Party party party!

Come dressed up

[ esca | 10:02 AM | ]

 

I don't think that I am the easiest person to interact with, as in, real interaction. I mean, I can handle the office small talk really well, crack small jokes, put people at ease. I'm the best two minute conversationalist while waiting for a printout that I know. But in the world of actually sharing details about life...well, let's just say that there are a lot of obstacles to navigate.

I suppose that's the case with everyone, as we all put up walls and barriers for our own protection. Our friends and loved ones are given the keys to our doors. Me? I'm the like the guy with the big house that a lot of people are welcome to visit, but with those few rooms that remain closed at all times. Most people are too polite to ask why. But there are always a curious few.

You may think you've entered the fortress of solitude, but unless you hear the creepy music in the background...you're still standing the foyer. Hang your coat here, and please watch your step.

[ esca | 9:51 AM | ]

 

The Padres got Giles, the Padres got Giles. ^______^

[ esca | 12:52 PM | ]

 

Crabby like Sebastian, but lacking the musical number.

Monday morning conscious memory began with someone banging down my door, figuratively, asking/demanding me to move my car as they were repaving. Grabbed whatever clothes happened to catch my eye, wetting my hair just enough to look presentable and ran down to my spot. Noticed that a towing truck already in place and watched curiously as the tow person was attempting to pick open the door of the rx300 right next to me. He had one of those things that you poke through the window, but he unfortunately set off the alarm, and caused quite a commotion. I made eye contact with him and he looked away embarrassed I suppose, and I got into my car and drove away, thinking about how that could have been in store for my poor baby. Mondays are such a drag...

[ esca | 8:53 AM | ]

 

The Vacation That Didn’t Happen.

The last couple of weeks have been absolutely life like. In that, yes, a lot of the time, my life resembles a drudge filled simulacrum. Not that I can really complain, but rather, a typical day of mine is filled with busy tasks and few energizing interactions. Work, work, and more work, eat, warcraft, sleep, repeat, rinse and dry.

Thankfully, despite the disruption of vacation plans to new york, I was able to make the most of my time and actually had a mini-vacation all without leaving the confines of san diego. For four whole days I did nothing at all even vaguely resembling responsible behavior and it was a freaking boatload of fun.

Thursday nite was an action packed downtown adventure through the Yard House and the Red Circle. While at the YH, contemplated buying a full "yard" of beer but settled on a pint. Isabel was intrigued by the numerous televisions and I also particularly liked the 4x4 set of stacked TVs each with a different show. Wanted to show her the underground keg room(its like a treasure cove) but we were on a tight schedule and needed to get to the Red Circle before 11. We waited until Jenta showed up, and headed over with a bunch of people. We were the old MCHS crew along with the RBers and Michiganites. I got plenty wasted that night as I had cause to celebrate a promotion.

Speaking of which, what is the right way to celebrate a promotion? Sure, one part of me, would like to make it very publicly known, guess what? I rock. Be happy for me! Another part realizes that decorum and selectivity might be more appropriate. I hope people realize that the way I act is, I'm pretty stoked and would like to share my joy.

Friday morning started off with a slight hangover and my dad waking me up at 5:15 am to go to the airport. Lindberg field is a complete mess on friday mornings. To illustrate, there is about a 5-6 lane wide street that separates the terminal from the parking lot. This is where cars will drop off or pick up commuters. To get to the parking lot from the airport terminal and vice versa, they have an elevated walkway. The line to get through the security check that morning was so long, that it looped around the escalators, out of the airport terminal, and all the way across the elevated walkway to the parking lot. My oh my. By the time I finally got my boarding pass and sat down at my gate, I was ready to shoot myself. However, before I could load this imaginary gun of mine, I was summoned to the front desk. I already knew the bad news before I got there. JFK was closed indefinitely and my flight was cancelled. Look on the bright side, the guy said, at least you weren't stranded in the middle of the country before we told you. Words cannot begin to express... So about five hours later from when I first woke up, I went back to sleep in the warm cozy confines of my bed. Woke much up later and hung out with people, chilling late and into the early morn.

Sat turned out to be a pool day. We first met up at Des's house and her mom was nice enough to make lunch for us. It was a perfectly warm day that inspired the right amount of lethargy you need to bask in the sun next to a wet pool. I've forgotten how much fun it is to play stupid games like tea party and fetch in the water with friends. Goes to show you can never be too old to act childish. Jon was Mr Submarine, and at one point had us swimming in formations. We would cross like ships at sea, floating across the water with Jon lurking underneath. I played catch with Isabel for a while until she kept throwing the football out of the pool. I sensed she was deriving some sadistic pleasure from making me climb repeatedly in and out of the pool. To cap off all this boisterousness were 99 cent fish tacos from Fins. Between four guys + Isabel, we polished off eleven tacos in about 15 minutes. We then cruised the streets of RB at 80 mph(yes very safe) and hung out at Hong's to play some contra and super mario. I played some chess with Jon although we ended up with a stalemate. We then tried to show Isabel how to play Texas Hold'em, but if there was ever someone who was simply not meant to play poker, it is Isabel. I have never seen a person get so happy when they get their "card," and likewise so disappointed when they don't. Poker faces people, poker faces...

