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Memorizing Music

(I know it's been a long time, I've just been busy. But I really need to let this one out.)

I memorize music, and I do it really, really quickly. I'm one of those people that wants my music memorized the first or second day of rehearsal so I can spend the rest of the week focusing not on the notes, but on the technicalities of the pieces we are working on (by the way, I'm speaking strictly about marching/athletic bands, this doesn't really extend to a concert setting since the music does not really need to be memorized). How? I just can. Because that's just how my mind works. That's just how I do things. Some people are naturally gifted at certain things, and this just happens to be something I'm good at.

How my mind works? What does that mean? Let me explain.

I've known from a very early age that I memorize things well. My long term memory (I guess) is just good. How am I able to recap that game in 2007 play by play? Because I remember watching it and it stuck in my head.

Before I go on with this rant, realize that I have an absolutely horrible short term memory. I'm terrible at reading, which makes studying a real struggle. I can get away with certain things in school, but I find myself working a lot harder than I should for results that I consider subpar. So if it's not in my memory a few days afterwards, it's not going to stick.

So I have a good long term memory. At most times, it's great. I remember the great times, the precious moments, all that cliche stuff. But at many times, it can be a curse. And at these given periods, I sometimes feel as though I would do anything to not have it.

Remember those embarrassing moments in elementary school? Can you vividly recall how you felt, and do you painfully cringe when it pops in your mind? Okay, sure. But does you mind replay it in your mind on constant loop and let it control your mindset and your overall mood for big chunks of time? It happens to me, and much more frequently than I would like it to. 

When you have a mind like mine, you have a mind that likes to wander. This is a pitfall. I have ALWAYS overanalyzed everything. And more times than not, it's not in a good way. For example, when someone texts me saying "Can we talk about something after class?" or something of the like, most times it's not that big of a deal. Most times it's "Hey, we should talk about our plans to hang out on Friday" or "When do you want to finish that homework?" or something of the like. But it doesn't matter to me. Why? Because my mind wanders. And when it wanders, it stumbles upon the bad scenarios. And when it stumbles upon bad scenarios, it finds the worst (but still plausible) one. And when that happens, it projects it as the expected outcome. So I'm stuck thinking about it all class, all day, all week even. And it affects everything. I get nervous, I get rattled, but most of all, my mood goes down the drain. I can't think straight. I can't concentrate. I just don't become approachable anymore. I have problems sleeping, because I keep seeing it all in my head when I'm trying to drift into slumber. I just feel...shitty (for lack of a better term). It's resolved, of course, when I confirm my overanalyzations to be incorrect, and I have a huge sense of relief. But all that stuff beforehand, it's terrible. And my mind can't get over it.

Why am I bringing this up? Well, obviously something's going on in my life where something like this came up. And it's true. Except that thing that projected in my mind as expected outcome...was actually the outcome. And as much as I want to get over it, I can't. My mind won't let me.

The event: it doesn't really matter anymore. It's not relevant anymore. So why is it bothering me? Because that long term memory is kicking in. That mind wandering is dominating my mindset. And I can't get it out, no matter how hard I try. I'm told to relax and chill out about it, but how can I if I don't have control over it? I know I'm overreacting, but what can I do? Time right now is my only healing factor. Eventually, my mind will concede that there is nothing to be done about it. 

My senior year of high school, when I was denied section leader in favor of two juniors, I was in disarray. I couldn't believe it. I was a mess. I resented it for a long time. But now, it just doesn't matter anymore. I can't go back and change what's already been done. And now it doesn't bother me. Is that what I need for this? Time? Because it heals all wounds? Maybe. Right now, I guess I need to try my best as to not let it affect me until time works its mysterious magic.

