. Eliot started out bright-eyed and enthusiastic, indulging in the refreshing scents and gazing out the window, but after consecutive hours of ups and downs, elevation changes, and sharp turns through the mountains, he looked miserable and slightly sick in the backseat. He endured in brave silence though. What a hero!

Aside from Howland Hill Road, I also recommend driving the Newton B. Drury Scenic Parkway (tons of trees) and turning onto Davison Road, which leads to Gold Bluffs Beach (dogs allowed).

We exited the park around 2pm and drove 5 hours to Petaluma, where we're spending our final night before arriving home in Saratoga tomorrow afternoon. Everyone raves about Highway 1 (Pacific Coast Highway), and I agree that it's beautiful, even on the foggiest of days (which today was). However, it can be exhausting to drive...it never lets up on twists/turns and ups/downs. I don't typically get motion sickness, but I was feeling a bit queasy, and I know Eliot was intensely relieved when we finally switched back to Highway 101.

Day 9: July 31

We surpassed the 4000-mile mark today! In the morning, we visited a dog park in Vancouver, WA called Ross Dog Park, then drove to the International Rose Garden in Portland. Eliot is very adept at stopping to smell the roses--all the roses. We had lunch at a Cuban restaurant called Pambiche. I had corn/chicken and 3-cheese empanadas, and my mom ordered an avocado and fruit salad.

Then we drove 5+ hours (with breaks) to Crescent City, CA and arrived in time to watch sunset on the beach.

Finished Beatles 1969, which had my 2 all-time favorite Beatles songs, Oh! Darling and Here Comes The Sun. :)

Day 8: July 30

5 national parks down, 1 to go! This morning we were ready 15 minutes before free breakfast was served (7am), so we brought our stuff to the parking lot and loaded the car. At 6:58am, my mom glanced through the hotel lobby window, gasped and exclaimed, "They're bringing out breakfast!", flung the car keys in my general direction, and bounded into the hotel. I learn from the best. 

On the way to Mount Rainier National Park, we listened to Casting Crowns, Westlife, and Queen, and sang along so passionately (as is obviously necessary) that I became a bit light-headed. We also completely missed the visitor's center next to Stevens Canyon Entrance.

John Muir deemed Mount Rainier the "noblest mountain along the Pacific coast." It also has the largest number of glaciers among all US mountains. My overall opinion is that I won't go back unless I plan to climb it (a daunting notion, but not impossible, I'd like to think). The park isn't really designed for people in cars. The setup of the roads isn't very convenient; often you have to exit the park and come in again through a different entrance, to continue a particular driving route.

There's basically one scenic drive that takes you around the park (excluding the surrounding forests), and it doesn't extend to the northwest portion. It's fun though, especially when you reach Sunrise (6400 ft. elevation). Lots of the hiking trails seem exciting, but we didn't do any, because as usual, dogs aren't allowed. There are signs everywhere, explicitly stating "No Pets Allowed," so we couldn't sneak Eliot in at any point. I was frustrated that dogs aren't allowed on even the shortest, simplest trails, but I suppose the park has its reasons. 

It being Saturday, the park was quite crowded. To get through the Sunrise Entrance, we had to wait for over an hour. My mom and I entertained ourselves by making 1-year, 5-year, and 10-year goals for our personal/spiritual lives, career, and health/fitness. (I got the idea from a Lululemon tote bag.)

We spent 6 hours at the park, and stopped by Chipotle before settling down for our last night at La Quinta in Vancouver, WA. (The next/last 2 nights, we'll stay at Quality Inn.) For dog-owners: I recommend visiting Rainier with your dog only if you spend half a day or less, and don't mind missing out on all physical activities. For Yellowstone, I'd say a whole day with your dog is worth it. Half a day for Tetons and Glacier should suffice, and 3-4 hours for Badlands. If you go without your dog, it's a whole different story, of course.

Day 7: July 29

Today, we are making up for unwasted time. Until now, every night after checking into our hotel, we unpack, eat, and go straight to bed with no time/energy to relax. So we decided to spend a couple hours tonight lying in bed and doing nothing.

This morning, we drove from Missoula, MT to Spokane, WA where we ate at a dog-friendly restaurant called Browne's Tavern, and then drove to La Quinta in Wenatchee, WA. Other than walking through Duncan Gardens in Spokane, we didn't do any outdoor activities, because it was a scorching 105 degrees.

After 7 days of road-tripping, I've amassed some general tips for the future:

1) If traveling with a dog, break at actual rest areas rather than (or in addition to) gas stations. The rest stops are quite nice, especially in the midwest. They provide "pet exercise areas," shaded picnic tables, and clean facilities. Some even have pretty viewpoints.

2) Travel through big cities on Saturday/Sunday to avoid traffic. We drove through Chicago on Saturday and St. Paul on Sunday, and saved the boonies for the weekdays.

3) If possible, travel westward in the morning and eastward in the evening, to avoid sun in your eyes. This particular trip has also been awesome, because we've been gaining hours as we go west.

4) Bring physical maps. AAA has awesome ones that show rest stops, highway exit numbers etc.

5) Gas Buddy and Roadtrippers apps are very useful, when there's internet access.

We were blessed with internet for almost the entirety of today's drive, so we finished Beatles 1966-68. My mom became obsessed with looking up lyrics and backgrounds of each song. Our Beatles marathon is turning out to be more enlightening than I anticipated. My mom said that all meteorically famous bands owe much of their success to good timing, being able to discern the public's current sentiment, and capitalizing on it. Then I realized there are many sides to the Beatles, which also contributed to their popularity. (Here comes a long rant. If you're not interested in the Beatles, you'd better stop reading now.)

There are the simple, free-spirited, let-your-hair-down Beatles songs, to which you can't help but sing/yell along, about how you'd die if your darling left, or how she's so fine, or how Beethoven will roll over. The first 2 years/4 albums are filled with such songs, which is why "Yesterday" stood out to me a couple days ago. There are Beatles songs with classical influences; I noticed Bach references a long time ago, but I had NO idea that Beatles were into John Cage, Stockhausen, and even used snippets of stuff like Sibelius 7. In their later albums, they get really experimental, especially in the "Revolution" songs ("Revolution 9" sounds like contemporary classical music to me) and "Tomorrow Never Knows." Speaking of which, there are Beatles songs that speak directly to the people of that time, about frustration with the government and American-Pie-ish, we-might-all-die-tomorrow sentiment (Cold War, Vietnam War etc.). Finally, there are Beatles songs that are downright dark and disturbing (but seem upbeat/casual on the surface). Some of the lyrics gave me heebie-jeebies. I noticed that the earlier albums have more songs about girls/love, whereas songs in the middle and later albums either tell a specific story or contain specific references. Also, there are more songs with specific names (Lucy**, Doctor Robert, Rita, the unfortunate Eleanor Rigby etc.) in the later albums, for some reason.

Recently, Spotify does this really irritating thing that makes me want to punch its stupid, neon green face. It keeps interrupting my playlists by forcibly "suggesting" songs that have NO relation whatsoever to my songs. Why would anyone EVER want to hear "Dark Horse" or "Wrecking Ball" in the midst of a Beatles marathon? It keeps suggesting super mainstream songs, too.

