A Day at Lake Merritt

Matt and my’s first official outing was on Saturday.  We ventured to Lake Merritt, the ‘gem of Oakland.  3.4 miles around, the lake sits in the middle of the city, meaning there are a ton of cute shops and restaurants surrounding it. 

We arrived around 10 am and stopped for some coffee at Merritt Station before heading to the farmers market. Lake Merritt has a massive farmers market every Saturday and we wondered around it for almost two hours.  We ended up walking out with some fancy chocolates, apple cider, chicken broth and a cool spinach flatbread thing. Then it was on to the boats! 


We decided to rent a pedal boat, seeing as neither of us possess any kind of sailing skill.  After an hour on the lake, we were sunburned, tired and hungry. We ended up at a restaurant whose name I can’t even begin to remember.  But the food was decent and gave us the much needed energy we needed to go shopping. Tons of interesting stores surround the lake: metaphysical shops, a bookstore (where I only bought TWO books, which is impressive for me), a spice shop and the nicest resale shop I have ever seen were among the highlights of our strolling and window shopping. 

There are so many quirks I’ve noticed throughout California.  Signs that read, “Proudly Progressive” and “Immigrants Welcome” are pasted in shop windows and on streetlights. Local businesses use their storefronts as a space for political engagement, something I’ve only seen a handful of times in Oklahoma. Solar panels cover roofs and professional looking paintings are splattered under overpasses and along random columns of cement. Everywhere you look, you see something worth calling home about. 

We’ve officially finished week one. So, closing thoughts from week one: The cool breeze that rolls in here at night after the sun comes down makes the whole trip worth it. 

Advertisements

Two Okies in California 

Look out San Francisco Bay, we have arrived! After 24 hours of driving, weird Airbnb hosts and non-stop Hispanic radio stations, we have finally settled in Oakland, California, our home for the next two months.

Hawk enjoying her first view of California

The drive itself had its ups and downs (and not just because we were driving through the mountains 😏). Long stints with no radio stations and a sleeping co-pilot often made it feel as if we were stuck in some never ending time loop. However, the scenery was nice, transitioning between mountains and deserts beautifully. Thankfully we have been through Arizona and New Mexico before, so we didn’t have to skip any big sights. When we finally reached California, we still had eight hours of driving ahead of us. Someone told us we would feel like we were in California forever, and they were definitely right.

All smiles on our way through Cali

Southern California is no joke. Everything is high: tensions, temperatures and gas prices.  I was so relived to finally start seeing orchards and grass again as we ventured North. Pulling into the driveway of our new home was both a blessing and a curse.  We had finally arrived, but we quickly discovered we have no idea how to park on the 90 degree hills littering Northern California. HILLS EVERYWHERE. But I’ll write about that later. Onto our accommodations!


Ney Farm is a gem.  Unassumingly seated on an average Oakland street, the house hosts a small farm out back, with chickens, flowers and fruit trees.  Five of the six bedrooms hold people like us: travelers, renting the space. The last room belongs to the house manager, Benjamin, a man who can stand on his head and loves French press coffee. The house is covered in windows, most of which are always open due to the lack of air conditioning (Northern Californians are weird). Hawk loves the windows, of course.

After we settled into our room, we ventured out for a bite to eat, choosing a restaurant in Oakland called Homeroom, a school themed restaurant that serves fancy mac and cheeses. It was delicious.

We’re now on day 4. Matt’s hard at work with computers and such. I’m attempting to keep our little space clean and our weird dog entertained.  My goal is to write about our adventures twice a week.

Final thought on the first few days: California gas prices are too damn high.

Spitting Image

I’m two, being paraded around to the out-of-town family. My face is hot as people I’ve never met tell me how excited they are to finally meet me. I cling to my father’s side, staring at the strange face in front of me.

“You are just the cutest thing. Oh, you look just like your father.”

