Try New Things, They Said. It Will Be Fun, They Said.

It's been a month since I left on my trip to move out here. The whole experience of moving to a state I've never been, starting a real-person job at a big-ass company... all new. And along the way, everyone kept telling me, "Have fun! Try new things!", as though trying new things would immediately lead me to the magical world of fun. Well ya know what? You all are a bunch of goddamn liars!!

For every new thing I've tried, not one of these activities inherently led me to have a good time. The people I'm with were sometimes pretty alright, but for the most part, really people? Try new things. I don't think so. 

New Activity #1: Make new friends with your coworkers!

My company has 10,000+ employees.  I figured it won't be too hard to meet someone I get along with. One day on the bus home, I was reading comics on my laptop and started to laugh. The guy sitting across from me asked, "What's funny?". I showed him the cartoon and we had a short and polite conversation about which department we work for, what building we work in, which neighborhood we live in, where we come from, etc. I learned that he moved to here pretty recently and he's eager to meet people and make new friends. Before getting off the bus, he asked me for my name and I obliged. That night, he looked up my work IM screen name, my work e-mail address, my work phone number, my internal work profile, my Facebook, my Google Plus, my personal e-mail, my Skype name, and (just a guess at this point) my blog. 

So if you're reading this, Carlos, here's a message: YOU SEEM LIKE A PERFECTLY NICE PERSON, BUT YOU ARE SERIOUSLY CREEPING ME OUT. 

So yeah, make new friends? Not fun. 


New Activity #2: Rock Climbing

Because I don't know too many folks, when 4 people I know decide to do something and invite me along, I say 'yes', and assume that the 'Try new things = have fun' rule applies. So when a few kids that I know and (kind of) like wanted to go rock climbing, I figure it couldn't have been too bad. 

We went here: 

Planet Granite in nearby Sunnyvale. The place is great! It's a huge gym with the capacity to have a lot of people climbing at once and a lot of activity. We first took a quick safety course, because forcing a person to take a 20-minute intro to tying knots means that you should be plenty safe if you put your life in their hands... right? I signed a liability waiver. I learned the fine art of belaying and after our (prep for the oxymoron) RIPPED & GINGER climbing instructor set us free, I figured I'd try climbing a wall. Here's the thing: you don't quite notice how high up you are until it's time to go down. And then you remember that the person you're counting on to safely lower you from 100+ feet down to the ground has only known how to do that for 30 minutes. NOT FUN. 

When I was finally down to the ground and done shaking, we decided to switch to climbing some of the smaller, non-roped walls, called boulders, that only go up around 15-20 feet. No longer paralyzed by the fear of plunging 100 feet to my death (at this point I could only break an arm or something)... I recognized something. No matter how much I hate this activity, after a year of aggressively attacking pull-ups and free weights, pulling my own weight up a wall isn't that much of a challenge. I'm pretty good at it. And it's not a bad thing to be good at! Consider the situation where you have to climb up a cliff. It's pretty imperative at that point that you can do it right. So in general, turns out I'm pretty good at something that I don't like doing and that made me sore for three straight days! (my arms are still in pain). 

Activity #3: The Santa Cruz Annual Clam Chowder Festival

This was another activity where the people were great, but the activity was just awful. The experience as a whole can be described in this image:

So we got down to Santa Cruz a little early to get tickets and find some brunch. 

First, we bought our soup-tasting kits. Each kit consisted of a little bowl and spoon, 5 tickets for samples of chowder, and two little ballots so that you can vote for your favorite chowder. Because nothing sounds more fun on a 70 degree day than eating lots and lots of thick, creamy, buttery soup in a large thick, buttery crowd. 

We decided to step off of the boardwalk for breakfast. This place included mimosas. Nice. 

So then we started to walk around the Santa Cruz boardwalk and festival 

Pretty soon, it was a super-packed festival of bad puns. 

