Tests, tests, tests

Sorry, y'all,

I know, its been almost a month since I've written anything. It's amazing how after reading and writing all day I have little motivation to do it anymore. Here's quick summary of the last month:

1. I have law reading coming out of my ears, but I recently (last night) mastered the art of skimming.

2. I read a book about animal rights activists and deer hunters for my public management class.

3. I'm researching contested Nevada water rights for a class.

4. My GA professor asked me to research diesel fuel for a research paper. Ask me to explain how a diesel engine works sometime!

5. I'm good at taking economics tests and bad at writing economics papers.

6. Dane and I have a lovely new couch that I got for super cheap at the used furniture store. I put a red slip cover over it to cover up the awesome muted aquas, corals, and blues of early 90's/late 80's. We hope it doesn't have flees...

7. Dane and I are getting along super well. We don't see each other much during the week, so we spend lots of time on the weekends going for hikes and enjoying each others company.

8. I have 3 tests this week and 2 on Monday (tomorrow). I better get back to work.

Go Hoosiers!

Read the Fine Print

I've learned a few important things in school over the past few weeks. I've re-learned the laws of supply and demand in economics, struggled thru my first programs in SAS (Statistical Analysis Software), learned about principal-agency relationships in law class, and tried to find an appropriate size for government in public management. But, the most important lesson I've learned so far in this whole moving-to-Indiana process is to always read the fine print.

You see, Dane and I (actually it was more Dane) realized that it was cheaper to hire movers to haul his belongings accross the country than to rent a U-haul truck and do it ourselves. We couldn't believe it. It was less money to pay somebody else to carry boxes up and down the stairs in 105 degree heat? We both felt that it was just too good to be true, but numbers don't lie. Right?

The movers required a two day pick up window. We were excited at the prospect of perhaps having an extra day in Glacier National Park in addition to the one we'd already planned. The first day of potential pick up came and went. We were a little disappointed, but no matter. We got a call that they would arrive the following day at about noon. In the morning we got up early in anticipation, wrapping the bed in its protective plastic bag, double checking the tape job on all of the boxes, and pacing around the box filled house. Hours passed with no word from the movers. Then, about noon Dane got a call on his cell phone. "Victory," we declared, "they're in Hood River." No such luck. 

"You see," the dispatcher explained, "the movers just had a run in with the police." Our movers had driven too many hours in one day and had gotten in trouble with the police at a weigh station. We tried to occupy ourselves the rest of the day in a white-walled box-filled house with limited success.

The movers arrived the next day and were very professional. Dane and I both agree that the movers themselves were very certious individuals. 

As we were signing the paperwork we learned that our belongings would be dropped off within 14 days after we arrived at our new place. This was certainly not the impression we were under during the sales pitch. We were under the distinct impression our things would arrive 14 days after pick up. Opps! Somebody lied to us. We left on our our road trip to Indiana the next day, camping and driving for what seemed like days on end. We had to cancel the trip to Glacier National Park because of the late pick-up. So sad!

Upon arriving in Indiana and, with even closer inspection of the paper work, we discovered that the possible delay got even worse than we imagined. The movers had 14 business days to deliver our stuff. Suddenly we realized that with labor day and weekends we might be without furniture until nearly Christmas break! Actually it was more September 9th. Considering the movers arrived at Dane's house in Hood River on August 13th, there was a distinct possibility we might sleep on the floor for almost an entire month. I promptly went out and bought a blow-up queen-size mattress.

But, we had hope. Barak Obama would be so proud. We had hope that they would be a better moving company. We knew deep down that they would not wait until the very last day to deliver our belongings. And we were wrong. 

As the days went by we started to question if we would ever see our things again. The whole operation started to seem shady in retrospect. We found the company on the internet. They made us pay in cash. We did not have a receipt for the half we paid up front. As we looked more closely at the contract we noticed misspellings. Hmmm. 

Then, like a miracle, on the very last day of our contract we got a call. It was the movers. They would arrive at 8:30 pm on September 9th. We were hopeful, but not totally shocked when 8:30 pm turned into 10:30 pm. The giant semi-truck pulled up in front of the apartment and out came all of the boxes we said goodbye to nearly a month ago. Well, everything except the top of a desk and a bookshelf, they lost those.

All in all, Dane and I are not sure how to feel about the whole thing. After the movers left around midnight Dane and I unwrapped the mattress, threw a sheet over it, and tucked ourselves under the blanket. I turned to Dane and asked, "So, do you think it was worth it to hire movers?" After a long pause he said, "Maybe...."