A slight tangent, but still relevant. People that know me know I love, I mean, LOVE, sports. Why do I like sports? There are lots of reasons. I grew up with them around me. I like the feeling of competition. I loved participating in sports when I was younger. When I watch sports, the atmosphere is what I live for, whether it's actually physically being present at a game or being at my apartment with my friends huddle around a TV. To me, they are the ultimate reality show. Nothing is scripted. Nothing is known. There is speculation, but no guarantees. With other TV shows, SOMEONE knows how something will go, because it's all part of a script. With sports, it's all "improvised". You never know what is coming next. No one does. Coaches and players know what play they are running but not what the other team has in mind. To me, all of these are contributing factors. But recently, I realized the biggest reason why I love sports: because when I watch sports, when I engage in sports, everything else that is going on in my life is moved to the back burner. I'll give you an example: a few weeks ago, I was standing there, watching our basketball team battle Tennessee and Kentucky in Indianapolis.. I felt ecstatic and anxious and nervous all at the same time. When we held on to defeat Tennessee, I was giddy and joyful, and at that moment nothing else mattered. But when Kentucky's game-winning three pointer dropped and ended our season, I felt disappointed. But, it wasn't a bad feeling. Why? Because again, nothing else going on in my life mattered at that given moment. I had officially escaped reality. Which is why when I got to tonight's game at Comerica Park to see the Angels and Tigers square off, the focus is on the game, and everything else going on in my life will be temporarily stored in another compartment of my brain. None of that will matter tonight during the game. And that, to me, is a great feeling.

For those who know me, I'm not going to really want to talk about this unless I initiate it. This is something I need to go through on my own. Feel free to read, but act as though it was never published. I just need some time to think (or I guess try not to think) about everything going on. Late April is a stressful time. Maybe when finals finish, time will hit a reset button and I can just go on enjoying the great things going on in my life right now. Sorry this rant was so long, for anyone that stuck through it from beginning to end. It feels good to write again. Hopefully I'll get to more writing over the summer when I have more free time on my hands. 

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Going Mathematics On Everyone

I have this theory, and it is shared by a bunch of my friends too, that as you get older, time seems to fly by quicker and quicker. This is because each unit of time becomes less and less in relation to your entire life as you get older.

For example, when you're five years old, a year is 1/5th of your entire life, or 20% of your life. But when you're 20 years old, a year is 1/20th of your life, which is only 2%, a measly amount in comparison to the 20% earlier calculated.

But this math only tells us what one particular year feels like. What if we want to denote a period of time?

Let's take myself, sitting at 20 years old, as the example. Let's split my lifetime into two segments, the first 10 years and the next 10 years. To calculate how much the two sets of 10 years of my life felt like in relation to my entire lifetime, we first take the first set of 10 years and calculate the sum of 1/n from n=1 to n=10. Using the assistance of Wolfram Alpha, this comes out to 7381/2520, or approximately 2.9290 (I'm just going to round to four decimal places for simplicity). Then to calculate the second set, we do the same thing from n=11 to n=20 (Note: doing the same for n=1 to n=20 and then subtracting the sum from n=1 to n=10 will yield the same answer), and get 0.6688. So what does that mean? Well adding the two numbers give us 3.5978. Now we can calculate how much each set felt like in respect to the entire 20 years, simply by dividing the two respective numbers by 3.5878. Doing the math, we get 2.9290/3.5978=81.4109% and 0.6688/3.5978=18.5891%. What do these numbers mean? That means that the first ten years of my life felt like approximately 81% of my life when years 11 to 20 only amounted to just over 18% of my life. These stats are kind of staggering, because that's basically saying my first ten years felt approximately four and a half times longer than my second ten years.

Now let's take this up a notch. The average lifetime in the United States is fairly close to 80 years of age (I'm optimistically taking the upper bound on this one). Let's take the sum from 11 to 80. This calculates to 2.0365. Already off the bat, you can see this is less than the sum from 1 to 10. Adding the two numbers yield 4.9655. For years one through 10, we get 2.9290/4.9655=58.987% and for years 11 through 80 we get 41.012%. So if you lived to 80 years old, the first ten years of your life amount to more than the last seventy!

Now of course, the brain is still developing in the first few years of your life, so you were probably not consciously aware of what you were doing when you were only one or two years old; as a result, the numbers will be a little exaggerated from the actual measurements. But my point remains valid. What am I trying to say? I'm not trying to make anyone depressed by saying that you've already wasted half of your life. What I am trying to say is that the time you have at any given moment is precious. Live in the moment. That's all. Because tomorrow, that second, that minute, that hour will be shorter than today. Today will always be a guarantee. Make the most of it.