There were easily some 40+ soup stands, and we made a lot of vagina puns. Decided that if I ever wanted to put a soup in this contest, everyone staffing the stand would wear giant, fake facial hair and call ourselves 'The Bearded Clam'. Gross, sorry. 

Some of the chowders were pretty tasty, some were novel (green chowder, chowder with Mexican flair...), and some were pretty bad. But it was really packed full of people that need to discover deodorant, I got kind of sick of chowder, and I wasn't into it.

Activity #4: Bollywood Dance Class

I should've known that this was a bad idea when I walked in and the front row of people were all brown. My equally awkward friend joined me, and we stood in the back, thinking that no one will notice if we observe a little more than participate. 

False. 

Because in walked the instructor, Mala. 90 pounds of pure terror who spent the hour screaming at us to 'GO HARD!!' no matter how obvious it was that I have no idea what I'm doing. 

I learned all of the Bollywood dance moves:

1). Jump up and down
2). Jump side to side
3). Flail your arms
4). Squat
5). Flail your arms while jumping up and down
6). Flail your arms while jumping side to side
7). Flail your arms while squatting
8). Jump while squatting while flailing your arms

I think I qualified as the definition of an awkward white person. It was a wonderful cardio workout. The music was loud and rhythmic. You get in a great workout when the tiny instructor is barking at you to pick your feet up higher, and you're willing to try as hard as you can muster just to stop feeling so damn awkward. In that class, I guess it doesn't matter what you do as long as you do it very aggressively.

Otherwise, things are all right. As predicted, I have remained far too lazy to move the giant pile of cardboard. My plants are still alive. I've started keeping things in my fridge, although I've nearly never had to cook for myself. 

I'll continue to try some new stuff while I try to find my way around this weird, weird place. Maybe I'll like something.

"...and I Know How to Use All of Those Inches"

This past week has been overwhelming. It was my first week working at Google, my first week pretending to be a full-time California resident, and my first week not spending all of my time setting up my place to live... it was my first week living in it. Naturally, there are some things I have yet to accomplish... like forking out some $1200 on a couch, and the cardboard boxes remain in their ever-growing pile on the floor.

I like them being there. It's a visual excuse for any visitors that hopefully shouts, "Don't judge the fact that I haven't gotten my shit together... I just built this furniture!" or "Please pardon my pathetic attempt at interior decorating, I need to rub it in that I'm new here!". Not like I have any visitors anyway, but I'm getting the feeling that this beloved pile of cardboard will remain on my floor for just a little longer than I'd care to admit.

But fuck the cardboard, I know what you're all thinking... because it's reflected in nearly all of my text messages for the past 3 days: how was your first week of work??

The answer?

Staggering. Google is a large company, on a large campus, and it's unlike any employer I've ever joined.

Of course, I had to start my time there with a bitchin' outfit.

But it was a lot of orientation to a unique place with a brilliant company culture. I got to meet a lot of fellow 'Nooglers' (what newbies) are called, I got to meet a lot of my coworkers, and I spent a lot of time getting lost on campus while riding some very silly-looking company-provided bikes.

And much like any well-together company, they made me feel very welcome:

But it was really weird. I kept comparing my current environment to my former one... it's another tech shop, it's another new place, once again I'm working with software folks.  I'm totally terrified of ending up in another situation where I'm constantly terrified that I'm not doing enough, and I get home from work so tense and nervous that it wasn't until Sunday night when my shoulders would finally relax. Because it's another tech shop I had the same fear that because I am not an engineer, I would once again be put in a situation where my work doesn't matter or affect change. But orientation and my first meeting with my manager quickly dispelled those fears. And having successfully survived that first week, I earned a Noogler cap of my very own.

