Big State, Small Taste

If I may begin with an analogy:

A young man 21 years of age walks into a grocery store. After passing the watermelons and cabbage heads, items much too bulky to fit in his small, red backpack, he pauses among the wine selection. He scratches his head a while and buys a bottle for two dollars. That evening, he uncorks it with a small "pop", and watches the burgundy flow into his chalice. He wafts its curious aroma and sips. Judging by its price, he knows it must be déclassé, yet when sloshing this first taste around his tongue, he's captivated by its sharp attack and appeased by the slight quiver in his head.

This purely hypothetical illustration synopsizes my first two weeks in California. I arrived in L.A. on the day of the rapture, and wasn't surprised to see business as usual passing through Hollywood on the way to my summer apartment in Thousand Oaks. The city, affectionately known as T.O., or even Toaks from some of its more playful residents, is home to biotech behemoth Amgen and presumably many oak trees. From what I could tell initially, that was about it. And so, departing from Michigan's warm, mitten-clad grasp, I watched the world crumble beneath me and set foot into a blank canvas: "Summer 2011: California".

It feels like a daunting task - seizing a golden state opportunity that desperately calls to be enjoyed to the brim. Yet what can one do in a completely new region when without friends, a car, or a key to his apartment? Well, first was to call a locksmith to make keys to the apartment. But what then? Though my imagination had been saturated with sandy beaches and west coast parties, I had to start small.

My first day, I found the thread I was looking for - the final leg of the Tour de California bike race was set to occur in downtown Toaks! I haven't seen so many guys hauling ass on bikes since I watched E.T.!

I also had the chance to meet my roommate Reuben, from Houston. He, much like the other Amgen interns I've met so far, is easy to get along with and slightly obsessed with chemistry.

On the first day of work, the head of Amgen University Relations led me and about 40 other interns to a windowless room and told us to take a seat. At each place, sitting ominously above a small folder, was a Rubik's cube. At that point I knew their "orientation session" was merely a charade, and that the cubes would likely self-destruct if not solved in under ten minutes. I was relieved to realize that the cubes were just for fun, and whoever solved it first was to receive a small dufflebag. I made decent progress, solving one side as the staff proceeded to welcome us and lecture us on company issues, yet failed to win the grand prize. Reuben slyly attempted to color his cube with a permanent marker, but was aptly sniffed out by the staff - after all, it's any drug discovery company's biggest challenge to avoid false positives.

Since that first day, I've completed hours of virtual training, acquainted myself with the lab and its nefarious incubators, and even managed to have some fun with friends. Travis, Eddie, Reuben and I went to L.A. for some delectable Korean BBQ, and Adam, Helen, Nick and I braved the Santa Monica mountain passage on our way to a windy Malibu beach. Add a few large eBay packages to the mix (a bike and guitar), and I'm feelin' pretty good. Sure, I'm not exactly living the California Dream quite yet, but the first few brushstrokes have been deftly applied.

And for someone who's never exactly uncorked a fine Chateau d'Yquem, this $2 stuff tastes pretty good.