*

I’m eight, rifling through a box of family photos with my grandmother. I stare amazed at the black, white and sepia images I discover, the names of people I’ve only heard about in old family fables scrawled on the backs. I pull a more recent-looking picture out of the box and see my baby face staring back at me. I pass it to my grandmother.

“Ah, I love this picture of your daddy. You looked just like him when you were that age. I think it’s those big brown eyes y’all have.”

*

I’m fourteen, sitting on the warm grass lawn of the amphitheater. I’ve given Dad the first birthday present I’ve been able to by him straight out of my own pocket: tickets to a Journey concert. We lean together and smile, looking towards the camera phone currently being pointed at us by a kind stranger.

“That’s a great one! Do people ever tell you guys that you look just alike?”

*

I’m seventeen, sitting in the front pew of the funeral home, where the family sits. Pictures of my father and I are positioned next to the flowers at the front, creating an arc of color around the black and red urn. I expect more tears, but I seem to be all out. As Kenny Rogers plays around us, the people in the other pews are encouraged to stand, stopping to offer their condolences to those in the family seats before filing out the door to our right. One of Dad’s friends from high school grabs my hands tightly. They are damp. She places her palms on both of my cheeks, bring her red face up to mine, new tears springing from her eyes.

“My god, you really are the spitting image.”

13 Things I Took for Granted Before I Moved Out

1. Consistent shower temperatures9a7e3660-b39f-0132-46ae-0e9062a7590a.gif

Fighting my shower has just become a part of life. From shivering to flinching away from the boiling heat, being able to just enjoy a shower has become a thing of a past.

2. Clean sheets just being there

tumblr_inline_njkb3ivfhL1raj1ze.gif

No more Mom reminding me to clean my sheets. Wait… When’s the last time I… Yeah, it’s probably time to clean my sheets.

3. Food magically appearing every week or so

tumblr_mjnhmzDtpJ1s8w58xo1_500_zps4a03526c.gif

Things I’m currently out of: Bread, milk, eggs, edible food.

4. Having a washer and dryer inside the house

GzrOb.gif

Walk to laundry facilities, deposit laundry, return an hour later, switch, return an hour later, lug back to upstairs apartment, cry, repeat.

5. Laundry being free

Q86zJ.gif

Need clean clothes for school tomorrow? That’ll be $3 please.

6. Not having to drive to literally everywhere

635879812782921712-2053697902_bridesmaids.gif

Passenger seat, I miss you so much.

7. Going to the movies

raw-2.gif

I could spend $10 on a ticket to the movies… Or I could do three loads of laundry and buy a pack of gum. Damn you, responsibility.

8. Having someone to take care of me when I’m sick

cameron-im-dying.gif

Making your own soup and riving yourself to CVS to buy NyQuil reeeeeally sucks.

9. Cable TV

raw-3.gif

With thing like Netflix, buying cable seems obsolete. But man I miss those Dr. Phil marathons.

10. Having enough people around to play a real board game

ben-settlers-gif.gif

There’s only so many games you can play with two people.

11. Backyards

giphy-25.gif

I mean, I could sit at the picnic table in the common area. But it’ll never be the same as my back patio at home.

12. Going out to eat

tumblr_inline_mumg85jzJL1qcfozd.gif

Now every restaurant trip is filled with guilt and regret.

13. Vacuumed floors

Mrs-Doubtfire-Dancing-and-Vacuuming-2.gif

Sometimes I forget that vacuuming is a thing that adults do. Sorry, carpet.

A Trip to the Thrift Store

When I was young, maybe ten or eleven, my dad and I went to a thrift store in town. We went to these kinds of places a lot. I’d rifle through the old stuffed animals and boardgames missing half their pieces looking for my big find while my dad perused electronics and the men’s clothing sections, mostly looking for jackets. He’d lift me up to occasionally look at the glass knickknacks housed on the shelves placed on top of the clothing racks. Ceramic cats were one of my favorite things to find. Thrift stores always felt different than our trips to Toys ‘R’ Us or Walmart. Here, I could touch anything I wanted and I never had to worry about the thing I wanted being more than $20, the standard amount for an excursion. However, despite the fact that everything was more accessible, nothing at the thrift stores ever felt lesser than the things at Toys ‘R’ Us. Whatever I left with, I loved it as much. The things sometimes felt a little mystic because I knew that my new bear/doll/game had a life before it came to me.

