New places, old faces, and happy 2011

Hard to believe it, but we’ve been roughing it down south for over 9 months now, and we appear to have birthed a happy little Texas existence (going with the whole gestation period = 9 months thing…anyway).

We’ve moved into a new apartment in a much more decidedly *us* neighborhood in SA.  There’s sidewalks and lots of dog owners, and the hardwood floors are very reminiscent of our North Portland house (read: Riley’s shedded fur makes dustballs that can cut you off at the ankles).

Bitch loves him some area rug

Our neighborhood can only be described as lovely.  The houses are for the most part cottage-like, and the overall feel is very Eugene.

Cottage #1

Cottage #2

Here be Texas

In thinking about the time we’ve spent in TX so far, we appear to have completed many of the requisites one might assume, including:

• Attending a pig roast
• Getting 3rd degree sunburns at the beach
• Being attacked in our home by a pestilence of insects
• Eaten deer meat given to us by a coworker
• BBQ’d…several times
• Not worn any heavy coats during the winter months
• Eaten a lot of Mexican food
• Gotten lost on the highway
• Put a cowboy hat on our dog
• Eaten…just in general

Here's another picture of The Alamo in case you may have failed to remember it.

Texas has been very good to us so far, and every morning I wake up and it’s not raining, I remember there is more than one reason that destiny/the universe/some deity’s sense of humor has brought us to this land of plenty.

So here’s to another prosperous year in the Alamo City!

Happy new year!

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PDX and SA: a Comparative Study

I’ve had this post in my head for quite a while, and I’m quite sure it will change as we observe more about our new southern home.  This list is neither comprehensive nor an attempt at judgment.  There are just many differences we’ve picked up on so far in our move that deserve to be illuminated.

The Bars

If you go to a PDX bar (okay, the bars WE go to in PDX) you will no doubt encounter small groups of people huddled at vintage-looking tables clutching a pint of microbrew or tall boy of Pabst, perhaps one or more of them sporting hipster glasses and/or a t-shirt of a band only 2 people in the NW have even heard of.  If you venture downtown, especially in the 1st/Ankeny area, you’ll see hoards of 20-somethings sporting fishnets or striped knee socks stumbling toward a food cart or pedi-cab.  Dare to visit Burnside and you’ll see the sparkling signs for Boxxxes or other various caberets where the drag queens are taking smoke breaks across the street from Dante’s.  What I’m saying is that the scene is eccletic and designed to meet the specific needs of a given group, be they hipster, young partier, or cross-dressing.

In PDX, this would be an Allagash 8% apple cider.

The scene in SA is decidedly more catch-all, and here’s what I mean: walk into most any PDX bar alone and you’ll most likely stay alone while you’re there.  People are with their crowds and tend not to stray talking to strangers.  The few conversations I’ve managed in PDX bars always ended up being with people visiting from out of town, and you can just forget the idea that anyone would buy you a drink out of the goodness of their heart.  But saunter into the Old Irish Pub here in SA and it’s a whole different story.  Everyone from the semi-employed web designers with their laptops open to the 20-year corporate America veterans looking to escape the rat race is belly up to the bar throwing playful insults across the room at each other.  Say you’re from out of town and five hands go up to buy you a $1 Shiner on draft.*  Bar patrons come in all shapes and sizes, but they’re all drinking old standards: Dos Equis dressed with lime and salt, Jaeger and Red Bull, Miller on tap.  We haven’t ventured much into the party bar scene yet, but the casual drinking scene is certainly alive and kicking.  And very friendly.

*Also, there’s no OLCC here, so bars aren’t required to serve food.  Ca-razy.

The Climate

Okay, obvious, yes.  But believe it or not, it has actually rained quite a bit since we got here.  However, the rain has the good manners to mostly happen at night and be really awesome.  It’s created a killer amount of humidity (which people have sworn up and down to me will go away) that makes my hair poof up in anger.  Also, I’ve been at the pool most every day I’m not working.  Making up for all those hours squirreled away indoors last Oregon winter contemplating my toenails.

Whitest feet south of the mason dixon line.

The Food

I know I know, you’re tired of seeing food pictures.  Well that’s just too damn bad.

Texas: where even the cheese gallops.

Schickle and I have decided that SA food on the whole is much better than we were expecting.  We were expecting the good Mexican food and BBQ of course, but we’ve be pleased as punch to find a full range of delicious burgers, sushi places, and even middle eastern/Greek fare.

The pita was...you guessed it...bigger.

But here’s the major difference: volume.  For every person in SA, there are approximately 5 restaurants (one BBQ, two Mexican, a fast food chain, and a taqueria for good measure) because I get the impression that hearty, readily available food is a big thing in Texas.  This is not to say we haven’t found (and will continue to find) eclectic and one-of-a-kind places here, but the thing about PDX that we somewhat appreciated while we were there is that pretty much EVERY place in PDX is one-of-a-kind and really excellent.  From our besties at LRBC (RIP, we shed a bacon-y tear for you today) to the knock-your-socks-off food carts and flavorful happy hours of Cuban dishes to unbeatable burger and a movie prices at McMenamins, it seems that one can do little wrong in PDX when it comes to food.  This in large part can be blamed on an overall slumping economy where restaurants flat out don’t make it without being excellent, but I prefer to just think that PDX has some food magic going on.