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Half A Month Later

15 days has passed now. And how do I feel. Stressed. But that's for academic reasons. I'm happy as can be with my relationship, and I'm hoping things continue going the way they are.

I'm happy because I believe again. Last April I had nearly lost all hope and almost conceded to the "fact" that I was never going to find someone that I would ever have mutual interest in. It's amazing what just a span of a couple weeks in late April did for me. Now, not only am I believing again, but it seems for the first time I'm comfortable with who I really am. Because someone finally saw who I was and still accepted me to a level of intimacy I had never shared with anyone ever before. It's incredible how quickly things have gone well for me.

So where do I go from here? Well, simple. I continue to treat her the same way that I have: playfully comfortable, but also as best as I can. I like keeping this balance of comfortableness and honeymoon phase.

She keeps telling me about her past relationships, how they've gone downhill, how she's become the queen of three-month relationships. I'm not going to be another number. I'm going to be the exception. I'm not thinking that I'm 1/6th of the way there. I'm just getting started. We're just getting started.

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October 15th

This day just stands out among all others. And now more so than ever.

On October 15th, 2005, I had witnessed one of the greatest games ever. My family had taken the trip out to the midwest from California. My dad and my brother went to the Michigan vs. Penn State game, while my mom and I traveled south to South Bend to watch #1 USC put their 28 game winning streak on the line at Notre Dame. Michigan won 27-25 thanks to a last second touchdown, while USC won on a quarterback sneak with three seconds left to win 34-31. It was, and still is, the greatest game I've ever seen live (though Under the Lights 2011 is a very close second).

Eight years later, the day becomes that much better for me.

I've finally grasped what has eluded me for years. Finally I'll be able to not sleep because reality has finally surpassed my dreams. Laying with her in my arms, I felt happy. A different kind of happy. I don't really know how to explain it.

So I sit here, writing this post, listening to my current favorite John Mayer album, enjoying my fall break by being flat out lazy. Today was probably one of the best days ever.

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Two Years Later

It was a late August afternoon. Friday, I want to say. Yeah, because it was audition day. Definitely Friday. I stood where I was told to stand, and all of a sudden he walks up to me. I had no idea who he was, so naturally I looked at his nametag: "Patrick Fleming". I knew when I made it into the MMB, there was another "Fleming" on the roster. Well, I found him. Or rather, he found me.

How could I describe my first impression of him? Well, first thing I noticed was his smile, how it stretched from east to west across his face. I'm pretty sure he was wearing purple, fittingly. Oh, and another thing: he's African American. So naturally, he came up to me and said "So you're the other Fleming, huh?" "Yeah." "You think we're related?" The only answer I saw fitting was: "Maybe." We laughed, and immediately I knew we were going to get along.

Time went by, and I learned so much about him. How he actually went to the University of Michigan at Flint campus, but because he loved playing his trumpet so much he just had to be a part of the MMB.

In week two, Michigan faced Notre Dame in the first installment of "Under the Lights". Our show was a techno/rave show, meaning that we had to rehearse in the stadium Friday night. Patrick had been going through a tough week and didn't have his music memorized, and when he kept coming in at the wrong place, Professor Boerma stopped rehearsal and glared at him. "Patrick, you don't know your part! Who's the shadow for Rank J?" Wait, I'm the shadow for Rank J, I thought, as I meekly rose my hand into the air. Was this going to be my first opportunity to make the field at the Big House? So many thoughts were going through my head, as was Boerma's. Boerma stared at Patrick, then glanced at me, then back to Patrick. Back and forth it went. "Alright, everyone get water." Darn, I really thought I was going to make the field. Little did I know, though, that Boerma made the right call.

It was two weeks later that it happened.

Monday, September 26, 2011: I'm sitting in ECON 101 lecture, a 2:30 to 4 class. Of course, I had my laptop up, ecstatic that I had just made block for the next game. This joy, of course was shortlived. A few minutes later, someone started Facebook chatting me: "Hey, check out Patrick's wall." Okay. I typed in his name into the search bar, clicked on his profile, and all I saw on his wall were messages, from friends and fellow band members. RIP. RIP? What happened? No! It couldn't have possibly happened! This is impossible! But when I checked my emails and found out we weren't having rehearsal outside, but rather in Revelli Hall, I knew that it was now not far out of the possibility.