My week left me with some cool new folks to hang out with, and as a small group we spent our first post-work Friday night at the local Imax theater seeing 'It's a Good Day to Die Hard', because explosions. Saturday brought about errands... getting the Mini a checkup before eventually trying to get her through Cali emissions-check... waiting for the cable guy to show up so that I can have TV and internet (I'm blogging from home... it's amazing). Evening was out with some of the same folks, which was kind of informative. The reason why we hang out is because we're all newbies in some sense, either to this state or this company. And I'm learning that means the only thing we all really have in common is that we love technology and we all got through a bear of an interview process. But outside of that, conversation took some work. I had to be extra outgoing, which can be tiring. I like them all. Now that I've gotten to know each of them a little bit, I'm getting to know when and how each of them would fit into my friend circle. Like, this person's very energetic, don't call them if you feel like sitting around and watching movies. This person's a super-geek, call them if you need a partner in video-gaming. This person's very sarcastic, don't call them if you've had a bad day and need some empathy.

It mostly drives me to miss my Cleveland friends.  I got a really lovely surprise on Valentine's Day when John sent me a dozen roses.

John's the guy that I was seeing before I moved. Seeing the box arrive at my door, I was shocked that someone else remembered the holiday, because I, caught up in the details of the move, definitely didn't. I know it's dorky, but it's nice that someone outside of my parents remembered me.

On Sunday morning, I met up with Rachel and her hubby, Dave to do some exploring! The target was the San Jose flea market, following an initial coffee and breakfast break.

This place was rad.

Except the $7 parking... but it's totally worth it.

You enter, and it's a bunch of booths of different vendors selling absolutely everything imaginable, from foods to used tools to clothing to stolen electronics to housewares. 

Of particular note were the big-booty mannequins that displayed $10 pants. I'll have to stop by for a pair of those if I truly gain the Google 20. The mix of Asian and Latino influence made the market a really interesting ethnic atmosphere. The day was gorgeous, kids were running about shouting of 'pina' (Spanish for pineapple), and I was impressed by the wide range of wares available.

Every state needs a baby Jesus mart. 

But the fantastic produce market was really the winner. 

 I purchased some delicious mini-avocados and awesome fresh mango... a lot of fruit... for less than I've seen prices in Ohio.

Each booth put out some samples of their fare sprinkled with cayenne pepper. Spicy food is one of the many perks of having a strong Latino influence in the community. 

This toilet-paper-holding bear made perfect sense. 

That afternoon, I ventured North towards Berkeley to see an old friend that is up there with the Teach For America program. It was great to see her. After awhile, we hit up Jupiter, a really cool brewpub/pizza joint that had the coolest outdoor porch. 

Berkeley's a very hipster-ish town. I saw a lot of wing tips and plaid and stores selling used books and clothing. I also saw a posted earthquake warning, which to me was fantastically novel. 

That night, I was planning on meeting someone I kind-of know and his brother at a bar in downtown San Jose. However, he didn't show, the bro did show, and I was the only one in this situation that didn't know that this was a blind date. He was really awkward and really sarcastic to the point of being rude. I smiled politely and asked nice questions, and he said that with my new job and new salary that I should probably buy a weed farm and give him as much marijuana as possible or that with my new income I could probably just do a lot of cocaine and spend my free time pretending it was the 80's. Obviously, I was set up with a winner. And all throughout our awkward and pathetic conversation, this old Eastern-European guy, dressed in his gold-chained best, kept bugging us about  how to use the juke box, how Ryan (my setup) found such a pretty girl, and where he could find such a pretty girl... because... and I quote, "...<he has> six inches and I know how to use all of those inches".

Oh dear god. Really?

After about 2 awkward and terrible hours, I think he got the feeling that I wasn't really into it, he said (on a Sunday night) that his boss just texted him (from the job he just left) and he had to go ship some stuff... at like 9pm on a Sunday night. Dude, if you're going to lie, at least do it well. But before he left, he was polite enough to offer me some Mary Jane. I declined.

