Lessons from New York, Thanksgiving 2009

First, my apologies for lack of updates, and lack of conclusions to the two "series" I have going on (one on education, the other on career confusion). I blame a combination of approaching end of semester crunch, recent mood issues, and Thanksgiving vacation.

Speaking of which! Last Wednesday, I drove up to Syracuse to spend Thanksgiving with my stepfather, David, and his wife, Dorita. It was a lovely time. Whenever I go up to New York--either to visit them in Syracuse, or help at the New York Renaissance Faire in Tuxedo--I find it remarkably easy to leave behind almost all the troubles and cares from Connecticut. The first cause of this is an almost total lack of outside communication--while they have internet, their computers are pretty slow, and they don't watch TV or listen to a lot of radio (do I need to explain a lack of communication at a Renn Faire?). Secondly, I'm there with a purpose--at the Ren Faire, it's to sell and generally help out. In Syracuse, it's to spend quality time. I always end up having fun, learning a lot, and wishing that there wasn't a 4+ hour drive from here to there.

Here is a "short" list of what I learned on this trip:

[1] Coin-operated car washes are SO. MUCH. FUN.

[2] How to wash dishes by hand.
[2a] Washing dishes by hand can be relaxing and almost enjoyable.

[3] David would have gone into science if not for the math; instead he got a Bachelors Degree in Psychology, Eastern Philosophy, and Anthropology.

[3] How to make a Chocolate Mocha Cake...the RIGHT way.

[4] In baking, precise measurements are overrated.

[5] Price Chopper has the best guilty pleasures: on one past trip, I learned about their Four Cheese Artisan Bread; on this trip, I discovered cheddar cheese bagels.

[6] Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me is an awesome NPR show. It's The Daily Show, complete with celebrities and real news, put on the radio and turned into a call-in quiz show.

[7] Bruce Campbell knows a surprising amount about Barbie.

[8] David brought Mom and I to visit his father when I was no older than three. This is the closest I've gotten to meeting a "direct" grandparent. I have no memory of it.

[9] A pie without butter is still real pie...but only barely.

[10] Ending a visit with a loved one never gets easier as you grow up. It does, in fact, get harder.