Winter in fifteen paragraphs.

Maybe I will work backwards.

Today is January 1, 2009, meaning last night was New Year's Eve. We hosted a party and, per usual, I worried excessively about what to wear, feared no one would come (or they would come and marvel at their awful luck in finding the worst party ever), and Brian and I argued over what champagne to buy at Costco.

The party began at 8, so Jill showed up at 8:30 and was the only person there for 20 minutes. Then Sarah showed up with three friends (made me feel very popular and briefly nervous), then Nate, Melissa, and a friend of theirs, then Trevor and Matt, then a friend of Jill's. Watched my Martha appearance (felt relieved people are not appalled by the nerdiness of this), Taboo, people left, more arrived, entertaining post-midnight call from Sarah snd friends, Melissa and Buster fell asleep, a stranger vomited on the bath rug, Rock Band. 3 am approached, and I began clearing empty glasses and crushed crackers from the table, which I felt was a perfectly obvious hint that the two-hour second round of Taboo should end. Everyone eventually put on their shoes and left. Happy 2009.

Snow fell from the middle of the month through Christmas, and I spent a stressful 24 hours from Christmas Eve to mid-Christmas day calling my mom and sister and changing our minds about whether Brian and I should brave Darrington's feet of snow and roads of ice. I didn't mind so much when, on Christmas Eve, mom called and said we should postpone. I've no particular sentimentality for dates. Then mom called again, late, and in her most Lifetime-Original-Movie-Not-Without-My-Daughters voice, said we would have Christmas together. At 9 am the next day, Caitie called to say it the snow was horrendous and she was afraid she'd be trapped in Darrington. I cried, felt like I'd failed the entire holiday season by being the only one absent. Mom gave the phone to Caitie, who reassured me. Brian and I stayed home, and I baked endlessly. I licked ganache from the spatula and gained five pounds.

In December, I went to the office seven days. We were closed for two of those, closed early a couple times, and generally dead the rest.

I hate the need to reiterate so much that I can't choose my words better. This feels like the Cliff Notes version of my life.

I spent two and a half weeks on vacation, visiting the friends who've left me for the northeast. Jill, Boston, and Northampton, MA were last. The cuteness of Northampton made me question my city-focused single-mindedness. Then, I've never been patriotic, or awed by US History, but felt both proud and impressed to see the site of the first public school (Boston). The Harvard campus was less interesting. The cold there made me want to cry.

I wasted time in Manhattan, but was glad for the freedom to do it. Natural History Museum, Whitney, wandered Greenwich, saw Willem DeFoe at an art opening in Chelsey, drank far too much coffee, drank far too much vodka at least once, spent all my money on food, only took the wrong train once, saw a couple Daily friends and slept one one's couch, was asked for directions many times and felt very New York about it, walked through Central Park and Macy's, slept in and went to bed late, drank wine and talked to Kelsey about men and books and birth control.

Also, went to a Martha Stewart taping and had my very own question selected as the first to be asked. Most exciting moment ever.

It was wet-snowy and cold, and I spent almost no time with Sarah, but Ann Arbor was great for wandering by myself after a couple days of constant contact with the six other people staying in Lysondra's Chicago studio. The law quad of Michigan is the perfect image of College Campus.

Chicago. Thanksgiving was basically over by the time I showed up (Sarah had already passed out tipsy and re-awoken once). I sat on the floor and ate pie, then we went out. My first night out in ages, it felt epic and fantastic. Great to meet new people, though a studio is a bit cozy for seven of us and it's not as great to be the only person who doesn't know everyone else so well. The last day, everyone but two of us went to the library, so we went to the Chicago Art Institute then walked around for far too long before meeting everyone else for dinner Greek - drinking ouzo with Sarah reminded me of Berlin. 

So that's how I spent 2 1/2 weeks.

My memory gets fuzzy this far back, but I assume Autumn quarter ended well. I had two seminar courses to lead, Women in CSE and a new freshmen seminar (19 men, 1 woman). 

I hosted Thanksgiving for the first time, and everything went well enough. My parents look significantly older every time I see them -- the way small children grow so quickly, they seem to be shrinking, wrinkling, speaking differently. My birthday passed without acclaim. 

Obama was elected president. We drank champagne, relieved and excited for change.

Autumn Tour of Friends Who've Left Me

I bought plane tickets to Chicago and New York! That's half the transportation for my Autumn Tour of Friends Who've Left Me. I'll buy tickets from Manhattan to Northampton and home from Boston once Jill confirms exactly which days she'll be available -- hopefully soon. The Alaska flight I want home is still empty, but I don't want to wait too long.

Autumn quarter will be exciting, and will go very quickly, but right now November 27th seems a very long way away. I didn't realize till now that I'm exactly 3 months away (or, was yesterday) from departure.

I'm already planning what to pack. I hope to take only a large purse + carry on. Lysondra says she's heard horror stories of Chicago winter, and I can't imagine NYC or Boston will be any warmer. I plan boots and sweaters and maybe skirts with thick tights. Pants would be warmer, but I hate that they drag in puddles. And, of course, the big MJ coat I found at the Rack a few weeks ago. I wore it around the house last night, watching Sex and the City and cleaning my closet.

I called my mom to tell her we'd need to reschedule Thanksgiving, and she said, in a very low voice, "Ooh, Raven!" Though I don't think it's a huge deal, Thanksgiving is her favorite holiday. But it felt kind of good to elicit some response beyond our usual polite conversation, to be the high-maintenance daughter for once. Caitie just turned 21, and has started skydiving. It's hard to compete with that.

