Prelude to Shark Week

Shark week is apparently on everyone's lips. Well, modify--everyone that we know of and see on a daily basis in grad school. Our friends are strictly confined to an exclusively nerdy crowd.

Blake and I have made significant headway in this blog project. HE DESIGNED THE TITLE BANNER!!! He spent many sleepless hours (right before going to bed), shed a sea of invisible sweat, and took his Photoshop skills to a brand new level.

So a big round of applause to Shijie! It has been tested and proven that she possesses exquisitely fine taste in finding a computer-savvy husband. I simply cannot congratulate her enough. Good job.

Good job.

Switch back to first-person narrative. Blake and I went to Borders to snatch some end-of-summer reads. Because I am an awful person, I sincerely wished the discount could have been more generous. Come on, everything must go!

Also, with my newly acquired knowledge of itunes, I am starting to make an alternative wedding music playlist, tentatively featuring Weezer's "Island in the Sun" and Coldplay's "Every Teardrop is A Waterfall." I have one mild fear that Blake would dominate the ceremony with his eclectic music choice. I absolutely object to playing "Fistful of Sand" or "An Honest Mistake" on that occasion.

Summer is finally coming to an end. How do we know that in Tucson? 115 degrees of steamy hotness.

My end-of-summer resolution entails doing more leisure reading, cleaning my room, feeding Blake well, and spending quality time with friends.

I would like to think that Blake's end-of-summer resolution is to (1) love Shijie; (2) work out and sculpt those baby six-packs; (3) rest well and take mind off work when not at work; and (4) love Shijie. I know he would love to loop his resolution.

As shark week has taught us, looping and recycling old documentaries makes history, generates wide-spread interest, and elevates an unremarkable sea creature to iconic status.

Tale of two cities, in one day

I went to Phoenix today, for an interview. I just had a cliff bar and was feeling peaceful. While I was waiting for the Arizona shuttle, two rednecks got into a fight and tried to stare each other down. One almost pulled out a gun from his car. I was seriously frightened and hiding under the table. Oh well, Arizona. Please don't shoot me before I get a job.

The interview went well. The judge reminded me of so many people, all in that small frame. She read my writing samples very closely and left numerous hand-written notes all over the margin. We talked about the GPS technology, crime prevention, police stalking, privacy interest, etc. I was glad that I spent the whole semester wrestling with those issues, so at least I was somewhat prepared. She also appeared quite impatient with candidates just scratching the surface. She would go straight into the heart of every activity listed on my resume, "What did you learn from it?"

The one question that threw me off guard from her was: How do you see glass ceilings for female attorneys? I must have bitten my tongue when I heard her. There were so many instances where I felt I have been limited in an extremely uncomfortable way, like the time when the criminal law professor congratulated me for being the "only" unlikely one to write onto the law review, like the time interviewers condescendingly asked me "Don't you feel that Tucson is too small for someone like you?", like the time I received an empty promise for a recommendation letter.

Sometimes I don't know whether the barriers are there necessarily because I am a female, I am a Chinese Chinese, I have no connections in Arizona, I am too good to be true, none of the above, or all of the above. I need to eliminate too many "interfering" characteristics of mine and control too many variables to figure out: What went wrong? Am I too peculiar? Or is this your problem?

Luckily, the judge extended me the offer right after our interview. On my way back to Tucson, I looked out the window and saw the long stretch of barren, empty, flat land of Arizona. I started to picture me driving through this desert to see my babe.

And maybe, I would be greeted by a kitty cat by then.

It all began with a kiss

We decided to start this blog so that we can have a little couple project to work on amidst our busy days and lazy days. Also, I personally hope this blog can warm me up to the idea of planning a wedding in Tucson and be an outlet when I am stressed and overworked.

We came across a couple names for this blog. Blake first suggested that we should pay tribute to our red cars. In fact, an entire set of our engagement pictures are devoted to the cars. Not to mention, our relationship (or acquaintanceship) started as he drove me around in his R32, blasting some indie music and raving the engine, while I was sleeping with mouth agape in the passenger seat, apparently unimpressed.

Then, in a moment of divine inspiration, I had an idea. My train of thought went like this: we got hitched -> we're hitched hikers -> in a crusade along the unknown train of my wedding gown, or metaphorically, the milky way. So here we are now. Two Aspiring hitched-hikers' guide to the galaxy.

I love the idea. So does Blake. In fact, he loves it so much that he started this blog venture right away. An hour later, we had our first post, a gadget bar, some cool font, and a clementine color scheme (*update 07/31: back to black) .

Indeed, Blake and I are "hitched" hikers. As we often put it, we "stumbled upon" each other. We couldn't be any more different, yet we have come half way around this world to fall in love.

Last week, I got my driver's license, after one harmless fight, two failed attempts, and Blake's numerous coaching and early rises. Now I have my "multi-pass" to keep wandering and drifting, and luckily I have Blake to keep me out of trouble.

Travel safely in the unhinged universe.