Following that experience, I needed a drink. So I sat at the bar and took the time to appreciate where I was. It was a bar. But not like most of the bars I'd seen here, it was very non-pretentious without being hipster, it was very clean, and it was a pretty great hole-in-the-wall dive. I liked the place, and the juke box was playing a semi-obscure band that I happen to love. I started talking to the bartendress, who was mid-wedding planning, and I met the guy that was controlling the flow of tunes. He saw and heard the whole of my failed blind date and made fun me for it. Then we talked a little bit. He's a well-mannered Texas boy that went to Wharton up in Phillie before getting recruited into a Silicon Valley tech shop. We liked a lot of the same bands and some of the same movies, and he knew the offerings of the city well. It was the first organic friend that I've made in the area - the first person that I wasn't referred to by someone I know or wasn't someone I work with. This is a milestone. We're going to hang out again, and I look forward to having a friend that knows the bay's punk scene. 

But after a busy Sunday, for my President's day off, I needed to do something relaxing and something alone. So after my laundry was done, I drove up to Santa Teresa to go for a run on their trails. I read online that they're not too intense, which was comforting since it's been over a month since I've run more than 4 miles. It was a little overcast, but the grounds were gorgeous, and very well cared for. While I was running, I stopped to take a few photos.

Here's a flock of wild turkeys. 

This was the view from the top of the Eastern ridge. 

From the peak.

 And on the way down. 

Some deer near the entrance to the women's correctional facility.

The place was great, and I remembered how refreshing and relaxing it is to be running in nature. I decided that whenever I don't have plans, provided it isn't raining, I'm going to pick a bunch of parks and run everything. I'll build up to some of the monstrous 22 mile mountain runs.

Tomorrow begins another work week. As my nerves relax, I'm getting more excited to see what it holds. I like knowing people in the area, and I like making plans and having more and more people to do things with. 

Also, as an exciting update, it's been nearly two weeks, and I haven't killed any of my plants. 

Revolving Doors: End of Journey/First Day Jitters

Day #8 Miles: 246

Day #8 States: California

States Total: 13

Ohio
Kentucky
Tennessee
Georgia
Alabama
Mississippi
Louisiana
Texas
Oklahoma
New Mexico
Arizona
Nevada
California

Mileage Total: 3081 miles

So I'm here. Been here for a few days, but with no internet connection in my apartment, blogging becomes difficult. So I'm sitting in the "Cafe" area of the Safeway grocery store in my neighborhood, enjoying the free wifi and taking a second to write. It's been a trying few days. 

Let's start with the travel. 

I woke up, got coffee-ed and fueled in Bakersfield, CA... which was obviously a super-classy place (see below).

And then I drove through California, which is a lot of farmland leading up to rolling hills and mountains nearing the water. 

Hands down, the worst part of the trip was driving past the commercial cattle factory (not pictured above due to sheer disgust). Thousands and thousands of cows in a confined space. I turned off the music in the car and for miles just listened to the noises of pained mooing. And the smell. Dear lord, the smell! It was methane gas and fertilizer and the smell of something rotting for miles. It was disgusting, and sad to see. They barely had room to walk around and the ground was just brown with shit and mud. No grazing. No pasture. Horrifying. Made the executive decision to never farm cattle for a living. In fact, the next time I see a cow, I'm giving him a $20. He's had a hard life. 

But soon enough I arrived at my new place of living. I remain skeptical to call it home.

The grounds are great, the building is great, and everything went just fine. It was just very, eerily empty. Like it wasn't a place where a person was intended to live. Sounds echoed lightly off the walls and high ceilings, and the balcony overlooks the road out front where cars speed past going to things and accomplishing normal, adult tasks like functioning people. Because they aren't new here. They aren't lost. They aren't transplants.

Before my stuff arrived, I did what I could to make it feel homey. 

But urban camping is far from cozy. 

So before my stuff arrived, I did what anyone would do: I bought some food, I bought some supplies (like toilet paper), and I watched a guy rob a Target. No really. Nothing makes you feel comfortable and at home like watching a man walk through a Target with a backpack, loading it up at every opportunity, and then run past the cash registers and out the door past security guards that just nodded their heads as if to say, "Well shit, that happens every day. Too bad". 

