Baby, You Can Drive My Car

Prior to my move west, one of the things about which I was most apprehensive was driving—specifically, on the freeways. Just the sight of the freeway meters was enough to instill a little fear in me.

I found driving in Southern California to be more stressful, probably because it's always so congested. Drivers there seem a little more brash, which is unhelpful when you're dawdling along, trying to get familiar with the roads. I don't anticipate driving down there very frequently, but I imagine I'll be doing it with my heart in my throat every time.

Up north, however, that stress has dissipated a lot. Sure, the freeways are still busy, and some of the highways consist of seven lanes—I'm used to about four—but driving around the Bay Area is still less chaotic. Even though I'm still a little unfamiliar with some of the roads, I'm comfortable navigating them, which is not something I thought would come easily. I get too easily stressed about silly things.

Some things I've picked up in the past couple of weeks:

* For the most part, nobody really signals. This is primarily true at traffic lights, but also extends to freeway exits and stop signs. Signaling appears to be reserved for changing lanes and the occasional turn.

* Nearly all traffic lights have protected left turns! These little green arrows are seriously underrated. As an added bonus, traffic lights are generally accompanied by little white signs that indicate whether or not U-turns are legal at this particular intersection. I'm growing accustomed to making U-turns, too—New Jersey is jughandle city, so I made them less frequently there.

* Everything is very well labeled. I think this is less true down South, though I didn't drive around enough there to be certain. On freeways, there are signs posted every mile or so, listing the upcoming three or four exits, as well as the distance to them. These signs prove helpful if you're in the left-most lane, and have just two miles to get over to the exit in the middle of rush hour. Additionally, since those signs alongside traffic lights can be hard to read, there are often larger signs posted about 500 feet before an intersection, bearing the name of the upcoming street.

I'm not someone who uses her GPS very often, and the prevalence of signs makes me feel comfortable without non-stop navigation. I'm prepared for my exits miles ahead, I know which lane I need to get into for the correct freeway entrances, and I know which roads are coming up. Preparation makes me the happiest camper.

So rush hour can be stressful, and the roads are congested and wide, but overall, acclimation to driving in California has been easy and relatively seamless. Look at me go!

The Laughing Man

Southwest attendants have jokes!

Flight announcers have the very boring job of having to make the same statements at the beginning of every flight. It's dull to announce, and it's dull to listen to.

This morning, on my flight from Oakland to Orange County, the announcer managed to infuse a little humor into his speech. He's not going to be hailed for his comedic prowess or anything, but I let out a chuckle or two. I should perhaps make a disclaimer that I am occasionally very easily amused.

Some highlights:

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you could pretend to listen..."

"If you sit on the right, you'll see Giants Stadium. If you sit on the left, you'll see Dodger Stadium, the sight of which makes me sick."

"Smoking is not permitted, not even in the restroom. If you're smoking, you better be on fire."

Again, this isn't comedic gold by any stretch of the imagination, but I listened a little more attentively than I would have if he was just droning on about safety. Also, he's a baseball fan! And a seemingly passionate one at that.

Just one more way that Southwest continues to be awesome.

Eat, Drink, and Be Merry

Do you know what I love? Buffets.

This afternoon, I had lunch at Sweet Tomato (aka Souplantation), a predominantly southwestern/western chain. I'd first eaten at one years ago, down in Southern California, but had little recollection of how absolutely amazing this place is.

The buffet consists of several different components; there is a salad bar, a soup station, a section consisting of pasta/baked potatoes/etc., a muffin and bread section, fresh fruit, and dessert. The selection within each section varies based on location and day—according to the website, each restaurant's menu appears to rotate on somewhat of a monthly basis.

Upon walking in, I tackled the salad bar first. The bar contained several ready-made salads (including a fantastic Asian chicken salad and a black bean and couscous salad) as well as an array of cut vegetables so one can create his/her own.

Once I completed eating this portion, I moved onto the soups, which were tasty, but I didn't have a craving for on this particular day. Then I moved onto the gold mine: breads and other baked goods. I grabbed some pizza, a cheese breadstick, and buttermilk cornbread. They were fantastic, and seconds may have been involved. There were also some delicious-looking muffins as well as a frozen yogurt machine, none of which I found as exciting as the more savory portions of the meal. I capped my meal with one last breadstick, and it was fantastic.

One of the things I most enjoy about this kind of buffet is how lightweight most of the components are. I think it really allows you to indulge more fully in everything you put on your plate.

As an added bonus, I feel a lot better when I walk out of this type of buffet than I do when I depart a Chinese buffet. Must be the lack of MSG.

Every location has it's own list of chains that inundate the area (Peet's Coffee, for instance, is very popular on the West Coast), so that's one of the things with which I'm gradually becoming familiar. Souplantation/Sweet Tomato is only one of the area's many offerings, I'm sure.

I know there are also plenty of great, independent restaurants to be discovered in the Bay Area, and I look forward to seeking them out, too. But I can never pass up a good buffet.

The only thing that could top this is a breakfast buffet. An endless supply of breakfast food....what could be more perfect than that?