I arrived to Revelli Hall, only to see faces filled with tears, tears of losing a fellow member, a friend. It couldn't have happened, but it did. I didn't know how to react. Nothing like this had every happened. I couldn't imagine it possibly being reality. Just two days ago, he was as lively as I had ever seen, and now he was just...gone.

We all sat in Revelli Hall. There was no talking, just sounds of small cries and runny noses. Professor Boerma walks into the room, his eyes moist. It was a face of Boerma I had never seen, and have since that moment have not seen again. He stepped up to the podium, cleared his throat, and started to speak: "We...we lost a member today..." He stepped off the podium, clenched his fist and brought it up to his face. "I promised myself I wouldn't do this" he said. I had never seen him like that, breaking down in front of the entire band. He showed vulnerability, something I never imagined out of him. It just showed me how much of an impact this truly had. At the end There we were in Revelli Hall, and we all stood up and sang "The Yellow and Blue". The emotions were pouring out of me.

A few days later, rivalries were thrown aside. Both Michigan State and Ohio State had members of their marching bands make the drive to Ann Arbor in order to send their condolences. I was amazed. The rivalries we have with both these organizations is embedded deep within the roots of the participants, but in situations like this, we are all one in the end.

I remember going to both the open casket ceremony and the funeral. And the feelings that I felt when I saw him at peace in his MMB uniform. It hit me. It hit me hard. I was so emotional just seeing him in uniform, because I felt as though he was still a part of this organization, yet he was not with us anymore. Many of us couldn't handle it, as some of us rushed outside to cry. I almost lost it several times. How do you keep strong when you see your fellow member in that state? And the funeral was also difficult. Witnessing everyone, including Professor Boerma, spill his emotions on the topic of Patrick just got to me.

Weeks went by. The season, for the most part, was normal. For me, at least. That is, until Ohio State week. We decided to do the same show as for the Notre Dame game for the OSU game. When the block was released, I saw my name: J4. J4? Wasn't that Patrick's spot? The spot that I almost took from him all those weeks back? How do these things play out? How do I continually get associated with him? Whatever the reasoning, I knew what I had to do: I had to put on the best damn performance I could possibly imagine. And you better believe I did.

Fast forward to September 26, 2012. It was an emotional day. Flowers were brought to the tower. Nearly all the trumpets had either their M-Swag shirts on or some sort of purple. After rehearsal, we sang the Yellow and Blue, played the entire M Fanfare, and took a picture on the M to send to Patrick's family. I admit I cried.

And here we are, on September 26, 2013. It's just like any other rehearsal, but at the same time it's not. I again wear my purple M-Swag shirt, and will again probably break down emotionally at some point in the rehearsal. Because two years later, it still hurts. I still feel the pain that I felt that fateful Monday afternoon.

One thing i take from all of this: appreciate life. Appreciate your life, and the ones around you that make it what it is. Appreciate everyone, from your closest friends to your distant acquaintances. Because one day they may not be around anymore. That's what I learned. And that's how I will live from here on out.

Patrick Fleming, may you continue to rest in peace.

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Mentality Discrepencies

So she and I (yes, that girl, if you know me and follow my life) were talking a week ago or so. She told me something interesting, that it seems that no matter what she does, she always comes off as flirtatious. And I thought about it for a second and gave her this answer.

Take two people, two females, for that matter. We'll call them A and B (since I do not possess any form of creativity). A is very attractive: pretty, fun to be around, intelligent, basically just everything you (if you are a guy, and if you are a girl, pretend in this case that you are a guy) could want within a significant other. B is alright. She's somewhat attractive, but still a really good person. Extremely nice and everything.

So you know both A and B. They both have the same interest in you, whether that be significant or not at all. But let's say for this case that they're both testing the water. Or you could even say A is neutral, whereas she would make you a possible dating option but hasn't made it definite in her head yet, while B is very interested and knows she would be happy being in a relationship with you.