I think my musical taste is pretty diverse, and when people ask what's my favorite type of music, I usually reply, "Anything convincing"...good music is good music, regardless of genre. I can't say that a Beethoven symphony has more worth than a Bruno Mars song, just because Beethoven is more intellectual/complex. All I can say is that Beethoven has stood the test of time, whereas Bruno Mars has yet to prove his relevance for the next couple centuries. I also don't want to fall into the common trap of automatically glamorizing the past. But I have to say, the juxtaposition of Beatles and current mainstream music (aside from simply infuriating me, because I'm picky and want to hear exactly what I want, when I want) makes me a bit disillusioned with how pop culture is defining this generation.

Beatles certainly gave a clear, multi-faceted definition of their generation, and I wonder if artists today are merely depicting their own lives, or general ideas like relationships (cheating etc.) and being confident/empowered, rather than specific goings-on in society. Don't get me wrong--relationships and empowerment are great topics, and I appreciate Beyonce, Taylor Swift, Adele, and Maroon 5 for what they bring to the table. As long as music makes you feel something (besides nausea, irritation etc.) it has worth, I think. But in some contexts, I'm disappointed/confused by the progression of music, especially extreme superficiality in certain artists...is this how our generation is being represented, and how we'll be perceived in the future?

I was trying/failing to articulate these feelings to my mom, and she replied that time will eventually weed out the "bad eggs." During the Beatles' time, there were tons of artists/bands that weren't as good, but by now they've been discarded. We'll only know which of today's artists represent us in the future, when that future arrives. This made me feel better. I also realized/remembered that, as with stocks and fashion (and most things), music doesn't advance in a straight line. It moves cyclically up and down, in an ebb and flow. If I feel like we're at a low point, things are bound to bounce back up sometime. Right?

Day 6: July 28

Today was the smoothest and most pleasant day of our trip so far. Reenergized by our free breakfast (where they had bagels in ziploc bags for guests to take--so nice/considerate!), we sped happily to Glacier National Park with no delays.

We arrived at 11:30am, stopped by the visitor's center at the East Entrance (St. Mary), and drove "Going-to-the-Sun Road." It's a scenic drive running east to west, with gorgeous overlooks and tons of hikes along the way. (Dogs aren't allowed on any trails, except for a bike trail near the West Entrance. There's not much of a view there, just a bunch of trees, but it was a nice opportunity for Eliot to stretch his legs. I think the whole trail was about 2.5 miles.) It took us 3 hours to finish the drive, and we stopped a LOT. It's not really possible to take a bad photograph at Glacier National Park. No matter which way you turn, you're met with a stunning view. Here's a few:

Yeah...I don't think any descriptive words from me are necessary. Just go, before the glaciers melt. The weather was perfect (70 degrees with a breeze), and finally we were able to open all the windows while driving.

Getting to our hotel in Missoula, MT was no problem, and we ordered takeout from Cracker Barrel for dinner. I had chicken 'n dumplins, and my mom had a grilled chicken salad with vegetables. For sides, we got sweet potato, steamed broccoli, and brown rice pilaf. It was glorious.

Day 5: July 27

This is going to be short, because I've been awake for way too many hours, and we've been surviving on snacks (no real meals) for 4 1/2 consecutive days.

Yellowstone is humongous. There's an overwhelming amount of things to see and activities to do. We left our hotel in Cody, WY (a Super 8, which cost $264/night--it was the cheapest option in the area when our Airbnb fell through) at 8am, entered the park through the East Entrance at 9am, and drove maybe 5/8 of the scenic loop, exiting the park through the West Entrance at 7pm. I recommend the scenic loop drive, but it did take us 10 hours, and we didn't even do the entire thing. We stopped some overlooks and did a few short hikes, but for the most part we moved at a fast (if not slightly panicky/rushed) pace.

The defining feature for the Badlands is the eroded pinnacles, and for the Tetons it's the mountains. For Yellowstone, there are sooo many different features/attractions. It's like the Disney World of national parks. But the overarching theme is the giant volcano that erupted there 3 times in the past 2 million years, and its visible effects--the canyons, geysers, hot springs, rivers, and much more. There is also tons of wildlife. We saw herds of bison, some close enough to reach out of the car window and touch. They made amusing grunting noises, which prompted Eliot to emit a grumpy growl from the back seat.

Our progress was significantly slowed for 2 reasons. 1) Dogs aren't allowed on the paths to/from geysers, so at Mammoth Hot Springs and Grand Prismatic Springs, my mom and I took turns staying with Eliot while the other walked to the springs and back. 2) Old Faithful is the most famous geyser in Yellowstone (perhaps the world), and it erupts throughout the day, with wait times ranging from 35 minutes to 4 hours. We waited exactly 1 hour to see 100+ feet of water come bursting out of the ground. I'd say it was worth it.

The most amazing part was Grand Prismatic Springs. It's probably the weirdest thing in nature I've ever witnessed:

^

There are no filters, I swear! That's exactly what it looked like in real life. God/nature/science never ceases to stun and bewilder me.

So we exited the park at 7pm and planned to have a long-overdue, much-anticipated "real dinner" at a restaurant called Naked Noodle in Bozeman, MT. About 30 minutes into our drive north, we were brought to a screeching halt by a long line of traffic that was backed up at least 1/2 mile. Nobody was moving, and everyone's engine was turned off. We ended up sitting for over an hour, clueless as to what was going on. The guy behind me got out of his truck and clomped into the bushes to pee. Another guy a couple vehicles ahead perched himself on a rock at the side of the road, pulled out his guitar, and started playing. After a swarm of boys charged past, plainly playing some form of Tag, I figured there was enough time to take Eliot for a walk. We wandered up and down the line of cars, asking people what was going on (nobody knew). I swear one person had even waded into a nearby river and started fishing.

Around 9:30pm, we finally started moving. Dinner plans were cancelled, and tragically, the Subway at our gas station was closed. Another night spent polishing off cereal bars, grapes, and our fourth/final box of Triscuits...

Day 4: July 26

Today was what felt like the longest drive, followed by the most rewarding view. It took 6 hours (with plenty of breaks for Eliot) to traverse Wyoming, from La Quinta in Gillette to Grand Teton National Park. Parts of the highways had an 80mph speed limit, which surprised me; I've never had the luxury of driving 83mph without needing to keep an eye out for police. But most of the roads were one lane, extremely curvy, and very slow-going. The first half of the drive was mind-numbingly dull, with flat expanses of dried grass and the occasional bush/tree or herd of cows. We passed a town called Highland, with a population of 10. To keep ourselves from falling asleep, we listened to Beatles 1965 and noted "Yesterday," the most surprisingly thoughtful and (in my opinion) sincere song of theirs we've heard so far. I also liked the 10 seconds or so of Bach-ish keyboarding in "In My Life."

During the second half of the drive, the scenery changed. Colorful mountains rose on either side of the road, everything from craggy sand-colored ridges to pastel rolling hills, from formidable rusty red boulders to golden mounds dotted with sprigs of shrubbery. These drastically contrasting formations sat side by side, as if completely unaware of their differences. The sky was blue, and the rainbow of earthy colors reflected faintly in the clouds above. So magical.