Come Fly with Me

How amazing is Southwest Airlines? Answer: pretty damn fantastic.

I flew from Philly to Oakland yesterday (via Chicago's Midway), while wrestling nerves and anxiety in a way I haven't for a long time. My trip started out on the right foot: I worried that my diligently and wonderfully packed suitcases (thanks, Mom, for your assistance and expertise!) might be overweight, but I just got by—49 and 50 pounds. The gentleman taking my luggage was so friendly and kind; he unknowingly helped calm my nerves.

Once on the flight, the staff was amiable and attentive, helping me stow my carry-on (short people really struggle to reach those compartments) and unfailingly assisting for the duration of both flights. Also, the first leg was only half full, so I had the entire row to myself. Awesome.

I must have looked hungry; on the second leg, the attendant encouraged me to take as many snacks as I wanted. I'm hardly one to deny food, and the shortbread cookies and baked pita chips served me well.

There were only two downsides, and one was entirely my own doing—the view. After boarding, in my haste to choose a seat, I selected one overlooking the right wing of the plane, which completely obstructed my view. No big deal, actually, since it was late, and I spent the bulk of the flights drifting in and out of sleep.

The other buzz kill was the tundra-like temperatures. I spent most of the flights bundled in two shirts, a zip-up, a scarf, and a jacket. Lovely. It really hindered my attempts to sleep, too.

But when those are my only complaints, things aren't that bad. I paid a relatively low fare for a one-way flight and didn't have to pay atrocious fees to take two (or any) suitcases. Bags fly free! Then, as an added bonus, when most flights can't be bothered to feed you anything, Southwest at least springs for some snack packs—they're a little more substantial than peanuts.

I also really appreciate how diligent they are in assisting passengers when it comes to drinks; attendants always go through the aisles to take orders, much like waiters and waitresses do in restaurants. It gives the whole process a more personal feel, and gives the impression that the attendants—and by extension, the airline itself—is committed to the customer and the level of service they provide.

Southwest succeeds by following the basic tenants of customer service. And if they continue to treat me well, I'll continue to come back for more.

Now Give Me Money, That's What I Want

I am no stranger to awkward moments. This recognition does little to alleviate the discomfort they bring on, however.

This evening, I went out to dinner at a very nicely furnished (I'm a huge fan of mahogany wood) Japanese restaurant. The food was excellent—I had cucumber rolls and vegetable tempura, for those who care/are wondering—and the service was average.

After paying our bill (or so we thought), we lingered at the table for a bit. Suddenly, our waitress reappeared with change. I informed her that we didn't need it; she not-so-kindly responded by saying that the money left amounted to just over a 10 percent tip, and that was just too low. Well. Color me flustered.

In hindsight, I believe we actually did leave a shorter tip than we intended to; this was likely a cause of tiredness. In our minds, the amount we enclosed with the check was about 18 percent, but we miscalculated. But it seems a little uncouth to call out patrons over what you deem an unsatisfactory tip. I rarely tip low, but it's certainly my prerogative to do so, should I think the service is below par.

This uncomfortable moment led to a discussion on tipping etiquette—specifically, whether people are supposed to tip pre- or post-tax.

I was taught that the proper way of calculating tip was to look at the subtotal and figure it out from that amount (Emily Post agrees, so I can't be too wrong), but most people with whom I dine look at the final total. I'm generally flexible, but people's differing methods on such a simple task is probably one of the main reasons bills can be so difficult to calculate when dining with large crowds.

From a practical standpoint, pre-tax makes the most sense—after all, why would one tip on a (state) government-imposed amount? Most people tend to eschew practicality in favor of ease, hence the reason (or so I imagine) that people just glance at the final total to calculate the meal's tip. Anyway.

I came home and conducted a little research, since I am impatient, and was curious to know the proper tipping method.

My various Google searches led me to this article, which details tipping etiquette in numerous countries. The article also delves a little deeper than restaurant tipping, addressing tipping etiquette on hotels, guides, drivers, and others, such as masseurs, luggage porters, and boatmen. It's a good thing about which to be aware if you're about to travel; the amount to tip in most countries differs greatly from that in America. Plus, awareness of international etiquette helps to reduce the possibility of looking like an ignoramus.

I don't anticipate traveling to any of these countries in my lifetime (due to a limited supply of time and money), but if I ever do, at least I have a little guidance that will help me steer clear of more awkward moments. Or so I hope.

Maybe This Year Will Be Better Than the Last

Happy New Year!

The title of this post is a little depressing, and for that I apologize. I adore this song, though; I always think about it around this time of year, and this time, more than any other, many of the lyrics really resonate with me. There's even a line about "com[ing] to California!"

Although this post's title indicates otherwise, 2010 wasn't terrible, but there's definitely (a lot of) room for improvement, so I'll keep my fingers crossed. I've got a good feeling about 2011.

Anyway, in between the 2389474 errands I have to take care of before I move, I found time to play around on Wordle. I'm a nerd and I was an English major, so of course, I love words. Probably far more than the average person does.

I entered the URL of this blog and then fiddled around with the font, color, and shape of the "word cloud." Here's the final product:

Pretty, isn't it?