Paczkis, pizzas, stoplights, and sun

So, I knew it. I'm a crappy blogger (well, at least where frequency is concerned). The last time I posted, I wasn't pregnant. Now I'm 24.5 weeks along. I blame facebook, mostly. It lets me blurb random thoughts. Here though, I can go a little deeper, so I'll attempt that now. Without further ado...

I was trying to explain Paczki Day (and paczkis, in general, pronounced "poonch-key") to my Coloradoan coworkers with limited success and it got me thinking about various differences I've noticed between Michigan experiences and my new corner of the world. Here are a few in no particular order:

1. Paczkis bring up the issue that makes me saddest (besides missing you, of course): Food.

Don't get me wrong, there is very good food here. I'm learning a benefit of living in a small town is that you can't survive with a crappy restaurant; people talk, and no one will eat crappy food. We have places that serve the best ribs and wings you've ever had. J.H. Chen's in Glenwood Springs even has delicious sushi, which we started to doubt we'd find. It's good, we don't go hungry.

But I miss variety, spice, ethnic food galore. While there's a decent selection of Mexican & East Asian foods, forget about all things Mediterranean. I found a local deli that does a good gyro, but almost no one out here has ever heard of a shawarma. Sad, sad, sad.

And you would think Italian food is everywhere, lots of goodies to be had? Nope, the best Italian food I've found is made in my kitchen. If you want pizza, just get a DiGiorno, for crying out loud (or drive an hour to Grand Junction and get Old Chicago). My students were lamenting that the local Domino's closed (which does suck when that's your only option). Still, I listened in horror as one student exclaimed, "You know who has really good pizza, though? Cici's!" Poor, deprived children. I got my student who summers in NYC to back me up that there is a big wide world of much better pizza out there. I think the problem is that most pizzerias I've come across don't see much difference between pizza sauce and marinara. Dolly's Pizza is right: The secret IS in the sauce!

This makes me think of a map my linguistics teacher showed the class once. It shows how accents spread across the country. There is a ton of variety on the east coast, but it lessens as you work westward. This has to do with immigration and ethnic groups setting up little enclaves as they landed, but the assimilation that occurred as they gradually moved west. I think the same thing must happen with food.

2. If you are from a non-mountainous region, and I told you I was going "up to Aspen" this weekend, you would likely assume I was heading north for the excursion. Not so. Aspen is south (well, really southeast) of Rifle. But locals determine whether they are going "up" or "down," not in terms of direction but elevation, which actually makes a lot of sense. But when you've spent your whole life thinking in terms of north, south, east, and west, there's an adjustment to be made. None of this tells me which direction to head, but I am learning to instinctively figure out my current elevation.

3. Driving. Okay, I understand (and have even felt the surge of) road rage. I get drivers who are harried, irritable, and all around aggressive. But I grew up with a ton of traffic (and my dad). I don't expect to get anywhere on time during rush hour.

But life is a little slower here (I swear my weekend is longer than before). On the plus side, I-70 posts a 75 mph limit. They can do that because (at least near my home) it will rarely be crowded. The exception might be a snowstorm or an accident (I actually haven't seen one of these since I've been here, though I'm told they do happen).

On the other hand, drivers are courteous, sometimes plodding, to a fault. I've been stopped at a 2-way stop sign, and had oncoming traffic -- with NO STOP SIGN -- stop and wave me through. WTF. This has happened more than once. Bless their hearts, I worry this will cause an accident.

Oh, and you know how in Michigan it's perfectly acceptable and expected to make a left on a yellow light? Don't do that here. I got honked at when I did it. And the yellow lights are timed differently (read: blink of an eye). Yellow means "stop if humanly possible," not "proceed with caution, make your turn, etc." The light WILL turn red on you in a hurry and cameras are everywhere.

4. Sun, glorious sun. Okay, if it sounds like I'm complaining about this place, I really do like it here. The sun is a big part of that. It's a part of why we decided we could move here. Colorado boasts 300+ sunny days every year. I was trying to explain to my students what it's like to winter in a place where you won't see the sun for 2-3 weeks at a time. They couldn't quite wrap their brains around it, because here, it may be raining or snowing, but you can be reasonably assured that shortly after that's over, the sun will be back and won't leave for a while. When we got our first snowfall back in October, some Michiganders teased us, "Oh, still glad you moved there?" But you know what? That snow melted pretty darn fast. Most of it has. Now, the downside of an area where the sun melts the snow in most cases is when you get a cold snap and folks are at loss on how to melt remaining ice, but it's a trade-off, I suppose. I see the sun most days and am a happier person for it.

p.s. If anyone wants to mail me paczkis, you'll be my hero. :)