Strange Town #1

This is the first installment of a series of short lists titled "Strange Town" that focus on the specifics that make East Coasters go "What?" in Arizona. They are best perused while listening to The Jam's "Strange Town":

1) Javelinas


The first week I was in Prescott, I was casually informed of the existence of these tiny demon pigs. They roam the suburbs in packs and are known to attack. Additionally, they smell like skunks and are "most active at night."
Your nightmares will thank me.

2) Bugs

Not only do genuinely dangerous creepy-crawlies like black widows and scorpions abound, but they are all way bigger than they should be. There is also a particular kind of shiny black beetle that I've never seen before. Locals call them "Rain Bugs" because they die easily and cover the streets after it rains (read: "monsoons"). They are the most pathetic insects I have ever been confronted with.

3) Wildfires

Controlled burns on the Thumb Butte have left the air super smokey. This guy is everywhere, serving as a consistent reminder that we're not in soggy New York anymore.

4) Driving

Arizona only provides its residents with one license plate (which I have a problem with), and some people get pretty creative when it comes to filling the extra space. The other day I saw a car that had a wooden fish screwed into where the back license plate should be. 

In a single day, my New York license plate may solicit a variety of responses:


To the person who drowned out my electro-pop with "Rhapsody in Blue"; thank you for a much needed dose of New York romanticism.

To the woman who honked at me for a mile and then yelled "NEW YOAAAAAAHHHRK" into my window as you passed by; thank you for a much needed reality check re: New York.

More thoughts to come,

Anna

The Halloween Oreo Saga

Yesterday I went to the market to get milk and cookies. But not just any cookies: Halloween Oreos. I got my milk and proceeded to the cookie section. Plenty of weird new Oreo flavors, but alas:

No Halloween Oreos.

No problem- they must be in the Holiday section of the store, I thought. Everybody carries Halloween Oreos around Halloween, I thought.

When I saw no special display, I went as far as to ask the store clerk whether they carried Halloween Oreos. He informed me that no, they did not, and I bought my milk and left the store cookie-less.

Hours later, I decided not to give up on the cause. I strapped on my helmet and road down the street to a different grocery store, that not only carried Halloween Oreos, but also had them on special. Needless to say, my grocery store loyalties have shifted.

Triumphant, I huffed and puffed back up the hill to my apartment, where I settled into the couch and savored each magnificent bite of orange-colored creme filling.

I thought that the best way to honor the only cookie that I would go through so much trouble for was with a blog post: it's the little things.

Much love and orange-colored creme filling,

Anna

Transitions

Prescott, Arizona. In August, Cara, myself, and minimal belongings left New York to impart on a grand adventure in the world of non-profitry. Wide-eyed and sun-burned, we surfed into town on a wave of bad news: Yarnell, AZ had recently suffered a massive wildfire that deeply scarred residents and surrounding towns.

Wild fires? What were we getting ourselves into?

Fast forward to October, and we're starting to develop a feel for the Prescott culture. It’s a community of two-steppers, beer-drinkers, and do-gooders. Both the weather and the people are saturated in South Western warmth, a welcoming (if startling) change from the New York affectation.

A lot is different here, and we hope to catalog Arizona's (wonderful) peculiarities within this blog. 

Now that the nights are cold and the zombie nerds are in full force, Cara and I are plotting Halloween shenanigans. I'm currently deciding whether or not I want to use temporary hair dye to portray Shelley Duvall ala The Shining, and Cara is brushing off her shoulder-pad-rocking skills for an epic rendering of Agent Scully. We are both fighting urges to buy ALL THE WIGS in the thrift stores around here. Seriously, there are boxes on boxes of wigs to be had.

Fall, here we come!

Love always,

Anna