The Bugs

I’m going to end on this one for now because I just want to tell you all how much the bugs in Texas can absolutely go to hell and never ever come back.  The mosquitos have been treating my skin as an all you care to suck Country Buffet since we arrived, hoards of moths surround the street lights around our apartment, and the crickets, well.  The MF’ing crickets.  “Aw, they sing, isn’t that nice?” NO.  No it is not nice.  Not when they sneak into your apartment and sing their taunting little “I’m not touching you!  I’m not touching you!  But I AM in your space sucka!” at 4AM and make you wake your poor tired boyfriend to go on a killing spree.  Not when a gang of 20 of them waits at the bottom of your stairwell every night just to spring around like they’re going to attack you and your poor helpless pooch and make clicking noises as their exoskeletons hit the pavement.  Bugs in Oregon know well enough to peace the hell out lest they be drowned or frozen, and the worst things we saw in summer was the occasional fruit fly posse.  These Texas bugs have some balls, and I’m already sick of it.  So I will sit with my bug spray in hand, glowering at the impending cricket hoards.

I wish this was the cricket I meant.

And we haven’t even seen the fire ants yet.

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Benign Observations of a New World

Seriously, Texas: you are so awesome in so many ways.  We’ve had an excellent first week getting settled into our little apartment and prepping KS for his first week of women’s work–I mean–ER nursing.  So far so good: he’s made it to work on time both days and only had 2 unsuccessful IV attempts.  Apparently veins are made of jello in Tejas.  He’ll have a detailed update for our nursing friends come later this week.

While KS has been off stamping out pestilence and warding off disease (shout out to Dr. V), The Pants and I have been on the poop spot and new job hunts, respectively.  And update on this scene will come when we have definitive news, as I don’t think the general public has much interest for my opinion of how much the email auto-responders like my credentials.

So instead, here are a few observations we’ve made about Texas and San Antonio thus far.  Keep in mind that San Antonio has 1.3 million people.  Think about that for a second–one period point period three period MILLION people.  That’s a lot of peeps to feed, entertain, transport, and keep from generally rioting, which means there are plenty of things to do and see.

• FOOD:  The obvious first highlight for us has been the food (or comida as we’ve grown to call it).  Highlights so far have included (links are to the Yelp pages where I have invariably provided a review.  What?  I have no job yet!):

Henry’s Puffy Tacos: They fry the MFing shells till their crispy and, yes, puffy.

And beans "charro" style, which means they have too much eyeliner on and like to shimmy a lot.

Taco Cabana: The cheapest, fastest, 24-hour enchilada platters and queso around.  We thought it was good, but apparently we’re gringos.  SURPRISE.

Salsa bars. They are everywhere.

Chacho’s: There are various tiers of Mexican food around these parts (I’m using my own numbering system–patent pending).  Tier 3 is the TC (see above) at which a true Mexicano would eat only when drunk out of his mind and with a gun to his head.  Tier 1 contains the taquerias that look like crack dens but contain rotund grandmas in the back making tortillas by hand and make ingredients like lengua (tongue) and tripe (cow stomach lining) delicious and edible.  Chacho’s is decidedly in Tier 2 for me: a step up from the TC, but not as authentic as it gets.

We ended up getting queso too, let's be honest.

The Malt House: $3 double hamburger basket that came back to bite me in the intestines later.  But with burgers, mexican food, and fried chicken under one cafeteria-style roof, it’s hard to complain about a little indigestion.

• ENTERTAINMENT: It’s Fiesta week!  This is literally a week-long party where fun stuff is going on every night.

Check out the always wonderful KK’s summary of the festivities for the deets.  WARNING: here be genuine line dancing.  And KS kicking my ass at the Cha Cha Slide.

• THE ROADS: Drivers here are many, as there is literally no way of getting anywhere without taking a car.  You could try to bike, but you’d get struck by a vehicle (most likely a truck).  You could take the bus, but you’d probably kill yourself while waiting the agonizingly long time for your ride.  The freeways are also many, as are the lanes.  You know that Mulholland Drive ride at Disney’s California Adventure where your car takes turns at exactly 90 degrees and leaves your stomach in the chevron while continuing on to the next dip in the track?  That’s what the lane changes are like here.  Whipping across 3-4 lanes just to get on to the freeway.  Drivers are overall tolerable, I think.  They actually want to get places, which is refreshing.  However, they can be flat out wusses in the strangest situations, like during a stop at a yield sign to merge onto an access road.  That’s how you get a bent bumper in Texas.

And there's that too.

• LIQUOR: They have it at Costco.  That’s all.

Overall assessment: going to a new place is one of the greatest decisions we’ve made.  We’re totally outside our comfort zones in careers, social life, and driving elements, but we’re totally up for the challenge and learning.  And the booze…did we mention the booze?

The view from our apartment patio looks pretty rosy. Shoutout to Kim's mom for the coffee mugs!

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