However, it was an extremely long and winding road, and we lost cell phone reception for the majority of the drive. Beatles, which I accessed via Spotify, was replaced by a Schumann/Schubert marathon (1 song cycle and 1 symphony each), which I accessed via my iTunes. After rounding a corner, we suddenly spotted the Grand Tetons, a row of gray mountains. Even from a distance, they were an arresting sight. I don't know how to properly describe. They're like an optical illusion--you keep thinking you'll arrive at the base of the mountains at any moment, but in reality you're still dozens of miles away. It's like when you're a little kid, and you think the moon is following you wherever you go. When we first saw the Tetons, my mom and I were like, "Whoa." Then as we drove closer, we kept reiterating the same word, but with more vowels each time.

If I were to describe the Tetons in 3 words, I'd use "majestic" and "must return." There's SO much to do--floating tours (where you observe the mountains while floating around on a raft), biking trails, hiking, camping, climbing, animal-watching...I'd happily spend a week there. Besides for a few added activities, what's the difference between Badlands and Tetons, for me? Both are awesome in full sense of the word--magnificent, massive, mind-boggling. But somehow, the Tetons feel friendly and welcoming, while the Badlands seem at once both austere and lonely. The Tetons make me peaceful and happy when I look at them.

If you visit this park by car, I highly recommend traveling via US 26. The view will drop your jaw, open your eyes, and warm your heart. Be warned--it's a long drive. Bring plenty of snacks, don't rely on GPS/internet, and take advantage of gas stations/bathrooms whenever they're available, because you seriously don't know when you'll ever come across one again. My mom and I enjoyed the scenic drive around the park, as well as Jenny Lake and Jenny Lake Trail. (Dogs aren't allowed on any trails, but Eliot's a rebel, and plus he naturally possesses that "service dog" vibe, so nobody questioned us.) Eliot enjoyed the many bugs he chased, the numerous bushes/trees he peed on, and the array of people who complimented his cuteness. (At one point, he trotted right into the middle of a group of people and sat down, giving them a look that clearly said, "Here I am. You may pet me now." Which they did.)

Coming up--Yellowstone and Glacier. Stay tuned!

Day 3: July 25

What a day.

It started off awesomely, with breakfast. You guys. I love La Quinta! The food at their free breakfasts varies depending on location! Yesterday in Madison was pastries and bread-type stuff, and today in Sioux Falls was scrambled eggs, sausage, waffles etc. plus my favorite kind of oatmeal! I was SO happy.

On our way from Sioux Falls to Badlands National Park, my mom and I had a fascinating discussion about our family history. I learned about my grandma's uncle, who led the Taiwanese Revolution in 1947 and was a major badass. It's important to acknowledge the negative impact his decisions had on his family though. During the rebellion, his wife sold their belongings and scraped up just enough money to flee to New York with their kids. Then, she cut off all ties with him. During his imprisonment, my grandma and her siblings had to travel to his location of exile in Japan with a voice recording from his mother, begging him to cooperate with the KMT government and return to Taiwan. My mom recalls being in elementary school when my grandma would regularly visit various family members in Taiwanese prison.

The conversation was super engaging, but I also got a bit nervous, because when my mom gets excited while driving, she swerves consistently to the right, and her voice becomes progressively louder. When our talk died down, I put on Beatles 1964, and we relaxed in silence. At one point, all 3 of us (Mom, Eliot, and I) yawned at the exact same time.

We arrived at Badlands National Park around 11:30am, and it was 95 degrees. If you use Google maps when traveling to a national park, make sure it directs you to the proper entrance. We went through the Northeast entrance, stopped by the visitor center, and drove the Loop Road, which brought us through the entire park and to various viewpoints. It took about 2 hours to drive from the east side of the park to the west. We stopped at most of the viewpoints but didn't do any hiking trails, because dogs aren't allowed. Eliot came down with us for most of the stops, but the ground was super hot and I was worried about his paws burning (though he seemed fine). If I were to describe the badlands in 3 words, I'd use "outer space" and "bizarre." When nobody else is around, it's like being on another planet. I can see why people (particularly guys) love this national park and deem it their favorite. There are a bunch of cliffs and boulders to climb, and if the weather hadn't been scorching and I didn't have a dog, I'd be clambering over the rocks in a heartbeat. But I wouldn't spend more than a day there, and I wouldn't insist on camping or even hiking much--it's too hot, and after a while, everything starts to look the same. If I return in the future, I'd like to watch a sunset/sunrise and do some stargazing.

We exited the park with plenty of daylight left, so we visited Custer State Park in Black Hills National Forest, SD. The park has a $20 entrance fee, but our hike around Sylvan Lake was worth it. The lake is near Harney Peak (the highest point in SD), and during our drive up, my mom kept commenting on a gigantic, mushroom-shaped cloud to the right of the mountain. She said, "What a strange cloud!" at least 8 times, and I was all, "Okay okay Mom, calm down." Then we arrived at the lake and went on our hike. It was such a fun trail! It seems like your regular old paved path at first, but then you find yourself squeezing through tunnels, scrambling up and down large rocks, and hopping from stone to stone on shallow parts of the lake.

During the second half of our walk, we heard distant thunder. When we were preparing to eat a snack, the sky darkened ominously, so we inhaled our sweet potato and hopped into the car just as the first raindrops fell. We had turned onto the windy narrow road leading down the mountain and were congratulating each other at our awesome timing, when it started hailing. It sounded like gunshots were hitting my car, and I had to pull over (along with a cluster of other terrified cars/drivers). In minutes, the temperature dropped from 84 to 48 degrees, and there were dime-sized pellets of ice scattered all over the ground and my car. I actually thought the windshield would crack from the force of the hailstones, and my mom and I had to shout to be heard over the deafening noise. Eliot was alarmed at first, but then he curled up in a ball and went to sleep. When I started driving again, he discovered a fly that had stupidly found its way into the vehicle, and he capered nimbly about the backseat in pursuit, totally unperturbed by the weather. I seriously have the most easygoing dog ever.

As we inched our way down the mountain at a glacial pace, the hail turned to rain, and then all of a sudden it was sunny, back to 84 degrees, and we even saw a rainbow!

Day 2: July 24

The weather was merciful today, and everything went according to plan. After a nice breakfast, I took a brief jog around the perimeters with Eliot, and my mom checked us out of the hotel. Our drive from Madison to Minneapolis began with a rousing singalong to "All About That Bass" (my mom knows it from her zumba class). Our moods were further cheered by the amazingly low gas prices in the area--$1.95, $2.09, and $1.85 for each of the times we refilled!

The first stop was Minnehaha Park in Minneapolis, MN. They have an off-leash dog park, but like the DFA's in Chicago, you need a special license to enter with your dog, so we explored the rest of the park instead, and there was plenty to do. We admired a decently impressive waterfall and hiked a fairly exciting trail. It was a sunny 84 degrees.

Our second stop was Falls Park in Sioux Falls, SD. Sioux is pronounced "sue." There are no hiking trails, but we spent an hour exploring the paved paths, enjoying the majestic waterfalls, and watching this one hilarious/unfortunate duck who somehow got himself stuck on a tiny rock amidst the swirling water and had no idea how to escape. For all I know, he's still there, mustering up the courage to brave the waves.