A and B will literally treat you in the same ways. Or B could possibly treat you better. But what do most guys interpret from these interactions. "A is being really flirty, I think I have a legitimate chance with her." What about B? "She's a really good friend."

Wait, what? They literally interacted with you the same way as the other, or even the case where B was being more flirtatious, and you think that A is the one being more flirtatious? Why?

Here's why: because that's what your brain wants you to think. And do you know what that's called? That's, to an extent, is called "friendzoning".

I know how shallow this may sound, but unfortunately, this is, in most cases, the truth. It happens. It's happened to me, it's happened to my friends. It's a sad truth, I know, but I can't really change the mentality of everyone.

Sigh, people.

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Going From A Seemed Guarantee to a 50-50

Wow, there isn't much worse feelings for me.

Sorry for the lack of updates, it's just too much going on in life right now.

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Should the United States Boycott the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi, Russia?

The short answer: no.

The long answer?

This is the second time that the Olympics, summer or winter, will be held on Russian soil. The first were the 1980 summer games held in Moscow. And anyone that knows their world history will quickly point out that this was right in the midst of the Cold War. In 1980, President Carter boycotted the games in response to the Soviet Union's refusal to pull out of Afghanistan. As a result, the Soviet Union found it reasonable to boycott the 1984 Los Angeles Summer Olympics in retaliation.

In Russia's second go as host of an Olympic games (being the winter games this time around), many activists are calling for a second boycott of the games. The boycotters are coming from both sides. The right wing conservatives are angry at Russia providing asylum for Snowden, whom Republicans consider an American traitor (whether he's a traitor or not is a matter of opinion and of a completely different argument, so I will not go any further). The left wing liberals wish to boycott because of Vladamir Putin's public stance on gay rights; Putin recently passed new anti-gay laws, including banning "homosexual propaganda", among other things.

Yes, there's reason to boycott. But that's not the issue that's at hand. The Olympics are meant to bring all nations, regardless of what's going on in the world (few exceptions being the two World Wars, of course), and celebrating a worldwide event that only occurs every two years. The only other event that I think even comes anywhere close is the World Cup every four years, but only 32 teams out of 209 countries qualify for it so there are plenty of countries everywhere don't have any sort of representation whatsoever.

And think of the athletes. The athletes that have waited their whole lives for this opportunity right here, and only to have it stripped away by a social issue and a constant feud between two countries? How unfair it is for them.

Just to make things clear, I'm not for Putin's anti-gay laws, and never will be while they're still in effect. My reasoning for not boycotting is not because I think that these laws are in any way reasonable, but because of the integrity of the Olympic games and what the games stand for.

You would like to think we as humanity have progressed in civil rights since 1980. Sigh, I guess one can always hope.

[journalofacaliforniawolveri-blog]

Withdrawal

I hang out with her all the time. Literally, among our group of friends we are always asking what we're up to for the day. We're friends, and it's been clear the last three years that it's going to stay that way. Never would I want to think about ever going for her. We would be compromising for each other, too much to ever be serious. It's inevitable, and I honestly like it better being friends. It's the best thing. That other path was years ago, the old naive high school version of me, this isn't what you want.

Mind, what's going on? Why do you have this urge to be close to her. Stop. STOP! Just, don't screw this up. I don't want to, can I not make that any clearer?

In bed, drifting asleep. Slowly I fall into my ethereal and ever-wandering thoughts. My mind meanders into different memories of the recent. Thoughts of what people are doing, what I'm doing.

Over time I slip into involuntary mode, and my mind is in complete control of what I'm witnessing.

I open my eyes (in my dream that is). Where am I? Not entirely sure. I look around. No people. I walk around, and eventually people of my life start appearing out of the blue. That guy from that one class, that other guy that lived in my hall, so on and so forth. Then she appears. A different one. A much more recent one, one not even a year ago. What's she doing here? I have no control. My subconscious has taken full control. I can't, she's way too different from me. But I move closer to her. I start talking to her. She's vibrant and social. One thing after another, my hands are around her. We're smiling. We're happy. I don't want to be. She's not her.

