Maybe it's just that time of the year, but this house creeps me out. This neighborhood creeps me out. It's so cold in here. Maybe if the heater was on I'd be less wound up.

But for the second time, I've heard screams coming from the area behind our backyard. Loud screams...full of anguish. Not playful, short, high-pitched screams...blood curdeling. Tonight they sounded like a man. The windows are all closed so they were faint, but I heard them once and thought it was the TV in the other room. Heard them again and I knew it wasn't.

First time I heard them I looked towards the window and saw a huge spider on the floor. That's another thing. The spiders. Why so many spiders? I hate spiders. Killed that mofo. Maybe the scream was an omen for me to kill the ugly spider.

Anyways, it wasn't the first time we heard screams from that area back behind the house. The first time they sounded like a woman, and we all heard them. Tonight is was just me. But that time they were loud, and went on for a while, and we almost called the police. But didn't. ::shudder::

To make matters worse, behind our backyard is a city-owned pumping station/open space area. Behind that is this abandoned two story pink house. Looks like no one has lived in there for years. It's falling apart, the windows are broken. Anyone could break in there pretty easily I guess. I wonder why it's empty? It's right on Euclid Avenue...one of the busiest streets in the neighborhood, across from the park. Prime real estate. Why is it just sitting there like that. Ack.

Leo suggested the screams might be from in there....that maybe it's a crack house. For some reason that's a lot more comforting then my thoughts of restless spirits that could be roaming just outside our backyard.

It's nights like these that I miss the comfort of La Loma.

Now that I've got that stupid Astro midterm out of the way, I can happily look back at this past weekend and say it was lots of fun.

Friday, Halloween, started with a field trip to San Francisco for my SF Architecture class. The weather had suddenly shifted from record-breaking heat earlier in the week, to a blustery, cold, and rainy weather (woohoo!). It set just the right mood for a walking tour of the city's waterfront. We walked from the Ferry Building, down the Embacadero, and all the way up Telegraph Hill to Coit Tower. Quite the walk, but well worth it. After that I took BART to Caltrain and headed to Mountain View to finish up the preparation for the haunted house.

What would Halloween be without the Perry family Haunted House? I couldn't let a seven year tradition disappear, if even just for one year. While my dad, mom, brother, and his friends were at the SFHS Homecoming game.....myself (tour guide), Mikey (the king of buttnuggets), Sabrina (creepy girl in the wall), Kat (coffin/foot grabber), BJ (coffin/foot grabber), Erik (leaf-blower/guy that makes little girls cry), and Joella (candy giver outer) successfully scared about 150-200 people! It was great. To everyone who reads this and was there to help out; I thank you, dozens of kids thank you, Mountain View thanks you.

It's hard to describe Old Mountain View on Halloween night. I feel like it's what Halloween should be like. The neighborhood embraces the holiday. It's not just for kids, but for families and adults as well. People congregate at the haunted houses like my family's that pop up throughout town. Neighbors actually talk to each other, catch up...act neighborly. Kids roam the streets, treating the neighborhood like its a gigantic playground. It feels like a Norman-Rockwell painting come to life, except quite a bit more multi-cultural.

I decided to go back to Berkeley on Halloween night. Couldn't miss another of my house's own parties. Joella decided she wanted to see Berkeley and came up too. The party was a lot of fun.
The highlight came towards the end, when the remaining guests spent a few hours in the dark telling true ghost stories. And for the first time in a while, I wasn't the only one telling them, which made it more fun (and frightening) for me. We also looked at the 'evil' Ouiji board I took down from my grandparents' attic, too creeped out to risk playing it.

Next weekend, I turn 21. My family is taking me up to Reno to celebrate. The following weekend, my grandma and I will share a birthday party with the extended family. Then the next weekend it's the Big Game at Stanford. The following weekend will be Thanksgiving.

Which pretty much means from now until the end of the month I'll be in Mountain View every weekend doing something fun. Which sounds great...only until I remember that within the same span of time I need to finish THREE term papers. Gag. Wish me luck.

Tonight I felt like,

I am not as fun as a cornfield in Hollister.

Whice may be true.

But...I feel slighted, almost insulted.
Not so much because old plans were broken,
(I'm used to that)
But because I was left out of the new ones.
And I wonder if they ever planned on telling me.
Or if I would have been left hanging come next Friday.

Few actions can hurt me more than being left out.

So, yes. I went to LA this past weekend. I guess a good way to describe the trip is laid back and low key. Some good conversations, some good food, and a lot of hours spent in a car on the freeway or in LA traffic.

