Thursday Night Adventures

The beginning of a new semester is always exciting.  New classes, new books, new faces, new experiences.  So far I am loving my new schedule (four day weekend!!!).  Lots of time for “research.”  Actually.  I’m doing research for one of my communication professors.  It is quite exciting.  I feel important whenever I go up to the communication office, especially since I am getting to know all my professors on a more casual level.  It’s rather funny.  Then of course there’s the opera, and my own vocal recital is coming up.

A couple weeks ago, I decided to venture over to Costa Mesa.  It’s one of my new favorite places in Orange County.  Home to the South Coast Plaza, the Orange County Performing Arts Center (OCPAC), and an adorable park of handsome statues and artwork.  It is as close to culture as you can get in Orange County, without going up to Los Angeles.

OCPAC – Beethoven Piano Concerto

A few friends and I got dinner at the Boudin Bakery at South Coast Plaza (5th avenue in a mall, as my friend Caitlin put it).  Then took a walk through the park on our way to the OCPAC.  We heard two of Beethoven’s piano concertos and a couple other works.  It was an excellent night.  I got to escape for an evening, and revel in the beauty that is art and culture.  I used to love going to the symphony as a child.  We would go on school field trips, and every once in a while my parents would take me.  The fancy dresses, the smell of the theatre, the shiny instruments.  It was always and exciting experience.  This was a wonderful Thursday evening.  For a few hours I got to pretend I was back home, in my urban jungle of tall buildings, beautiful noises and great food.

Thursdays are a wild card night here.  Sometimes there are big parties, but most people hit the bars around midnight.  Many students have class until 10pm.  Those of us lucky enough not to, get a few hours of child-like fun to do whatever we want before heading out.  So I decided to invent a new game.  I call it “power grid – power hour.”

As the title suggests, we combined the games of Power Grid and power hour to create an awesome pre-(really, kind of nerdy)game.  For those of you unfamiliar with power hour, the rules are very simple.  You take a shot of beer every minute for an hour.  You can find themed playlists online to help you.  The song changes every minute for an hour to help you keep track.  It’s really quite fun.  You do this while playing our new favorite board game, Power Grid.  We knew before going in that we either wouldn’t finish the game, or we wouldn’t finish the hour.  So be prepared.

I highly recommend NOT playing Power Grid for the first time, while consuming too much alcohol.  The rules are complicated enough as it is, drinking will just throw you off.  But after you have played once or twice, it really is a fun thing to do.

Then of course hit the bars before you let it sink in that you may be a closet nerd.  My friend Maria called me nerdy once, when I mentioned to her that we used to play Settlers of Catan before Lost every Tuesday.  That’s a really fun game, I may like it better than Power Grid.  However it’s much less complicated.

Anyway, the point is…  College is short, and games are fun.  So play as many as you can.  (Life Rule #4)

And while we’re on the subject, last night (3rd Thursday), I saw Tron: Legacy in our school’s new 3D theatre.  I LOVE the soundtrack.  The movie is not great, but I enjoyed watching it.  The director of animation gave a Q & A after the show.  It bored my socks off (although I was wearing sandals).  So I left and met up with my new January friend.  We made quesadillas and guacamole and ate next to my outdoor fireplace.

Thursdays are a fun night to try new things.  They are not quite the weekend yet, so if you end up having a lame night, you get the next two days to make up for it.  Happy Thursdays!

Coffee Makes the World Go Round

I don’t know about you, but I LOVE coffee.  One of my favorite activities is catching up with old friends over a delicious vanilla latte.  In San Francisco, my absolute favorite coffee shop is called Coffee to the People, located on the corner of Haight and Masconic.

My friend Emma and I meet here regularly.  Everything from the atmosphere, to the coffee, to the local artwork on the walls makes me smile.  I love coming home to San Francisco, and breathing in the culture.  Like most large cities on the West Coast, coffee is a huge part of our culture.

Even if you do not drink the beverage itself, the environment is so welcoming and friendly, it is impossible to resist.  I remember going to a local coffee shop nearly everyday in high school.  It was our hangout spot.  We could sit for hours having interesting, intellectual conversations over coffee and occasionally cigarettes.  (We were weird).  And I miss that.  Even my college is not as coffee-friendly as my high school.

There is something about this mild stimulant that fosters such conversation and excitement.  Although I love a good party or kickback, sometimes I find that taking the time to talk to someone over a good cup of coffee, is even more meaningful and enjoyable.

If you are ever in San Francisco – or any new place for that matter, I encourage you to spend an hour or two just sitting in a local coffee shop.  (As much as I love Starbucks, it does not count as local.)  Take the time to reflect on the people and culture who make the city wonderful and unique.  Besides, what could be more touristy than experiencing the culture first-hand?

What Does it Mean to “Fit In”?

What does it mean to fit in?  As I leisurely enjoy my last week in the city, I have noticed several things.  A) It is cold.  Because of the cold weather people cover up by wearing jeans, jackets and boots, almost everyday.  Sometimes they even throw on an extra sweater, hat or scarf.  B) People dress and look however they want to.  I was at a yoga class on Saturday, when I noticed a very unique looking woman.  She was probably in her mid-thirties, slightly over-weight, and had the strangest haircut I have ever seen.  Most of her head was shaved, leaving one small lock of hair on the crown of her head.  Which of course, was dyed dark purple, and gelled into a curl.  C) This is quite normal for San Francisco.

