I spent the weekend in the Bay Area with Julie. Pat also has a sweetie up there, so we decided to pool our resources (his car and iPod, my humor and erudition) to take advantage of the holiday. Pat drove like a champ, especially considering it was his first time making a trip of that magnitude. And I got to see green grass on the I-5, the first time I’ve come across that.
The weekend was great but short, which is obviously what I was going to say about it. Some highlights: I got to feed Izzy, Julie’s bird; for dinner on Valentine’s Day we made nabe (Japanese winter soup) and went out for drinks; Karen’s birthday was on Sunday night, we bar-crawled around Lake Merritt and it was all a good time. Then, home. Great but short.
Something the weekend helped drive home is that my time in the Bay Area is becoming more and more about Julie and my friends and less and less about my family. (Case in point: I always say “the Bay Area” rather than “Berkeley” now, because I don’t actually stay in Berkeley and none of my friends live there.) When I got to Julie’s, I called home to set up some time to visit my folks. My step-mom made a joke about how they come in second to my Valentine now. “Well, if I was visiting for Mother’s Day, you know who’d be first,” I said. Good line, but of course I’m not going home for Mother’s Day.
What ended up happening was: Julie and I met my parents and my two-year-old cousin Anna (a very cute creature) at the Steam Trains in Tilden Park, which I hadn’t been to since I was 7 or so. That was a lot of fun. Then we went back to the house to talk and catch up, and after about an hour and a half we left. It was a nice visit, but it wasn’t like I was coming home–it was like I was in town with my girlfriend and thought I’d stop by.
Anyway, I’m back in the realm of the working, so I’d better get that started. I’m more than halfway through my second quarter of grad school, so I’m going to go start acting like it.