Consciously and subconsciously, the withdrawal has killed me. Something that has eluded me for years, whether it was because my prospect wasn't interested or vice versa, has finally come into my life, only to slip away so immediately.

And it's because of this that I'm wanting, not the former crushes, but rather the intimacy. I miss the proximity, the close and personal conversations, the holding in each others' arms.

Sigh, I thought. But my mind was kind to me just days later. More and more dreams had her presence. And that made me internally...peaceful.

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I Promise

Now that the summer is coming to a close and I'm going to just have more to write about, I'll be more active on this blog, I promise.

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"There's Nothing to Do in Irvine"

I hate it, absolutely HATE it, when people say there's nothing to do in Irvine. When I hear people talk about Irvine to another person, one of the first things that person say is "Oh, there's not really much to do in Irvine, it's kind of boring." Bullshit. You're either stuck up and picky about what you want to do or you're just not looking hard enough.

The first thing that comes to mind when I think about this great city is the fact that it is safe to a near unreal scale. It's incredible to think about how much crime the city does not experience. Irvine is very utopian, if you look at it in a grand scheme of things. The houses, in certain neighborhoods, all look the same. I guess the Vine is most known for the Spectrum, and for those of you unfamiliar with what this is, it's basically just a big outdoor mall at the southeastern part of the city.

So as far as what to do in Irvine. In addition to the Spectrum, there's: a college, with plenty of plazas surrounding it, two bowling alleys, Boomers, the Great Park, in addition to plenty of other parks to visit, bike trails, hiking trials, plenty of places to grab boba, yogurt, other noms, etc., and the list goes on and on and on. And there are plenty of places in the vicinity that you can go to. Newport, Huntington, Laguna, and all those other surrounding areas that are less than a half an hour drive all have plenty of things to do. The excuse of not being able to do something on a Friday or Saturday night is completely invalid. You can't possibly tell me there is absolutely nothing to do.

For anyone that tells me that there's nothing to do in Irvine, the first thing I tell them is "Go to a small town, one out in the middle of nowhere, and then tell me that there's nothing to do in Irvine." Usually there's no response.

But is part of it because we all say there's nothing to do in Irvine? Are we left to believe that when we are told more times than not that something is to be upheld as the status quo, we are automatically inclined to follow it? Why do I find that the majority of the people that I meet (and majority does not encompass the entirety, let me assure you) take what they are told and mold it into their beliefs. True I have performed the same exact practice in the past, but I'm trying to be more conscious of my efforts and attempting to not let what someone tells me. I feel as though if more people did so, Irvine wouldn't be so notoriously known as the city where "there's nothing to do". Because frankly, I just don't believe that's true.

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Exposure to the Real World

The real world is a scary place. Just last Friday there was an incident where I was hanging out with two of my friends. Amidst our conversation about taking a possible road trip to northern California, we were approached by two strangers that wanted to put in their input. The conversation diverged into talk about the government, how the state of California is basically fucked up beyond repair. It wasn't the greatest of conversations. I never felt threatened, but there were times that I could see one of my friends in an unsettling state. My other friend and I decided it was best to leave (it was nearing 11 pm anyways), and after dropping off the other friend, the two of us just talked about exposure to the real world.

What do you do, as a parent, if you are given a window of opportunity to move to the city voted the #1 safest city in the entirety of the United States for six consecutive years? Most sensible people, and myself included, would immediately take advantaged of said opportunity, because you would want your child to grow up in a safe environment, and there's no tradeoff right?

Well, when people ask me why I decided not to even apply to UC Irvine, my answer is simple: I want to get out of this damn city. Irvine is a great city, But it's a bubble. It lives up to it's nickname. You just don't run into any kind of threats in this city.

So what happens when you leave? You're left with practically no experience of how to defend yourself when confronted in a situation.

Look, I've never had to deal with any of this in Ann Arbor, and hopefully never will. But if a situation like that were to happen, how would I handle it? Questions.

As a parent, do you want your child to know how to handle these situations? Because if you do, how do you give them that experience? I wouldn't want my kid exposed to this stuff as a middle schooler. Even a high schooler makes me uneasy. Even at any time gives me an unsettling feeling.