After checking out one day, we walked out of the store and into the cold parking lot. It was dark, the chilling wind stung my face and the parking lot was basically empty as all the stores had already closed. As I walked close to my father, I noticed a man a few yards in front of us, leaning into the open-hooded car in front of him.

“Baby girl, go hop in the truck, I’ll be there in a second. Here, take the keys and start it.”

With that, my dad walked off, headed towards the stranger. I kept looking back at them as I waddled to the truck, cold and clutching my new whatever. I could feel myself getting anxious. I thought maybe Dad knew this guy, that was the only logical reason my nervous brain could  think of. Why else would he approach a total stranger in the dark with no one else around? The truck windshield began to fog as the heater came to life and my view of Dad and the strange man became muddied as the lights of the parking lot reflected across the glass.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was most likely about 8 minutes, my dad pulled open the drivers side door, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to ebb the chilling pain in his hands.

“Who was that guy?” I asked, relief flooding me as I realized tonight would not become an episode of Forensics Files.

“Not sure, I didn’t get his name,” Dad replied nonchalantly, flipping on the headlights and   pulling the gearshift.

“Well then why did you help him?” I asked, confused as to why he put not only himself, but me in danger.

“Because he needed help,” he said, eyes focused on the road home.

“But why did you have to do it? Someone else could’ve helped him,” I huffed, my young mind annoyed.

Dad looked over at me, his brow furrowed. “Because,” he began, his serious tone extremely evident in his voice, “When somebody needs help, you help them. Or they could be waiting on a ‘someone else’ who might never come.”

I could tell the conversation was over. I glanced behind me and saw the other man pulling out of the parking lot, driving away from us. I wondered what he bought at the thrift store before realizing his car wouldn’t start. I wondered how long he would’ve sat there if Dad hadn’t helped him. But then I stopped wondering. Because he was headed home, just like us.

 

Preparing for the Spring Semester

Last night I had a dream that I couldn’t find any of my classes for the new semester. Panicking, I frantically attempted to look up my schedule on my phone, but the normal links seemed to be gone. I could hear the bell for the start of the next period ring. Then the 5-minute-late bell. I tried to remember what room I was looking for. Eventually, I woke up, took in the surroundings of my bedroom and immediately wrote my new class schedule into my planner.

raw.gif

There were, of course, some dream-like qualities to my environment, including the fact that I was in my old high school versus at my university, but the fear was still very real. With school starting back in a little over a week, I think this dream was my brain’s way of telling me it’s time to start getting my sh!t together for the upcoming semester. The holidays have happened and it’s time to put my big-girl pants on again.

Since MLK Day falls on the Monday we’re supposed to start, we’ll range this semester in on a Tuesday. My first class will be my Writing Creative Non-Fiction. As an English Literature major, I still have to take a few writing credits. I started last semester with Intro to Creative Writing and will further my writing journey by dipping into Non-Fiction. My professor has published a memoir before, so I think it’ll be an interesting class.

Also on Tuesday, Philosophy of Race. I’ve heard amazing things about this one and it is the one and only class that I will get to take with Boyfriend. As an engineer, he needs to take a humanities so we’ll be in this one together.

For Wednesday, I’ll have The Modern West, which is a history class and then, my most anticipated class, Murder Will Out, a literature class focused on detective fiction. Sherlock Holmes, Agatha Christie, Edgar Allan Poe, all in one class. Plus, the professor, while a little eccentric, is amazing. I had him last semester. He is difficult, frustrating and I learned so much I thought my brain was going to explode. I can’t wait to see what he has in store this semester.