Sunday, I ended up going to church and hanging out with some people from that circle. We had lunch at Thaigo, which was good, and hung out a bit with Katy. I've been trying to figure out my personal motivations for going to church. Sometimes I just want to go, and a lot of times I don't. The way church people think and act and especially Katy, reminds me of the way I used to a long time ago. A simultaneously frustrating yet nostalgic feeling. We ended up meeting up with Jenta at Borders, a neat little trio of ivy league grads. Katy seems very drawn towards Jenta, and I've often wondered why that necessarily is. It is just because they came from the same school?

Do I feel drawn towards an unknown person with an ivy league background? I guess I do, in that I assume that they will at least be cognizant of the intricacies involved. The expectations, the intimidation, and even the resentment. We're supposed to be smart, but maybe also overly arrogant?

Later on that day, went down to Twiggs to hear Gene perform, or sorta. He really just sang one song because the water pipe in the coffee shop had broke earlier, delaying everything. He was the headline the night before, which I had missed, but I think this night I got a much better perspective of what goes on in the life of the struggling artist outside the performance. From what he described, there's a lot of tension, politics, fakeness...essentially the infusion of impure and non artistic elements into art. There's also a lot of personal turmoil and perhaps self doubt and your confidence can come into question. Are some people out to create, or are some people out for something else? Talking to Gene that night, I realized that he was in some ways asking, do people really care about what he does?

I also met up with Babbs that night and we had a interesting conversation about telepathic plants. I actually borrowed the inspiration of this idea from Trieu just a few days earlier. I've been wondering, if people and plants or anything alive is really want it seems. Just because we can't sense something, doesn't mean that it doesn't happen. If we were blind or deaf, it doesn't mean that world is blind and deaf. Even though a deaf man cannot hear sound, or for that matter know what sound is, sound still exists. A man who cannot see that an apple he is holding is of a red color, does not change that fact that he is holding a red apple. What if trees and animals all have a story to tell but we just cannot "hear"? What if human beings actually communicate telepathically and our spoken language is only a tool to help understand? Its like having a minimalist conversation carry more communicative content than a chatty and verbally diarrheic one. Babbs is a fun guy to go off into the deep end of thought with.

[ esca | 2:51 PM | ]

 

Freak....

Since all of the eastern seaboard apparently is out of electricity, my well planned trip to nyc has sadly been cancelled. Gosh...

[ esca | 9:41 AM | ]

 

Random time spaced thoughts...

My brother is leaving this weekend for UC Berkeley...Good luck, stay out of trouble, don't talk to girls for the first 3 months you're at school and you'll be fine.

I'm leaving for new york this weekend for some fun in the sun. I hope its not too humid or hot and that I successfully survive what could be a mind expanding ordeal.

My car is reaching the illustrious 1000 mi mark. Much to my dismay and chagrin, I was cruising home one night on the back roads of camino del norte a few day ago and was served my crow courtesy of a c320. I'm like Del La Hoya screaming, let me take my gloves off!

Isabel has come home and its like old times now except not too many people are here anymore. We watched this movie called Spun, which is both funny and interesting, about speed addicts. Spun, a term that is used to describe someone who's crashing from an extending period of using, was highlighted with a lot of rapid camera work and up close pupil dilation per Requiem, with the actors showing a lot of nervous tics and general paranoia. Its a little odd to think about, because I've seen these tendencies, in people I know and care about, and also in people I know but don't care about.

Chinese people are fairly modest in most degrees, except when it comes their progeny. Then it can be most adequately described as "shameless."

Is extraordinary pronounced "extra-ordinary" or "ex-traord-inary" ? Much like is often, pronounced "of-ten" or "off-en" ? Crucial information for the wannabe sophisticates. A bunch of us went to extraordinary desserts of hillcrest and waited a long time to get cloyingly sweet, rich desserts. I had a white chocolate linzer torte and it was chocolat parfait.

Everyone I know is unhappy about something, and I believe a lot of people are at the very least adept at expressing their unhappiness. However, I feel as if most people are lesser adept at expressing their feelings of joy. Not everyone, but maybe just the people I know. As in, having something to be happy or joyous about is almost embarrassing or immodest. As a result, the steady stream of whine flows ceaselessly. Ahhh joy.

Immaturity bugs me. However, perhaps in a resentfully envious way. I've identified older people as my peers and in an effort to keep up with the Joneses so to speak, I've had to toss aside a lot of my innocence and youthful tendencies. So whenever I meet a very young and impressionable person, I feel like ruining them. Is this bad? I'm not really asking that, mind you, more is this a unique perspective? You meet someone who could have been a "you" sometime way back and you want to see them run through the gauntlet.

[ esca | 9:59 AM | ]