I also spent a lot of time at Ikea, where I purchased a lot of new furniture, which prompted my aunt and cousin to come over and help me build everything. 

And because my aunt visited, now the edible contents of my apartment include instant coffee, yogurt, and.... 5 bottles of wine. Just a casual housewarming gift, you know? Although drinking heavily would be my typical response to this level of emotional stress, it doesn't really appeal to me right now. I'm so desperate to find something inspiring or comforting or funny that I don't want to get wined up and miss it. 

My stuff arrived 2 days ago, and I met one neighbor while unloading things, but I don't know his apartment number or phone number, so I still can't call them a friend. Or call them at all. Getting everything inside quickly was a relief, because sleeping on a bed is important. It was more cozy than sleeping in a bag on the floor, but the red pattern of my comforter looked strange and out of place in this new apartment. It did make my back feel a lot better. 

I visited and shopped with two soon-to-be coworkers that I met through my recruiter who are also new to the area. I also spent some time with Rachel and Dave, friends of a friend, and their delightful pooch, Tater. He's fat and adorable. Rachel introduced me to the best coffee in the area:

But ending a long journey, arriving in a new place, moving into a new apartment, urban camping, unloading, unpacking, trying to make some empty rooms feel homey, and trying to work up the nerve to show up for a new job... it's exhausting both physically and emotionally. 

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't spent an hour up last night at 1am (4am Cleveland time) sobbing. And not the delicate, ladylike sobbing that you see on TV. The kind of sobbing where your abs hurt afterwards from hunching over and your mouth is open wide, but you can't quite take in enough air to scream, so you sound like a tea kettle. And everything you're wearing gets soaked with tears and boogers and sweat. The kind of sobbing that's physically exhausting, and when you can finally peel yourself off of the floor all you feel is cold and clammy and empty. I spent 30 minutes using every resource I knew to find someone that would be awake so I could have someone to talk to. But I have no internet in my apartment. And bad cell reception. So I fell asleep alone, covered in boogers, crying while looking at pictures of my dearly missed dog, that I won't get to snuggle with for maybe months. 

It's disorienting. Looking at Twitter and seeing friends out with friends, having fun and being social and feeling disconnected from the world you knew. I had family nearby, I had friends I love dearly, I had coworkers that were among the best people in the world. And now I know 4 people that live within a 30 minute drive. So I started to question everything. 'Sure, I was seriously unhappy with my job, but the people I worked with were amazing and I knew how things worked'. 'Yeah, this is a cool opportunity, but why would I give up people that have known me forever'. 'Why would I move to a place where it isn't even convenient to talk to my friends from the time difference?'. It's bad. And everyone keeps telling me that it'll get better and I'll meet new friends and I'll find my way around and I'll work things out.

A: "So I'm really stressed out and miserable."
Everyone: "Don't worry! You have hope."

Really people? That doesn't help!

I really appreciate everyone's support. I'm just stressed out because everything is alien. Outside of missing people, I miss knowing how to get places, and knowing where all my crap is, and knowing the sounds the house will make in the middle of the night and knowing how to sit on the counter top in the kitchen so that I don't smack my face on the cabinets (OUCH, by the way). 

So just let me whine for awhile and stress-eat ice cream and get sick from lactose intolerance. I'll wise up and get over it. And as Dan says, I'll... "Start the job and get into a routine. Life will settle in. And it will all make sense again". 

I want it to all make sense again. 

I just sit have to sit with uncertainty. And be scared of the permanence of the situation. 

And quietly accept that my apartment is where cardboard boxes go to die. 

NOTE: A lot of people have asked if, post-journey, I'll be continuing this blog. I will. But entries will be less regular and the topics will be less consistently travel-related. But it's a great place to post pictures of life and write the contents of a very full brain. So, if you like, check back soon!