We drove 7-8 hours and 515 miles today. We also began our Beatles marathon. I made 8 playlists, 1 for each year the Beatles released records. Today we listened to 1963 (2 albums, "Please Please Me" and "With The Beatles"). Every song except one is less than 3 minutes long, and they're all pretty upbeat. My favorites are "Misery," "Twist and Shout," and "Till There Was You."

Day 1: July 23

This morning, my mom, my dog Eliot, and I set off on a road trip from Troy, Michigan to Saratoga, California. Yesterday we agreed that we'd depart absolutely no later than 9am, so naturally it was 10:10am when we left the house. During breakfast, I was researching our scheduled activities for the day and discovered with dismay that Chicago's Montrose Dog Beach, a well-known DFA (dog-friendly area), only allows dogs with a specific license administered by a participating vet in Illinois. If you're coming from out of state, you must bring your dog to an Illinois vet's office with the appropriate vaccination papers, possibly have your dog re-vaccinated by this particular vet, and pay $5 for the DFA license. So I scratched the dog beach off our agenda and Yelped around for a dog-friendly restaurant instead. That took a while. Then, after loading the car, we stopped at Costco to fill up on gas and realized we'd forgotten some stuff at home. Doubled back, retrieved the stuff, and were on our way.

Today's music selection was as follows: radio (oldies station) until it lost signal, Beethoven last 2 piano sonatas (Rudolf Serkin), Beethoven Op. 18's and Op. 130 (Emerson), Frank Rosolino Quartet, Andre Mehmari, Abba and Adele and Backstreet Boys (my mom's choices), and a bunch of random pop songs on shuffle from my iTunes. I'm saving podcasts and special playlists for later on, when we inevitably run out of topics to discuss.

We took 3 breaks for Eliot on our way through Michigan and Indiana into Illinois--2 gas stations and 1 rest stop with a field. Eliot and I jogged several laps around the field. (It was 94 degrees and I almost collapsed, but he was delirious with happiness and got that crazed "call-of-the-wild" expression on his face.) In the car, Eliot was subdued and rolled around the backseat with a glazed look in his eyes, except when we drove past one of the Chicago subway stations, and he randomly leapt up and gave several uncharacteristically masculine barks.

Lunch was at a funky little restaurant on the outskirts of Chicago called Lula Cafe. Our waitress wore a bright-colored flowery dress and had orange (dyed) hair and bubble-gum pink lipstick. My mom ordered beet bruschetta--beets, creamy feta, and greens over fresh bread--and I got quesadillas with zucchini, ricotta, and other yummy ingredients I can't recall. Eliot spent his time perusing the ground for crumbs, leaping up to catch and spit out the occasional unfortunate fly, and refusing to eat the food I'd brought for him. It dawned on me that bringing Eliot on road trips means that every time we eat out, we will literally be eating out--outside, in 90+ degree weather. Despite the delicious food, I was in mild agony, achieving that level of sweatiness where moisture drips down strange, unpleasant places (elbow, ear, chin etc.).

After lunch, we made our way to Wisconsin. I'd planned a 1-hour hike on the Seven Bridges Trail in Grant Park (Milwaukee), but shortly after crossing the border, the skies turned murky grey and opened with an alarming rapidity. The rain fell in such copious quantities that I had to switch my windshield wipers to panic-mode, the super intense setting where my car looks like it's freaking out and waving in hysterical desperation. There was lightning and thunder and everything. Luckily, Eliot sleeps soundly through thunderstorms, and we survived the drive. We didn't get to do the hike, but instead headed directly to our hotel in Madison. We plan to spend nearly every night of this trip in La Quinta Inns, because they allow dogs and (equally importantly) they serve free breakfast.

For dinner, we had various selections from the feast we packed on the car--4 boxes of Triscuits, 98 cereal bars (thanks Costco), sweet potatoes, baby carrots, celery sticks, peanut butter, 8-grain bread, bananas, grapes, zucchini bread, cuties, and about a dozen hard-boiled eggs.

Currently in our hotel room, my mom and I are watching a track-and-field event on ESPN (taking place at Rice U!), and Eliot is playing with his chew toy on the floor between our beds. I'm looking forward to free breakfast tomorrow morning. :)

Eliot's Journal

Dear Journal,

Today was another splendid day with Jennifer. Jennifer is my leader, sister, and best friend. She makes me very HAPPY! In the morning, I came out of my crate and Rolled Over on the carpet. I like to pretend the carpet is grass and leave my scent all over it. Sometimes Jennifer laughs at me, and that makes me HAPPY! When she smiles or laughs, my heart feels warm and my tail wags.

Then we went downstairs. I ran QUICKLY to demonstrate how strong and athletic I am. I am a super fast dog!!! Jennifer ate breakfast and looked at her bright rectangular screen. She calls it her laptop. She looks at her laptop a lot, and it makes her laugh and cry. Sometimes Jennifer's friends appear in the laptop and talk for a long time. I don't understand how they got inside there, and I become very confused and tilt my head.

After breakfast, we went outside for morning patrol. I spotted three squirrels in sector 9, but I only barked once, because Jennifer does not like me to bark. She says "no Eliot" and "that's rude" in a low voice. She does not know that squirrels are EVIL and plotting to take over the world. I have to protect her by scaring them off with loud and manly barks!

Jennifer gave me 5 treats before she left for work. I was very HAPPY to eat them!!! After I finished, I remembered that Jennifer left, and I cried for a while.

Then I went to the back door and looked out into the distance. I thought about the important, overarching questions of life Jennifer often asks me. "Should we go for a walk?" "How was your day?" And most of all, the question people ask me whenever they come over: "Who's a good boy?" These are wonderments and issues I ponder when I am alone. Who is a good boy? Will I ever find out?

After that, I chewed my peanut butter bone, and I was very productive. Then I was tired, so I slept on the couch. When the sky became dark, I heard sounds outside that mean: JENNIFER IS BACK! Every time she returns, I greet her at the door with my task of the day. Today I brought her my peanut butter bone, and she was very impressed. I am a super good chewer!!! I stared carefully at her face to figure out her mood. Her eyes were tired and happy, which means she had a good day!

Jennifer put her things down, and I hugged her for a long time. Then she sat on the floor. I Rolled Over so she could pet my tummy. It felt GOOD!!! I like to put my Paw on her shoulder. I also Sat very straight, crossed my arms, and held my head high so she could scratch my neck. I am a very dignified and handsome dog.

Then, Jennifer wanted to play. She threw several of my toys (including the fuzzy ball) around the room. This is strange. She wants me to bring the toys to her, but why does she throw them away in the first place? I am training her to stop this habit by ignoring her when she throws things. She is improving slowly. My favorite game is Hide and Seek. I am super good at it!!!

During evening patrol, there were no squirrels, but I saw one cat and two small humans in sector 4. I marked 16 rocks, bushes, and fire hydrants. Jennifer collected my poop in a bag.

After we returned, I was tired and wished we could go to bed. But I waited several hours for Jennifer to finish her tasks. I am a very patient dog. I Sit close to her and stare at her face. That way, I know what she is feeling. This is very important, because my task is to protect Jennifer and make her happy.

Tonight, Jennifer's laptop made music. I am a sophisticated dog and enjoy music. I love Bartok, Elgar, and Beyonce. When I hear these songs, I Sit straight up and focus very hard. Sometimes Jennifer and I make music together. She plays violin, and I sing. I am a very loud singer, because I am very passionate!!!