Growing up, drugs were cool.  All the “cool kids” smoked pot before class, during lunch, and after school.  On the weekends, they got into the harder drugs, like alcohol, ecstasy or cocaine.  While the other half were the “good kids” who did not do anything illegal, and rarely went to parties, if at all.  I fit in, somewhere in the middle.  I was well known, I had a lot of friends, and I went to parties.  But I was not into the whole drug scene.  Looking through my high school yearbook, I realized I knew every single one of my classmates on a personal level.  Not everyone liked me, but everyone knew me.  I was friends with a lot of the “popular kids,” but I was also friends with the smart, artsy, creative, “individuals” too.  I should mention I went to an art school.  We did not really have cliques.  People either liked you, or they didn’t.  I was fun, ditzy, and energetic.  I always felt that I was more liked than hated.

Then I got to college.  It was full of beautiful, blonde, rich girls and boys, who had never experimented with anything dangerous before in their lives.  In many ways, I did not fit in.  I had blonde hair, I joined a sorority, and I was social.  Still, the kinds of people I had been friends with in high school, were so different from these picture-perfect, money whores.  The only similar replacement models were nerds, egotistical film students, and outcasts.  It seemed better to switch products altogether, than to bother making friends with people I would never understand.  So I befriended the beautiful, daddy’s girls, and the handsome jocks.  Yet this was not the college experience I had hoped for.  Where were the frisbees, liberals, protests and intellectual coffee drinkers?  While I had always wanted to join a sorority, go to frat parties, and spend my afternoons tanning; this existence lacks any sort of inspirational stimulation, and I have found it increasingly unsatisfying.

However, I have made many close friends at school, and I have become far more aware of my personal presentation.  It sounds superficial, but it has merit.  The way you dress and look, expresses something about yourself.  Wearing an oversized sweatshirt, with baggy flare jeans, and skater-sneakers says: “I don’t care about how I look, or what people think of me.”  Wearing tight, dark jeans, a crisp, clean shirt, a matching sweater and sandals, says: “I care about making an impression, and I’ve taken the time to prove it.”  But these are just two basic examples.  Neither is cool, or un-cool.  So what really makes someone “fit in”?

In high school, it was okay to be weird, original, and artsy.  In college, you have to be blonde, preppy and polished.  On Jersey Shore, crazy, orangey-tan, brunettes are considered the most desirable.  On The Hills, the fashionable, “hipsters” run the town.  So what makes these different stereotypes popular some places, and completely un-cool in others?  Are these people merely born with a knack for picking up the socially acceptable style of their surroundings, or are they just good at making friends?

When I am away at school, I wear heals, spend time doing my hair, and often sport a cute mini-skirt or dress.  Here, I can be found in a cozy coffee shop, wearing leather boots, and a fitted t-shirt, with my hair in a side braid.   My bullshit meter goes way down, but I have found that people in San Francisco lack a sense of responsibility.  It feels like Never Never Land, no one wants to grow up here.  It can be refreshing, but at the same time, I want to move forward with my life.  Each time I come home, I find myself less and less attracted to this lifestyle.  I am an adult, and I care about the way I look.  We are a visual species, looks matter.  But I am also intelligent, artistic and talkative.  I like to be liked, and I like to have friends.

Does fitting in mean dressing and acting a certain way?  Or does it have to do with the ability to make friends easily?  I suppose it is a balance of both. Fitting in does not have to mean becoming someone you are not.  Perhaps it is simpler than that.  Perhaps we merely change to adapt in a new environment.  Things that were once important lose value, and new preferences come into play.  I suppose the question is: how badly do you want to fit in?  The more you want it, the more likely you are to accomplish it, no matter where you find yourself.  At the end of the day, it seems more important to have good friends, and to know who you are, than to be wearing the trendiest outfit or trying to impress people you will never understand.

“How You Party is How We Preparty Cuz You Ain’t From IV”

Located just a few blocks away from the UC Santa Barbara campus, Isla Vista houses roughly 20,000 crazy college students.  For those of you who do not know, Isla Vista upholds one of the wildest party scenes in the state.  It is a beautiful, California seaside, shit show.

Well known for its beaches, expensive real estate, and endless party scene, Isla Vista is perhaps most famous for it’s week-long Halloween celebration.  Nearly 100,000 people from all over the state show up in costume, hoping to experience a few days of the California hysteria.  The party starts whenever you arrive, and ends when everyone is finally too hung-over to continue.  I have participated in this ordeal for the past two years, making frequent weekend trips in-between.

This year, I decided to venture down there to celebrate the Fourth of July with my best friend Audrey, who goes to the UC.  It was a well-needed vacation, and I enjoyed every minute of it.  From the day-long barbeques, to the four-in-the-morning beach hikes, this weekend was one I will never forget.  Although I have been there nearly a dozen times, this was the most special.

All summer I have hoped to see my good friend Peter.  We began “dating?” after my sorority formal this past May, but decided to just keep talking over the summer.  While we are not exclusive, there is potential there, and I would like very much to continue seeing him when school begins again in August.  I had mentioned to him earlier in the week, that I would be going to Santa Barbara for the weekend.  The day I drove down, he surprised me by showing up as well!  It was perfect.

Sometimes when I become intimate with someone in any way, it can be slightly uncomfortable the first time I see them again after a long period of time.  However, there was not even a moment of awkwardness between us, everything seemed to fall into place perfectly.  We talked, we walked, we ate, we partied, and we kissed, as if we had never been apart.  Finally, with his arms around me, we watched the gorgeous sunset on a balcony overlooking the ocean.  It was an experience more wonderful than I can possibly hope to describe.

Perhaps there is more to this tiny, slum-like wonder of a town than just excitement and commotion.  Perhaps underneath it’s worn-down exterior, something truly enchanting and romantic exists.  Sparking new adventures for those brave enough to enter it’s abstruse facade.