Go Hoosiers!

 

The Cracker Barrel

I know it's been a little while since I last updated the blog, but I was going to class and figuring out my life. I'll just summarize the last week by saying that so far graduate school is a million times better than undergrad because I spend half as much time in class and then waste all that saved time waiting for the bus. 

Now for the cultural experience portion of the blog...

Today Dane and I went to the Cracker Barrel. For those of you that don't know the "Barrel" serves chain restaurant style down home cookin'. We tried to make it the most authentic southern experience we possibly could. I ordered sweet tea and Dane played it safe with Coke Classic. Then we greedily explored the brown trifold menu. There were fried items I've never seen at the Minnesota state fair. We were both tempted by the Chicken Fried Steak, but settled on the Chicken Fried Chicken with Sawmill Gravy and Chicken & Dumplings respectively. Each meal came with THREE different sides plus a choice of buttermilk biscuit or cornbread muffins. Making sure that none of our sides overlapped, I went for the corn, mashed potatoes and fried okra, while Dane sprung for the steak fries, apple pie filling, and green beans. When our food arrived Dane got three different plates laden with main dish and sides and I got a serving platter the size of a hub cap. We ate and ate and ate until we realized that we were no match for the southern/midwestern portions. The Pacific Northwest has ruined our natural eating abilities with rabbit food. We ambled out of the restaurant with a wide stance and took a few laps around the adjacent outlet mall before heading home. We ate at noon and weren't hungary when we sat down to eat dinner at 8 pm. Needless to say, we recommend the Cracker Barrel experience.

Go Hoosiers!

When you are mistaken for a law student...

How do you know you just spent too much on textbooks? When you are mistaken for a law student like I was at the bookstore today. Yep, I walked out of the there $655.75 lighter than when I entered. The most disappointing part- all the books fit into one canvas bag. Sigh. I think the clerk was also fooled by my book titles. Here's a tantalizing sampling:

- Public Law and Public Administration

- The Warping of Government Work

- Public Administration: The Profession and the Practice

- Managerial Economics

- Cases on Public Law and Public Administration

- Statistical Methods and Data Analysis.

You want to know the crazy part? I can't wait to read them all. 

I also started looking at internships tonight. Suddenly a job title like Policy Analyst for the Southern Nevada Water Authority or Environmental Protection Agency seems highly plausible. I don't know about you, but too me that sounds pretty darn tootin' cool. Maybe I could even get the job title "decider."

Bloomington is wonderful, especially now that the unbearable heat and humidity have broken. It's been down right pleasant for the last few days. 

Go Hoosiers!

Translation

So it turns out "Graduate Orientation" means "sit for 8 hours on uncomfortable wooden folding chairs and be told how hard your life will be for the next 2 years. No worries though... it will all be worth it for that awesome unpaid internship next summer." 

As an extra bonus I got to fill out paper work tonight. 

The Start of the Beginning

Well, I'm sitting on the floor of my home for the next two years-- a two bedroom apartment complete with substandard appliances. The air condition is running to fend off the 200% humidity on this lovely Bloomington, Indiana evening. The furniture we packaged up more than a week ago should arrive some time in the next week. The movers will most likely pick a delivery time when both Dane and I have a mandatory, super important meeting that will define our graduate careers. That would be incredibly convenient. 

But seriously, Indiana is great. I went to the Farmer's Market this morning and bought zucchini, peppers (red and green), and a mountain of peaches. The highlight our urban vegetable adventure was waiting in the corn line. Yes, a line for corn. It was half a block long. I've never tasted this blessed holy grail of corn before, but those already in line spoke highly of its firm kernel and superior sweetness. Their descriptions were almost erotic.

The afternoon was filled with soft-bellied internet perusing until Dane and I turned to each other and decided it was time for our first outdoor Indiana adventure. We jumped in the car after wading through muggy air (have I mentioned that it's humid here) and drove 14 miles further east where we found Yellowwood State Park. It's a darling forest complete with tent campground, a small lake, and graveyard (spooky) were it appears no one lasted past their 6th birthday (sad). It was positively gorgeous and I can't wait to escape there whenever the thriving metropolis of Bloomington gets to be too much. 

Well, that's it. Greetings from the land of Chick-fil-A, sweet tea, and Hoosiers.