I took a nap until Jennifer said, "Let's go upstairs." I ran QUICKLY upstairs to the bedroom. I am a super fast dog!!! I grabbed my teddy bear and flung it into the air, to demonstrate how strong I am!!!

While Jennifer took a shower, I went into my crate. It is very warm and smells like me. Ever since my first day living with Jennifer, I slept in this crate. Before that, I lived in another crate in a different building, with no blankets or toys. I had dog friends, but I did not have a human to protect or love. I was very confused and empty, because I had no job or name. Because of Jennifer, now I know my name is Eliot! My job is to protect and love Jennifer! My whole life is Jennifer. And I know I am cute, smart, and the Best Dog, because Jennifer tells me that every day. I am so lucky!!!

After Jennifer got into bed, our room became dark and I fell asleep. I had many lovely dreams about playing and snuggling with Jennifer.

Love, Eliot

Running for Newbies

Last year I wrote an entry about buying a property for the first time, with suggestions/tips for prospective homeowners as clueless as me, and I got feedback (even from strangers) that it was a helpful read. So this year, I thought I'd share my experience of running a half-marathon, for those who have never done a running event but might consider trying. Actually, the time period for both activities were quite similar--I looked at houses for about 2.5 months before picking one and closing, and I trained for about 9 weeks before marathon day. Ensuing stress and necessary courage to follow through on both occasions were also comparable.
My rather meager running history began in middle school PE, where I remember doing something called the 20-minute run (basically everyone ran around the field nonstop for 20 minutes), and it was nothing short of torture. After finishing my required PE credits in high school, the only running I ever did was away from bugs or toward food. During college, I joined the YMCA next to school because they had individual TV's on their treadmills. Once in a while, I'd run outdoors along the Charles River or through Boston Common because it was super pretty...also, as far as I know, running is the cheapest and quickest way to stay in shape.
After moving to Michigan, 4 miles was the length of my basic run. The thing is, like a typical older child, I'm kind of competitive. My competitiveness toward other people can be curbed, especially when it's obvious they're better than me, but competitiveness toward myself often gets out of hand. Basically if I do an activity more than once, it's SUPER important that I improve each time...I don't know why, that's just how my brain works. Last spring, Detroiters were blessed with one week of unbelievably perfect weather, and deciding to make the most of it, I went on daily runs and increased a mile each time, so by the end of the week, I had reached 8. Experienced runners say this is rare, to jump from 4 to 8 miles in 5 days, but I had no idea...I was simply so happy to be outside and so determined to get better. Unfortunately, the next week I sprained my ankle and couldn't run for several months. During that period of rest, I told a friend about my random burst of exercise, and she said seriously, "If you can run 8 miles, you can do a marathon!" (Apparently the starting length for a beginner's training program is 8 miles.) That got me thinking...was it possible that someone like me could actually run a marathon???
Eventually I forgot about it, especially since it took forever for my ankle to heal, and I hadn't run in ages. In late July, I heard about a fundraising organization partnering with the Detroit marathon to provide clean water for impoverished people in Africa. It seemed like a sign, and after a LOT of wavering and nail-biting, I finally signed up for the fundraiser and a half-marathon (it was too late to start training for a full).
For those who want to train but don't run regularly, the beginning will be brutal. There's a phase when you get endlessly multiplying blisters, and a phase when you're just so friggin sore all the time. Both seem like they'll never end, but they do eventually subside. The first pair of shoes I bought didn't fit correctly, so I got jogger's toe (aka subungual hematoma, where one of your toenails turns reddish-black/purple from excess contact with the front of your shoe). It's a bit scary if you've never seen it before, but after a few days, it shouldn't hurt, and as long as you keep it clean and switch shoes, you're fine. As the length of your runs increases, you'll encounter other issues, like chafing on the inside of your thighs if you wear shorts, and having to carry water on your runs. A handheld water bottle with a pouch for a phone (from REI) worked for me because I don't mind holding something while running, but most people get some sort of belt with waterbottle-holders.
It's good to refer to training schedules online, but in the end, just observe your body and adjust accordingly. I wouldn't recommend purchasing a schedule or following one exactly unless you have NO clue what to do. A lot of schedules are too time-consuming, in my opinion. After the first few weeks, I figured out what my body was capable of and made my own schedule based on that. I'm a big proponent of more effort/less time regarding exercise, so I only ran 2-3 times a week (1-2 short runs, 1 long run). Short runs=3 miles, long runs=anything more. My prep went something like this:
Week 1= 3 mi. + 5 mi. + 3 mi.
Week 2= 3 mi. + 6 mi. + 3 mi.
Week 3= 3 mi. + 7 mi.
Week 4= 3 mi. + 8 mi.
Week 5= 3 mi. + 9 mi.
Week 6= 3 mi. + 10 mi.
Week 7= 3 mi. + 11 mi.
Week 8= 3 mi. + 9 mi.
Week 9= 3 mi. + 5 mi. + 3 mi.
I'm not advocating this plan, but it worked for me. I figured out the minimum amount of short runs I needed to get through a long run later that week. If you run too often, you'll be too tired for a good long run, but if you don't run enough, your body can't handle the sudden long stretch. By the way, you're not "supposed" to do the full length of a marathon until the day of the event. This is very antithetical to musical training, with all the dress rehearsals, run-throughs etc. But somehow it worked; never underestimate the power of adrenaline.
A few tips that helped me-
1) After every run, soak your feet in lukewarm water. It feels good and washes away sweat/dirt ASAP. I also had minty cream that I put on my feet/ankles after showering.
2) Focus on one goal at a time. First I simply concentrated on surviving each long run. Then it was increasing my pace during short runs. Then it was running earlier in the morning (marathon starts at 7am, with arrival time around 5:30am).
3) Find out app. what temperature it'll be on the day of your event and run at least once in similar conditions, in the clothes you plan to wear.
4) Compile a good playlist. Unless you're one of those superhuman runners who don't need music, this makes ALL the difference. Some of my favorites:
Beat It/ Michael Jackson
Don't Stop Till You Get Enough/ Michael Jackson
Mambo/ Tropkillaz
Baby Baby/ Tropkillaz
Run The World/ Beyonce
Krazy/ Pitbull
The Anthem/ Pitbull
Move Shake Drop/ Pitbull
Live It Up/ JLo, Pitbull
I Feel Good/ James Brown (Fatboy Slim remix)
Uptown Funk 8-)
On To The Next One/ Jay-Z
Get Loose/ T.I., Nelly
You Can Do It/ Ice Cube
B.O.B/ Outkast
Shots/ Lil Jon, LMFAO
Sexy Back/ Justin Timberlake (Drastik remix)
Turn Down For What/ DJ Snake, Lil Jon

Most of these songs I don't like at all unless I'm exercising. Like "Shots"...the lyrics are despicable! But if I tune out the words, it's actually quite a good song. (Weirdly enough, I do the same thing to enjoy opera/lieder, although that's because the lyrics are in another language.)
5) Having a cause/charity to run for is key. I don't think I could've gotten through those 9 weeks with only myself as motivation. But with every selfless donation, every kind word of encouragement, and every individual I was able to help, I gained energy and purpose and joy (!) to run a little bit faster/longer. :)

Little Women

This is the best book I've read in a while, so I couldn't resist making an entry of literary quotes. I think the best works of art/entertainment are simple, free of pretentiousness, and from the heart.