I guess it's more that people need to know, not to necessarily have experience. If they do, that's great if they are successful and know what to do in the next similar situation.

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Another Uneventful Night

I want to take walks with people. At night. One, two, three, seven other people, it doesn't really matter to me. And I want to just talk. About anything. From the most trivial of things to the meaning of life itself. Conversations that require either little recollection or the deepest of thinking. Anything. Sigh, once again, I feel that summer is dragging on.

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Take A Walk

With nothing really to do, I impulsively decide to walk through my neighborhood, for no other reason but to ponder about things going on in my life. Of course, specifically one, for those of you intently following me. The night is warm, warm like summer. I have no need for jeans nor a jacket, as what I already wear is plenty enough. As I walk out, a flurry of thoughts pour into my head, with the same question: how? How am I going to last the entire summer? It's been two weeks, and at least twelve more to go. How will I be able to manage this situation from now until then? And how will I handle it when the time comes? These questions have been constantly popping up into my head and I find it difficult to put an answer to them. My walk to Trailwood Park was uneventful, the only constant noise being the chirping of the crickets situated in the plants alongside the sidewalk. Occasiaonally I'll step on a dry leaf and break the silence momentarily. At other times I'll pass by another person. I would glance at their vacant expressions, wondering what kinds of things are flowing through their mind at this particular moment. What is going on through their life that causes them to walk out on this warm evening? What kinds of things are going on in their life? Maybe we could relate. Walking through the night, I feel this sense of nostalgia. Last time I ventured through the night on foot, I was accompanied. This time, I set out alone. Both my arms dangling on my side, with the right one feeling a void of not wrapping itself around someone else. There are no words that come out of my mouth, for there is no one listening. Instead of a smile stretching across my face, and blank emotionless expression replaced it. I'm alone. I finally reached the park, and decided to stop at one of the benches. I looked at the park, one that I had spent so much of my childhood familiarizing myself with. But when I got there, the joy of seeing and remembering moments from my childhood was gone. The play structure, the one I had memorized to the bolts and screws, was replaced. It was a blow, yes. But is this a microcosm of people? How people can change when you don't see them for a long period of time? Possibly. Maybe to a lesser degree, but at some kind of degree nonetheless. I guess the only favor I ask for this summer is to keep the other play structure in tact. Just the way it is.

[journalofacaliforniawolveri-blog]

It's strange to think about, but when you step back it's not that terribly strange.

While I was in high school, no one among my group of friends ever rooted for any Detroit-area teams. It was always Lakers, Angels, Dodgers, etc. No one ever rooted for the Tigers or the Red Wings, or any of them. And part of that made me root for them even more so than I normally would have. I was ecstatic when the Tigers finally made it to the World Series in 2006, and more so when the Red Wings finished off the Penguins in the 2008 Stanley Cup Finals. No one was around to root for them.

But in my heart, I knew I was a southern California fan first, Detroit fan second. And going to Michigan and living amongst a crowd of in-staters brought that out of me.

Constantly being surrounded by Red Wing fans during this past season meant the same thing. It's not that I've become less of a Detroit fan over the past season, I've just expressed my fanhood for the Ducks more so than I thought I would.

So this series between the Ducks and Red Wings served as an exemplification of my dedication to the Ducks organization. I rooted for the Ducks, more so than I would have a few years back, because there was no one else around to do so. To be able to be the lone one against the pack, with my true team surging ahead of the surrounding people's team, would've been a feeling of exuberance for me. Unfortunately, that's not the case. This doesn't mean that I will root against the Red Wings the remainder of the playoffs because they eliminated my team, but I feel a slight sense of bitterness at the fact that things played out the way they did.

Then again, there's always next year. Go Ducks!

[journalofacaliforniawolveri-blog]

Rediscovering A Love for a Beautiful State

It's not that I never had a dislike for this state. I've always loved this state. I've always loved what it has offered; its weather, its coastline, its everything. But from these last three days, I've made new discoveries and have lived some rediscoveries. Places that I knew about, but never ventured out to explore. But with friends from Michigan coming in, I needed to show them some of the greatest spots of the southern part of this state.

