Either I’m just clumsy, or New York hates me.

First, I hit my head while getting in to the cab. I tried not to look at it as an omen and just the result of misjudgment on my part.

Today, I smashed my finger on the gate of the elevator. It’ one of those old school elevators. It has a gate and a single door (like you’d use to open your bedroom or house). It’s a hassle, especially when you have your luggage with you.

I almost cried — form the pain, frustration and home-sickness — in the cab, but reminded myself that it would smear my mascara.

The past day and a half hasn’t been all bad. I presented a paper on UC admissions with my co-worker in a roundtable format, met up with some friends and didn’t get lost. Later, I had dinner with Sean, watched Lost and narrowly beat my host at Rock Band (actually, it was a draw, but I did beat him at the last song, Creep). I left Harlem for Union Square where the Hispanic Special Interest Group of the AERA was hosting a party. I saw friends I rarely (if ever) see at UCLA and met some new people.

I hope the next few days here are injury free.

Cross your fingers.

I kinda really like Austin.

The weather — at least since I got here on Tuesday — has been perfect. The beer is good. The food is yummy. And most importantly, the people are awesome (hi, César and Rachelle, Erica and Soren, Victor, David and Jay).

My trip to Austin was cut short due to crazy weather on the Dallas end. I feel like I’m rushed trying to get in a minute or two with all the cool people I know and “know” (via the internets). I’ve “known” some of these people for close to 4 years. Four years! It’s a little weird to finally meet, but also really cool. You can just talk about life or throw Vulcan and Westside signs outside of a hipster East Austin bar/café (okay, I think it’s really weird to have a place where you can buy both beer and coffee… crazy!).

Some of the others on my list of awesome people are friends from graduate school. They were pseudo-mentors who helped me figure out how to do something using SPSS (a statistical program), motivated me when I really wanted to leave the program, or just listened to me blabber on about some guy. I’m really grateful for their friendship.

My host tried to recruit me to move out here like she did. I asked if she gives the Austin sales pitch to everyone who visits. She responded, “no, only the good people.”

I don’t know where I’ll end up after grad school. I’ve never ruled out moving out of California when I begin my professional career (not that I know what that will be), but I know no place will measure up to LA.

I miss home. Eight more days.

I arrived in Chicago last Wednesday afternoon and returned to LA on Sunday morning. It snowed one day and was cold and damp for the remainder of my trip. As soon as I left, I’m told the weather got “nice.”

I returned to LA on Sunday morning and found mostly sunny skies, a few wisps of clouds, and 60-something degree weather. I left this nice weather on Tuesday morning.

I arrived in Washington D.C. on Tuesday afternoon. It was cold and cloudy, but not rainy.

Can anyone guess why I love LA?

Dear Chicago,

Why can’t you be warm for my visit? I understood the 19 degree temperature in February, but it’s officially spring. I hope by the time I leave on Sunday the snow and rain has stopped ’cause I want to like you, but how can I get to know you if I’m miserable and cold.

Love,
Cindylu

P.S. Don’t blame it on Canada.

As usual, need to get back to some huge family gathering. I sent my dad the following email yesterday afternoon. I thought he might be amused.

They lost my clothes!

Well, not really but the plane was really tiny and apparently all the luggage didn’t fit. It probably didn’t help that I was one of the last people to check in and got to the gate 3 minutes before they started boarding.

I have to wait until tomorrow to get clean chonis and stuff. At least I have my toothbrush and camera. I just had clothes in the suitcase, I guess it’s not that bad. The worst thing isn’t that it happened, but I felt that it might happen and thought to myself that I should pack a pair of chonis, clean socks, bra and tshirt in my carryon bag in case this happened. But I didn’t. D’oh!

Love,
your jet-setting daughter

As with all my travels, I’m always doing things at the last minute. It was about 11 when I got to the airport and I had a 12:40 flight. Oops.

The plane really was tiny. I don’t think it fit more than 60 or 70 people. I’m short, but even I felt like the ceiling was way too low. The aisle was narrow and one side was one seat and the other two seats. I seriously thought I was going to have some sort of panic attack because I hate tiny, enclosed spaces. But I survived and took a nap with Ozo, the monkey, as my pillow.

My clothes arrived earlier than I expected at 2:30 am today. I opened the door to the room where I was staying with my tia Angeles and found my suitcase. Cool. Clean clothes!

I didn’t tell my dad that I was more upset about forgetting to bring my 256 mb memory stick for my camera. It’s at home in my laptop. All I have is a small 16 mb memory stick. I can take 24 pictures. I’ll try to make them good.

Civic Center, San Francisco

On Sunday, I found out that I had to be in San Francisco on Thursday. This is another business trip, but I’m looking forward to being a “whiteliner” at the UC Regents Meeting. According to one of the UCSA staff, it’ll probably be tough to distinguish between all the white men in suits. Fun times.

The Civic Center BART station will be my stop and then I go to my hotel tonight. Anyone want to take me to dinner?

The beach is 5 minutes away (on foot). And no, I have not gone, but I do have a [farmer's] tan.

This is day 4 in San Diego and I’m ready to go home.