She began to see that character is a better possession than money, rank, intellect, or beauty.

Simple, sincere people seldom speak much of their piety; it shows itself in acts, rather than in words, and has more influence than homilies or protestations.

Beth...clung more closely to the dear human love, from which our Father never means us to be weaned, but through which He draws us closer to Himself.

"Teddy, we never can be boy and girl again; the happy old times can't come back, and we mustn't expect it. We are man and woman now...I'm sure you feel this; I see the change in you, and you'll find it in me. I shall miss my boy, but I shall love the man as much, and admire him more, because he means to be what I hoped he would. We can't be little playmates any longer, but we will be brother and sister, to love and help one another all our lives, won't we, Laurie?"
He did not say a word, but took the hand she offered him, and laid his face down on it for a minute, feeling that out of the grave of a boyish passion there had risen a beautiful, strong friendship to bless them both.

"I do think that families are the most beautiful things in all the world!"

Too Much Tchaikovsky

For the past three weeks, DSO performed twelve concerts of all Tchaikovsky--six symphonies, three piano concertos, Swan Lake, Romeo and Juliet, and various other overtures/concertos etc. On the first day, we "rehearsed" three symphonies in four hours. In retrospect it's kind of funny, but during that moment I wanted to travel back in time and punch Tchaikovsky in the face. (Just kidding. But seriously.)
After a while, I started noticing some upsetting changes in my behavior. Most of the time, I remained my usual self--simple-minded Jennifer, frequently confused and prone to excessive laughter. But as the Tchaikovsky marathon forged on, I found myself becoming increasingly oversensitive. I shed tears of joy when the Warriors beat the Spurs (FINALLY), bawled during every Ellen commercial where she gives stuff away (I wouldn't even know the back story, I'd just watch her presenting giant checks to overwhelmed audience members and burst into tears)...and I legitimately cried at least three times while having lunch with a friend last week. To be fair, she was telling me a very dramatic story, but still. It's been embarrassing and exhausting.

Even worse, I began developing an alter ego in my head, with some strange compulsions:
1) To spend hours in front of the mirror, loathing myself and lamenting countless regrets
2) To complain in run-on sentences (while secretly relishing the sound of my voice and the sheer drama of dissatisfaction/misery)
3) To march around majestically, wearing a huge fur coat and carrying a scepter
4) To don a gown in the style of Disney princesses and waltz gracefully around a fancy ballroom
5) To sneak outside and tiptoe through the snow in my pajamas to visit the Sugar Plum Fairy
6) To relive those high school days of star-crossed young love and bemoan the tragic dichotomy between perfect unadulterated affection and bad timing
7) To drown my sorrows (and the frigid weather) in vodka
8) To try over and over AND OVER to approach my lover and confess my feelings, but losing confidence every time and retreating back to my small dark corner of despondent heartache

Thank goodness the Tchaikovsky festival ended today, before I lost all sanity and jumped off a cliff or something.

In all seriousness, overlooking his flaws as a composer (and probably as a person), the strongest impression Tchaikovsky made on me during these last few weeks is how sad he must have been, and how sorry I feel for him. Anyone who writes such music must have experienced despair to the depths of which I cannot even fathom, let alone endure.
Poor guy.

(And yet, 1812 Overture always succeeds in making me less sympathetic toward him.)

TBT

Earlier this month, I was chatting with a colleague backstage before a concert, and he mentioned that he's been in the orchestra since 1966. After the concert in which we played Beethoven 7 (a piece that's VERY familiar...even if you've just heard it for the first time, it will feel familiar by the end...), we were putting away our instruments, and he burst out, "Isn't that the most amazing symphony!" Then he proceeded to enthusiastically describe all his favorite parts of the piece. And I thought: After half a century of playing in the DSO, during which he's probably performed Beethoven 7 a hundred times, he's still proclaiming how much he loves it, with the sincerity and gusto of a child discovering it for the first time.

That reminded me of a moment last year, when the same person and I bumped into each other during break after rehearsing Beethoven 5 (if possible, an even more familiar and often-performed work). I was in a pretty good mood, and when he asked how I was doing, I couldn't help exclaiming that I LOVE Beethoven 5. Then I added something like, "I'm not crazy about the conductor, but I'm just going to enjoy the music." He smiled at me like I'd won the lottery, patted me on the back, and said, "That's the key."

Which in turn reminded me of an entry I wrote in here about five years ago...


September 30, 2010
What Feels Good

If I made a Top-10 list of the things that make me feel good, somewhere near the top would be playing a great concert. Tonight was the first NEC orchestra concert of the year, and it felt good. First of all, Jordan Hall was literally full to the brim...I counted maybe five or six empty seats. Second of all, it was like a football stadium, with all the cheering and roaring, even before we played a note. But most of all, the energy generated in each piece was so tangible and present, like a ball of fire coming from the players, being spread to every corner of the hall, and bouncing off the audience back to us. It's a kind of energy you only get from "youth" orchestras...this wide-eyed, passionate, even overzealous eagerness to share the music. I like to look around when I'm playing in orchestra, and these are some of my favorite snapshots: a man in the front row with his eyes closed and a smile stretching across his face the entire time; the kid next to him with a huge afro nodding along to the music as if it were rap or heavy metal; a wave of string players with their faces and bodies swaying to a whirlwind of sound; and little smiles between stand partners.
Sometimes I have to stop and remind myself how amazing it is to be able to produce sound. I've been playing violin for so long, it's easy to take this luxury for granted, but just think--with your two hands, you can create a medium of expression encapsulating ideas that have spanned centuries. Out of your instrument can come sounds that draw the darkest secrets and strongest feelings from deep within a listener's mind. And into your instrument can pour all the emotions and experiences that have been stored in your body after a lifetime of living...it's a miracle, really, if you think about it.
If, by divine will, I am able to do such a thing for the rest of my life...well, I pray I will never ever take it for granted.

My New BFF

Meet Eliot!

He is a three-year-old border collie I recently adopted from a nearby animal hospital. Our meeting was a stroke of luck, because I had actually visited the hospital to consider a different dog. When that didn't work out, several other dogs were brought over to meet me, and Eliot was the last of the bunch. (His original name at the hospital was Mr. Bones, but I was like "uh no" and he never responded to it anyway.) Immediately when he entered, he was a little beam of sunshine, taking a speedy sniff around the perimeter of the room before promptly coming over to greet me with a big goofy smile.

After two days, I got to bring him home, and I named him Eliot after my favorite author (George Eliot). Eliot is, for the most part, a mature and sophisticated dog. He is a gentleman, chivalrously pausing before every doorway so I can enter first. When we go on walks, he slows down every few steps to glance up at me and make sure I'm still there. He also generally follows me everywhere, even if he's sleeping and I'm just walking a few steps to get a tissue (I've been sick)...he'll spring up and accompany me to the tissue box and back before returning to his nap.