HhXxn4.gif

Finally, my computer class is all online. Which means I’ll probably forget about it a lot. I need to leave Post-Its everywhere to remind me that it exists….

With my planner full of class times, there’s only a few more things I need to get together and I’ll be ready to head into the second semester of my junior year. It’s pretty insane to think that in a little over a year, I’ll be a college graduate.

Good luck to those of you heading back/already back. Kick this semester’s ass!

17 Things I Hope to Do Better in 2017 (and You Should Too)

Yes, another 2017 post. I’m sure you’ve read a million of these by now, but I think there’s a reason for that. 2016 was a hard year for a lot of people, and not just because of the election or celebrity deaths. Because of that, plus the simple fact that it’s a new year, people are hoping to change things: their lives, their surroundings and even themselves. I’m among this group. I did a lot of things in 2016 that I’d like to do better in 2017. So here they are.

1. Read for fun

Because I’m majoring in Literature, I read A LOT. I read 14 novels last semester. And while I enjoyed many of them, I haven’t read for fun in far too long. While I know it might be difficult to juggle required with recreational when it come to my books, I really hope to make a little more time for the things I want to read by choice.

Quote-Book-is-a-gift.gif

2. Wash your face before you go to bed

original.jpg

I know, I know. Makeup/dirt/whatever collects in your pores and makes you breakout blahblahblah. I’m gonna try to be better. I promise.

3. Do homework before the day before it’s due

Being a person who writes a TON of essays, procrastination is not my friend.

giphy-23.gif

4. Walk for 30 minutes every day

Wake up early. Walk. Kick that day’s ass. Done.

5. Vacuum once a week

Being a 20-something means that I don’t vacuum until I can physically see something wrong with my floor. It’s time to teach that dog hair who’s boss.

Mrs-Doubtfire-Dancing-and-Vacuuming.gif

6. Fold your laundry as soon as it comes out of the dryer.

I have a tendency to leave clean clothes in the basket long enough to accumulate enough dirty clothes to go into that same basket. I need to give my hangers some love.

7. Get over $1000 into a savings account

giphy-24.gif

A goal I think most young adults should have. For emergencies, Christmas shopping, etc. A buffer in your savings account can do you wonders

8. Switch from coffee creamer to Half and Half

Though I’ll miss the sweet, calorie filled creamer that I’ve come to know and love, my waistline will thank me for this one

9. Wear socks that match

While I was a die-hard sock mismatcher for years, it feel pretty adult to walk around in socks that match. Even if they have Darth Vader on them…. Which mine definitely might…

10. Try a new recipe (or 2 or 17)

funny-kitchen-animated-gif-14.gif

Branching out in your cooking can be scary, semi-expensive and even difficult. However, it is worth it if you can come out on the other side with an amazing dish that gives you bragging rights for weeks on Facebook.

11. Craft something

I’m gonna shoot for a scarf. But cross stitch or a painting works. Even macaroni art counts!

12. Listen to a few new bands

You always hear about those people that ‘saw Led Zeppelin before they got big’. Be that person! See the whoever before they get big!

13. Hang out with people you’ve missed

7_1444382569.gif

I technically started doing that last year, connecting with an old friend. I highly recommend it.

14. Call your family

This is a little deep, but believe me: You’ll regret it when they’re gone so do it while you can.

15. Get dressed up on a normal day

c96a6348d7d25c3a4efdb4539ae964aad4a8c5265d53f4c93ca7c1a012b6b46b.jpg

2016 was a bad year on my body-confidence. So I’m going to force myself to remember how beautiful I am. And you are too. Remember that.

16. Do a crossword to completion

Don’t give up! You know words! (Maybe don’t use pen though..)

17. Allow happiness in

b8d33173a34feed7616b6a8fd2ed8841.jpg

As a person with depression, it is hard to accept happiness. As soon as it comes, I start looking for the part of the sky that could potentially fall. This year, I hope to embrace the happiness that I have.