Less than 48 Hours!
Wow, what a crazy few days it has been. The last week consisted of gutting through final exams (some of which were created by Satan himself, I might add), moving all the stuff out of Asante 124, saying goodbye to the best friends and roomies ever, and watching my peers (entering class of 2002) graduate. Saturday morning we had an amazing brunch at Aretrra restaurant in Del Mar with Joelle, Carolyn, Jim, and Dad, and then I said goodbye to Eves on Saturday following her graduation. I then had to repeat the weepy separation with Carolyn on Sunday night after joining her, the Pomeroy, and her family for a lovely dinner at Taste of Thai. I'm so excited for her future at USD in the fall, and I have to admit am way glad she is going there for my own selfish reasons as well. I'll also have Eves nearby next year, so we can transition out of this not-living-together thing slowly. They have so much become my stars and my rocks I don't know what I will do without them.
But enough of looking behind at the past because I have quite a bit of future to get together. Today was the trek up to the Taiwanese consulate in downtown Los Angeles on Wilshire Blvd. The brilliant assumption of my father would be that the consulate would be in the financial district, which is numbered in the 12000s. (Although I can't totally blame him for making assumptions, cause I made some pretty dumb ones along the way, too.) Upon calling the consulate en route, I discovered to my irritance that the address was 3731. Wilshire is a LONG road with stoplights about every block, with addresses going down by 100 every mile or so. Needless to say we entered at the wrong end of Wilshire (longer than San Pablo Dam Rd. to you Bay Area folks), drove for about 40 minutes, and finally got there. I expected a pretty posh building with all-out flags and the traditional poshness associated with diplomacy, kind of like the Chinese consulate in Rush Hour. Apparently Taiwan has no such clout. I kid you not--this thing was located on the 7th floor of a Washington Mutual building. Ever confused but quickly becoming used to not having a clue about anything at all, I proceeded to the seventh floor to wait an hour before the workers would even see me. I managed to get an expedited visa, which meant it would be ready in three hours as opposed to an entire business day. I returned about 4 hours later and picked it up with (surprisingly!) no problem. And let me just say props to me for being the only white person in that place.
During the processing break, Dad and I sped through LA to a legendary eatery called Philippe's, the location of the original French Dip sandwich. The sandwich and restaurant came into being in 1908. It was a real old, classic join known among the locals and food insiders--sawdust on the floor, classic French dips, pickled eggs, fresh pies, and photos on the wall dating back since opening. As I stuffed a sandwich, cole slaw, and potato salad in my face, we caught the closing minutes of the Spain vs. Tunisia game. (Tunisia lost 3-1 in case you cared.) I also washed the sandwich down with a slice of cherry pie. Here's to the off-season, I suppose.
We then hit up Chinatown for a few hours and went to one of my dad's fave markets, and are now back at a random hotel in Buena Park. It's comparatively luxurious to what I'm used to on cycling weekends. I get my own bed AND wi-fi...it doesn't get much better. Tomorrow it's back to San Diego for tying up some loose ends and crashing at the Ramada across the street from the airport, and then Wednesday's plans? I'm off!
Oh my god. I'm actually going to Taiwan.
But enough of looking behind at the past because I have quite a bit of future to get together. Today was the trek up to the Taiwanese consulate in downtown Los Angeles on Wilshire Blvd. The brilliant assumption of my father would be that the consulate would be in the financial district, which is numbered in the 12000s. (Although I can't totally blame him for making assumptions, cause I made some pretty dumb ones along the way, too.) Upon calling the consulate en route, I discovered to my irritance that the address was 3731. Wilshire is a LONG road with stoplights about every block, with addresses going down by 100 every mile or so. Needless to say we entered at the wrong end of Wilshire (longer than San Pablo Dam Rd. to you Bay Area folks), drove for about 40 minutes, and finally got there. I expected a pretty posh building with all-out flags and the traditional poshness associated with diplomacy, kind of like the Chinese consulate in Rush Hour. Apparently Taiwan has no such clout. I kid you not--this thing was located on the 7th floor of a Washington Mutual building. Ever confused but quickly becoming used to not having a clue about anything at all, I proceeded to the seventh floor to wait an hour before the workers would even see me. I managed to get an expedited visa, which meant it would be ready in three hours as opposed to an entire business day. I returned about 4 hours later and picked it up with (surprisingly!) no problem. And let me just say props to me for being the only white person in that place.
During the processing break, Dad and I sped through LA to a legendary eatery called Philippe's, the location of the original French Dip sandwich. The sandwich and restaurant came into being in 1908. It was a real old, classic join known among the locals and food insiders--sawdust on the floor, classic French dips, pickled eggs, fresh pies, and photos on the wall dating back since opening. As I stuffed a sandwich, cole slaw, and potato salad in my face, we caught the closing minutes of the Spain vs. Tunisia game. (Tunisia lost 3-1 in case you cared.) I also washed the sandwich down with a slice of cherry pie. Here's to the off-season, I suppose.
We then hit up Chinatown for a few hours and went to one of my dad's fave markets, and are now back at a random hotel in Buena Park. It's comparatively luxurious to what I'm used to on cycling weekends. I get my own bed AND wi-fi...it doesn't get much better. Tomorrow it's back to San Diego for tying up some loose ends and crashing at the Ramada across the street from the airport, and then Wednesday's plans? I'm off!
Oh my god. I'm actually going to Taiwan.
posted by Shannon @ 10:42 AM
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