He has some weird feline characteristics...for instance, he's really good at that thing cats do where they rub up against you with an arched back while passing by. If I'm sitting on the ground, he'll do a twisting motion and land face-up in my lap with his paws curved elegantly in the air. Sometimes if we make meaningful eye contact for a length of time, or if I stand next to him petting him for over a minute, he becomes overwhelmed with emotion and stands on his hind legs to give me a hug. It's not like a normal dog jumping up to greet you--his front paws actually wrap around my waist, he rests his head on my stomach, and he stays in that position for a long time.

While he's usually pretty gentle and serene, he has his call-of-the-wild moments when he becomes very excited and enjoys jumping up and doing twists in mid-air. Eliot is also very smart, and I think he has a lot of potential, especially since border collies are indisputably declared the most intelligent breed of dogs. (I signed him up for training classes, so we'll see how that goes.) He started recognizing his new name on his first day home, and he learned "paw" after only three tries...maybe he had learned it long ago with a previous owner, but even so, he recalled it really quickly. He also does this thing where he holds a ball in his mouth and thrusts it so it goes bouncing across the room. Then he'll sit and stare at me with an expectant look on his face until I bring the ball back to him. I stopped playing this with him though, because I realized it's kind of demeaning to be fetching balls for my own dog.

One of the best things about Eliot is that he actually enjoys taking medicine. He's had to take pills and liquid medicine the past few days, and he's so cooperative...he's also very accommodating when we're about to go outside. He sits at my feet and waits for me to put on all my outerwear, and then gives me his paw to hold while I'm attaching his leash. I'm not quite sure why he's always giving me his paw, but it's very cute. :)

Apparently the animal hospital where I met Eliot rescued him from another shelter, where he was listed as "urgent" (about to be put down). I'm almost positive that Eliot had at least one former owner, since he's so well-behaved, and I'm guessing he was surrendered because he's quite high-maintenance. Border collies require a lot of attention and mental stimulation, and not many people can handle that. I probably didn't choose the most easygoing breed for my first dog, but our personalities are matching pretty well so far, and he's teaching me many things, most notably unwavering patience for all things good and ready/joyful forgiveness for all things bad.

Growing Up

The other day I was skimming Jeremy Lin's blog, and it reminded me that I have a blog too and should update it at least once before the year ends. On a side note, the more I learn about Jeremy Lin, the more I'm convinced he's my soul mate. He plays songs from The Lion King on his keyboard, doesn't like vegetables, and included my favorite Bible verse in one of his posts. Be still my heart!

Last October, I wrote an entry describing the process of buying a car. Who would've known that a year later, I'd write an entry describing the process of buying a property? Here's the random/destined sequence of events that led to this important decision: break up with boyfriend >> decide to get a dog >> decide to rescue a dog >> some dog shelters won't let you adopt unless you're a homeowner >> decide to become a homeowner. In August, I was researching dog shelters and told my mom, "It's so frustrating that some shelters don't let you adopt unless you're a homeowner." She replied, "Well, if I were you, I'd buy a condo." "Really?" "Yeah." ".....Okay!" Three months later, I closed on my first property.

I watch a lot of HGTV, so I thought I was pretty prepared for the buying process. HGTV supplies important information, like how to prioritize your must-haves, how to negotiate, and what issues are easy fixes (floors) versus nightmares (black mold). But you know at the end of those house-hunting shows when the buyer's offer is accepted, everyone celebrates, and then they skip to three months later or whatever when everyone's all moved in? I'd like a show about what happens during the time frame they skip, because that was most difficult/confusing for me.

So this is how it went down. First I figured out what cities/neighborhoods I preferred, noobed around on Zillow to get a general idea, found an agent I trusted, and started looking at different units. Originally I thought I'd like to live in Royal Oak, because it's closer to work and has more young people...but after a while, I realized that choosing a top school district could make reselling my place way easier in the future, so I stuck with Troy. After about a month, I made an offer on a place, but it didn't work out. When you're negotiating with a seller, it's important to make sure the seller isn't crazy or sketchy. In most cases, you're not going to talk to the seller directly, but from their actions and the terms with which they negotiate, you can sort of figure them out. If they seem desperate to sell and insist on selling the place "as is," or if they're super stubborn and refuse to compromise on something perfectly reasonable, it's probably a bad sign. Trouble early on will likely escalate throughout the closing process (which takes longer than you'd think). It's simpler and wiser to walk away unless you're desperate to buy, and I'd never recommend house-hunting in a limited time frame unless there's no other choice. So I kept looking and about one month later, I made an offer on another place. After a bit of negotiating, I got a satisfactory price and hired an inspector, read the bylaws for the condo association, and applied for a mortgage.

An inspector is almost as important as an agent...find someone you trust, preferably with reliable references. A condo differs from a house in that you technically only own the inside of your building. The condo association maintains the exterior, like grass and snow removal etc. and you maintain the interior. Older condos are similar to townhouses in that each unit has its own space, separate from the neighbors. Newer condos in this area are more like apartment buildings, where your floor plan overlaps with your neighbors', so your bedroom might be on top of their living room, which is on top of your garage etc. The newer condos seem nice and look cool, but personally if I own a property, I'd rather not be dependent on neighbors (for example, if they had a leak that damaged one of my walls and caused mold or something). Applying for a mortgage is complicated, and it's the part I understand the least, because of all the numbers/math... Basically the goal is to get as low an interest rate as possible; a higher rate can be offset by a point system, which can be a good option depending on how long you envision staying in that property. Make sure there are no pre-pay penalties or hidden fees--there are always going to be ridiculous fees required for no justifiable reason, but make sure that they are the standard ridiculous fees, not unknown ridiculous fees in addition to the standard ones. It also helps to have a mortgage agent you trust.

It takes a long time for the mortgage to be approved, and it felt longer to me than the house-hunting process, because at least with house-hunting I was busy and somewhat in control of the progress. With the mortgage, I was submitting papers and materials, but I had no idea what they were being used for or how long it would take. During that time, the title company (a third party that sort of oversees the process and provides documentation for the property) does an appraisal of the property. Here's a suspicion of mine that not many people may realize--sometimes the title company purposely appraises the property as close to your offer price as possible. The comps they reference in the report are skewed in a way to make you think you got a great deal. In mine, they only included comps that sold for higher than my offer price...but if you look at official records, there were plenty of recent comps that sold for lower, which they neglected to include. It wasn't a huge deal for me, so I didn't bother to contest it. But if every dollar matters and you feel this same suspicion when buying a place, it may be worth looking into.

Something else I learned during the closing process is that agents are humans, not machines...they make mistakes, they get emotional, and sometimes they are manipulative. If an agent, whether yours or the seller's, does something strange that makes you feel guilty or uncomfortable, don't accept it. Your agent should never pressure you into buying a place, and the seller's agent should never directly contact you at all. I didn't have a problem with my agent, so I don't have advice for that except not to hire them if they're untrustworthy... But I do have advice if the seller's agent does something out of line: if it doesn't directly concern you, stay out of it and let your agent deal with it, because that's his/her job. If the seller's agent makes false accusations against you specifically, it may be wise to calmly/briefly refute them in a written record. Not only will it protect you in case the issue comes up again, but it also shows you weren't born yesterday and are not willing to be pushed around.