Day One We begin our adventures to the great city of LA. Set off first to a local favorite in east Los Angeles called El Tepayac. If anyone watches Man vs. Food, it was one of the places Adam Richmond went to. The restaurant is famous for the Manuel Special, which is a five pound beast that I dare not go near. Instead, I got a half order and needed help to finish it off. Afterwards, we took a detour to the inland and briefly drove by the Rose Bowl (in hopes that it won't be our last visit to the stadium within the next year). We then made our way to Hollywood, which was...okay. It was my first visit in a long time (maybe ever?), and it just didn't seem like there was as much of a deal made as there must have been back in the 60s and 70s. After getting on the 10 west, I decided to take a detour through Beverly Hills, seeing all the places you always see in the movies and everything. There was also a hexagonal intersection! (And that thoroughly confused me). And Rodeo Drive was so high class it was almost ridiculous. After all that, we continued west on the 10 to the end of the freeway, and stopped in Santa Monica. Which is gorgeous! I've only driven around Santa Monica in the past, but never taken the time to stop and walk around. We walked along the famous pier, and around the beach area surrounding it. We ate at the little downtown area, which was a very nice lively place. Santa Monica definitely took the cake for the highlight of the day, at least for me.

Day Two Beach! After buying stuff for a bonfire, we drove down to Laguna, and took PCH up towards Huntington. The drive is beautiful, driving by the coves of Laguna, the marine areas of Newport, everything. Finally we reached Huntington and settled at a pit. Chilling, throwing a baseball around, sort of getting into the water. We made our way to Huntington Pier (which, from where we were, was a lot longer of a walk than I had anticipated). After killing about two hours, we came back to our pit and attempted to start a fire, which we eventually did. Of course we did the whole hot dogs and smores thing while watching the sunset go down over the water/coastline area. It was a nice reminder of why I love bonfires during the summer, and I'm hoping that will not be the only one of the summer.

Day Three San Diego bound! I hadn't been to San Diego in over five years, let that be known, so I was going into somewhat unfamiliar territory. I had forgotten almost all about this city, so I wasn't really expecting what the city had to offer. We went to the zoo and spent most of the afternoon there. It was good to spend time at a zoo, especially one of the prestige that the San Diego Zoo boasts. Even me, not really a zoo person, found myself having a good time. For anyone that knows me, I love beaches, and I love the coastline. My thought was to drive along the coastline briefly just south of Mission Bay, knowing that our final day (tomorrow) we weren't really going to see any ocean or coastline of any sort. On the drive, I looked around and took in the city. I kept thinking how cool and ideal it would be for me to someday reside in the San Diego area. Then we got to Sunset Cliffs, and I was immediately hooked onto the aforementioned idea. The cliffs had some pretty spectacular views. And what made it even better was that we could park and climb on these cliffs, down almost to where the water met the land. The sun was hanging low, not closing in on sunset, but low enough for the water to glisten a sparkling reflection across the surface. All four of us just stopped and took it in. What have I been missing all these years? San Diego is a pretty damn awesome city!

My friends leave for Michigan tomorrow night. Which makes me sad, because that is an entire summer. At the earliest, first week of August is the next time I will see them. Meh. This summer is going to drag on.

[journalofacaliforniawolveri-blog]

The Long Summer Ahead

Don't get me wrong. I love summers in Southern California. I love every bit of it. The beach, the perfect coastline weather, the fact that I can pick and chose who to hang out with among my high school friends. But this summer just has a different feel to it.

For those of you that keep up with this blog on a regular basis, you are aware of my current situation with a girl back in Michigan. Which means you are probably able to put the pieces together on why I'm not overly excited for this upcoming summer.

This void that has dominated my life for so long is finally in a position to be filled, But at this timing. Sigh.

This summer is going to feel like it's going to drag on. Excited for this upcoming week when I got some Michigan friends visiting. Excited to show them all that southern California has to offer.

But the remainder of summer. The latter half of May, the entirety of June, and most of July. What am I going to do? I'm looking to get a job at a local golf course, just for some sense of income. But other than that, I just don't know how I'm going to get through the entire summer.

My hometown friends, please help occupy my time by any means necessarily please.