Scheduling time with friends made me feel a bit like a parent juggling favorite siblings -- on my spreadsheet of expenses, timeline, and details, I charted how many days I'd get to spend with everyone. Manhattan and Kelsey win by a landslide -- I can explore easiest on my own while Kelsey and Graham are at work, Brian will hopefully come for part, and Manhattan is of course the most exciting place. Half my time with Sarah and Jill will be spent in the smaller college towns of Ann Arbor, MI and Northampton, MA. Of NoHo (as Jill called it), I've only heard one vivid description: the dustiness of a bookstore.

Nonetheless! I am enthused to visit friends, and cities with a history. The Wikitravel page for Boston talks about the battles of Lexington and Concord, and the first public school in the States. It makes me want to read some Sarah Vowel on the plane.

Vancouver is excellent. I was quite tired of work by the end of last week, and I think the fancy times up here with Brian this weekend, plus the work-related medium-fancy times of the conference the next couple days will be a perfect little break.

Lots of walking around and eating out with Brian. A very disjointed drive up Saturday (stops for UPS, coffee, gas, bagels, lunch with Caitie, waiting at the boarder), then we explored a little, then had excellent tasty dinner + drinks at some bistro between on the cusp of the sketchy neighborhood.

Sunday: breakfast of perfectly almost-over-toasted French toast, then a shoe-buying expedition, then the newly-remodeled aquarium and a drive through the park.

It was chilly, but stayed dry until we found the craft commune of Granville Island -- drizzly is not good for tourism. We forced ourselves to walk through the little village of arts and nicknacks until early dinner. Excellent bread and Canadian peach cider, good crab cake to start, but some kind of weird bits in one of my scallops that I may never get over. If this city has ruined scallops for me, I firmly take back my "Vancouver is excellent."

Today, Pookie left at 8ish, so I got ready for a big day of no plans. Realized I left accidentally sent my umbrella home in the car, so went out and bought a new (and better) one at some drug store. Certainly, in Canada I've heard more sales rep and cashier people with clear recently-immigrated accents than I've ever heard ever in the states.

Tried shopping, but nothing peaked my interest until ... Zara. What a mecca! Everything beautiful! How have I spent years shopping and never seen this place? Everything gorgeous but reasonably priced, trendy but not cheapo, good quality, decent fit. Had to visit the fitting room twice to try everything on. And, wonderfully, went out today thinking of a trench coat, and came back with a perfect one. Love a belted waist and a big collar. Somehow, though, managed moderation and only bought three things: that coat, dark work pants, and a little black casual dress. Has bows at the waist. Possibly I'll be drawn back in for some shoes before I leave -- there were some amazing ones, if only they have my size ...

The Vancouver Art Gallery coat check lady was one of the rudest service people I've ever encountered, and we barely spoke. I can only guess she was jealous of my fabulous hair. The building is lovely -- very nice to see how a piece of classical architecture fits seamlessly in a very modern-architecture city. Some video installation, some tree stuff, much pictorialism that I looked through diligently without being moved. Was worth $15 because I had nothing better to do and it could be considered a donation toward Art.

Finally it was time for some work-related mingling. Flatironed my hair, then went cashless to the foyer on the third floor, where I clinged to the first group of approachable ladies I saw, until I heard the bar was accepting debit cards. Got me a G+T, then clumped with UW advisers till someone suggested we head to the hotel bar. Had another couple rounds and talked about college-related stuff there till someone suggested we go to bed. Now here I am. Typing way past my bedtime.

Darrington today. Left around 11:30, arrived around 1:30, with a slight delay for Starbucks.


The weather was nice and the visit was short. Caitie arrived just after Brian, Buster, and me.
Said hello to everyone, spent a little time inside talking to mom, looking at a box of cookbooks she was sending home with me, and the quilt she finished for us -- pinks and purples and blacks and creams, with lots of hearts and words quilted in. Across the bottom, she wrote, "Small quilts help keep you close."

My mom and stepdad have 10 acres, a log house built by a logger who was a pretty big name in the early days of the town. Flower and herb and vegetable gardens, a river a few minutes through the woods, wild bunnies and birds and porcipines, occasional bear. The driveway overlooks Whitehorse mountain.



Buster's rarely off-leash -- I like to hope apartment puppies don't know what they're missing. He didn't go outside until I led him to the back, to introduce him to the chickens. We found them retreating behind a tree, but Buster drove them out in a flurry of flapping wings and squalking -- I've never seen him run so fast. Like the crafty hyena on Planet Earth, he seperated one from the pack chased it across the lawn, where it brilliantly cornered itself behind a potted plant an a shovel. They had a bit of a stand off, until Buster was distracted and the chicken ran home.



Dinner, acorn squash from mom's garden, pie from Caitie's restaurant, then the drive back. With one more stop at Starbucks.

PS.

We bought our tickets to New York yesterday! And when I say "bought" I really mean we used a few thousand of Brian's parents' 180,000 frequent flier miles. I won't pretend my excitement at saving $338 doesn't overshadow the awkward feeling of having taken so much generosity from the Alexanders -- but they still have 141,000+ miles, so I think they'll scrape by.

Kelsey says she has an air-mattress for us in her very pretty new apartment. Flying and staying for free means we'll be able to do many more exciting things there -- in a perfect world, I could drag Brian to The Phantom of the Opera again. If not, there's Les Miserable and Rent and all kinds of little shows. Plus H&M, which I may go into Sunday and emerge from Friday. The irony is, of course, that I've started thinking about what I want to wear in New York, which makes me think maybe I should buy a few new things before we go -- buy things here so I'll have nice things to wear shopping when we get there.

My life is so difficult.