Finally, there's the closing date, when everyone--seller, buyer, agents, title company, mortgage company, friends and family if you wish--comes together to sign papers and hand over the down payment. You realize that the names you kept seeing on the forms and using during negotiations are actually connected to human beings with lives and personalities...and you also sign a TON of papers. Be prepared for awkwardness...it's inevitable. But if you're lucky, you'll talk to the sellers about the property, which can be invaluable...and at the end of the day, you'll have a new home (along with a substantially diminished savings account and an intimidating ever-growing to-do list).

I never imagined I'd buy my own place a) at this age and b) by myself. On HGTV, the buyers are usually young couples who just got married or are planning to have kids...and my agent told me I'm the youngest client she's ever had. It wasn't like I needed to buy a place; I could easily have found a satisfactory apartment. But besides for wanting a dog, I chose to buy instead of rent because factors like location, the housing market, and my financial status were in my favor. Houses in this area are pretty inexpensive, and although it costs a little extra to fix up the house and maintain it well, it'll be worth it when I resell or rent it out in the future...whereas with an apartment or rental property, I'd just be paying money without investing in anything. And it's a good learning experience at this point in my life, when I can really concentrate without the distraction of kids or job-hunting etc. If you're not interested in buying a place at all, this entry was probably super boring. But if you are considering it and want to know more, I hope it was helpful! There are plenty of websites with suggestions for the house-hunting/purchasing process, but maybe there are a few beneficial things here that you won't find anywhere else. :)

Guilt

In a linguistics class I took for two weeks at Rice U (before sheepishly yet wisely dropping it), I learned that in the most primitive human language, only three emotions were designated words. The first two emotions were predictably "happy" and "angry," but the third surprised me--"guilty." I wasn't able to understand this until something weird and random  happened today.

There is an intersection on my way home from work where, during daytime and decent weather, I almost always see a homeless man. I've started recognizing faces, because it's usually the same couple people who take turns standing there. There are two general types of homeless people--loud and crazy ones that make a scene or try to approach you, and sad quiet ones with downcast eyes that mutely hold up their signs. The first type scares me, but the latter breaks my heart. And there's something about seeing the same person consistently suffering, that makes it more unforgettable.
I was taught by my parents never to give money to homeless people, because you don't know what they'll spend it on. Over winter break, I tried to learn knitting, because I thought maybe I could knit scarves for these people, giving them something more useful and meaningful than spare change. Sadly, my knitting progress has been very slow...I completed about half a scarf, and then I ran out of yarn and couldn't find the same color... (I do hope that I can finish this scarf at least by next winter.) A few weeks ago, I remembered this idea a couple people at NEC had, where we'd make sandwiches and go around giving them to homeless people. It was one of the best things I've ever been involved in, so recently I've been bringing an extra sandwich to work every day that we have lunch break. For some reason, each time I did that, there was nobody at the intersection when I was driving home, so I just ended up eating both sandwiches...
Then, this morning we had a concert. On Friday morning concerts, there are usually free donuts in the musicians' lounge, and oftentimes that is the highlight of my week, especially when they have my favorite kind (plain and glazed). Today there were three giant baskets of donuts left over after the concert, so I went into pig mode and ate two, saving a third for later. (On a side note, yesterday I took an online quiz called "What Is Your Spirit Animal?" and asked S what he guessed my result was. Without hesitation, he said, "Pig." At least he's honest, but the real result was "Bear.") Later as I drove toward the aforementioned intersection, I saw one of the homeless guys there, and I suddenly thought, "Wait, I have an extra donut! I can give that to him!" I hadn't touched it, and hopefully he wouldn't think it was rude...I mean, whenever someone gives me a free donut, I'm elated. Timing was perfect, so that the traffic light was red and I was stopped about eight feet away from him.
For reasons absolutely incomprehensible to me, I froze. All I could do was look at him, and I swear we made really long eye contact while my heart raced and palms sweated. I stared his cardboard sign, which said the usual things--homeless, anything will help, God bless...I stared at his dirty clothes and grey hair, and I stared at his vacant defeated eyes. The seconds ticked by, the traffic light turned green, and before I knew it, the moment had passed, I'd failed to act, and was driving past him.
Why did I do that???
It wasn't like I had nothing to offer, it wasn't like I was too far away, or it was a green light and people were honking at me, or that he seemed dangerous or sketchy, or that I had doubts about helping him. It would have been so easy for me to just roll down my window, hand him the food, smile, and drive away. But instead I did nothing, and I have NO IDEA why.
On the highway, I kept picturing his face in my mind, remembering how he leaned on a cane, and how the tattered cardboard sign hung limply from his grasp, and with each new detail recalled to his image, I felt worse. I wanted to cry, and when I called my mom on speaker phone to tell her what happened, I did cry. She was totally bewildered as I blubbered and sniffled. "Are you driving right now?" she asked incredulously, and when I said yes, she was all, "Are you crazy? You shouldn't be thinking about this while you're driving. If you want to feel bad, wait until you're safely home!" She asked if something else had gone wrong, and I answered that no, I'd had a perfectly good day up until then. After I calmed down, she told me, "Sometimes it's nice to help someone, but if you don't, it's okay too." She said the government should be fixing this problem, not me, and if nobody gives to these people, maybe they'll find better alternatives to improve their situation. They shouldn't be encouraged to rely on charity. Also, she said it's dangerous to interact with possibly unstable people, especially while driving.
After we hung up, I was still distracted and sad. I missed my highway exit, and it took an extra ten or fifteen minutes to get home.
It's stupid and simply weird/anomalous for me to feel SO guilty over such a little thing...in general, I'm a pretty practical person who has her emotions in check. But I guess when it comes to helping the less fortunate, I don't think there's ever a "little" thing, because you never know what tiny act of kindness could change someone else's life. It's not like handing that man a tasty dessert would have drastically altered his circumstance or prevented him from going hungry ever again, but maybe it would have lifted his spirits. I had an opportunity to do good, yet I didn't, and I just don't understand why.

Guilt is a complicated and fascinating phenomenon...in a way, it's self-centered, because we're thinking about ourselves and our own shame/faults/flaws. At the same time, it connects us to things outside of ourselves and demonstrates our innate morality, the ability to define an objective right and wrong. To me, this is an ultimate proof of a supreme being, because where does morality come from, if not Him? Even the most primitive humans identified guilt, knowing evil is wrong and good is right.
Another thing about guilt is, it's sneaky--you don't know how powerful it is until it hits you. I'm writing about guilt, but I don't even really know what it feels like on a larger scale. To me, guilt means cruel words that escaped my mouth when I was angry, forgetting about God in an obsession over myself, not helping others when I had the chance, and other stuff that's private. And if I were to draw a pie chart of all the emotions I've felt in my life, I'd say yeah, guilt consists of app. one-third, because it's unforgettable...it stays with me no matter what. I can't imagine how torturous guilt from more lasting/impacting crimes must be.
I suppose some people are more sensitive to guilt than others, and there are those few infamous figures that appear(ed) to feel barely any guilt at all, no matter how deplorable their actions. Still, I think it affects us all, whether or not we are open about it. To err is human, and with erring comes guilt...but the beautiful silver lining of guilt shows that despite how inexplicably, bizarrely, perversely, or foolishly wrong humans can be, the little spark of light that is our desire to be good shines on.