Highlight was Eric's mom's cooking, especially the homemade lumpia.

Almost-highlight was almost seeing Cal beat UCLA in overtime at the Rose Bowl. But that didn't happen, so it kinda ended up being a low-light, which sucks because it was the whole point of the trip, at least for me.

The weather didn't help either. Candice and I (even the SoCal guys at times) longed for the crisp cool October weather of the Bay Area. ("Where's the fog!") The middle of October and it's pushing 100 in LA.....It's just not right! I refused to pay $3.50 for a medium coke at the Rose Bowl, the result was I was thirsty for the rest of the day. No sunburn though. Woohoo.

Also, went to Hollywood on Friday night. Didn't see any movie stars. Almost saw a movie at the Chinese Theatre, but didn't. Someday.

~~~

On a completely different note, the CED almost screwed me again on Friday. Sending me back and forth like a retarded pinball between the City Planning and Architecture offices trying to figure out whether Astronomy counted for one of my graduation requirements the day before the drop deadline. The beaurocracy of the college is something else, a major pain in the ass, but luckily things ended up Ok this time around.

Also, I've done really well on all midterms (except Astro..pass/no pass..so..eh). If I manage to write good research papers, this semester could really pay off.

Also, I'm entering a Disney Imagineering design competition with Leo. It should be fun. Top-secret conceptual design phase right now, so I won't say more than that. Don't want you stealing our great ideas. Ya... you. You stealer you. But, it feels really good to be designing again. This semester, I've realized I can't spent my whole life just writing and researching. I need to have another outlet, I like drawing, making models, and the creativity involved in addressing design problems too much to drop it completely. So, urban design/architecture is now back in the picture some way or another.

That's all for now.

Back when things made sense...the last true Mtn. View v. Los Altos football game - 1981

I finally went to a Mountain View v. Los Altos football game tonight. As I always predicted, my parents stood in the end zone, extremely confused about which school to root for.

You'd think rooting for Mountain View would be a no-brainer for me and my family...welll...this is a bit confusing but let me try to explain...

Once upon a time (when my parents went to high school) there were three high schools in the Mtn. View-Los Altos Union High School District. They went to Mountain View, the district's oldest and most diverse high school (almost 50% minority students) located right in downtown. Then there was Los Altos High, home to mostly wealthy, White students from Los Altos. Finally, Awalt High, located in South Mountain View, with students from the more wealthy part of Mountain View and southern Los Altos.

In 1982, Mountain View High was closed as a cost cutting measure and a way to conform to state mandated racial integration of the district. Each school in a district needs to reflect the district-wide racial composition....this is a problem since Los Altos is a predominantly White and much of Mountain View is around 50% minorities, and we're lumped in the same district together.

Los Altos High and Awalt were integrated by splitting Mountain View's student body amongst the two schools. To help Mountain View cope with the loss of its school, Los Altos lost its old mascot, the Knight, and got Mountain View's colors and mascot, the Eagle. Awalt lost its name and became Mountain View High School, but kept its old colors and mascot, the Spartan. A line goes right down the middle of Mtn. View and Los Altos now, dividing the two cities in half so that each high school is about 50/50 from each city.

So, even though I live in the heart of MV, I would have went to Los Altos. Bleh.

For my parents and other relatives, this is all a very big deal. You have to remember that they came from an era when high school pride and pageantry was a much bigger deal then it is now. And...my dad was a football player and my Mom was in the school's drill team. The racial and class divisions between Mtn. View and Los Altos added fuel to the rivalry. Think of Mountain View as Cal, and Los Altos as Stanford, and you get the picture. They did NOT like Los Altos, and the feeling was mutual. The annual football game between the two schools,was thus, THE event of the year, and held at Foothill College at night.

So, for my parents and their fellow alumni, going to a MV v. LA game now is very confusing. The game is still at Foothill College at night, but everything else is all switched around. Do they root for their former arch-rival Los Altos, since it has their school's colors and mascot and represents our half of MV? Or do they root for their school's namesake, even though it has their other old rival's colors and mascot? Kinda hard to root for either school, since half of each student body is from Los Altos, and the rivarly between the two cities still kinda exists. They found some peace of mind by thinking how ticked off former LAHS Knights must be that Mtn. View kids have now invaded their alma mater.

All in all....the whole situation is absurd. Mountain View residents cheering for Los Altos High, Los Altos residents cheering for Mountain View High, alumni cheering for their old rival's mascots, and half of each crowd cheering against their own hometowns. So, unsure where to sit, we stood in the end zone and just watched the two crowds scream at each other from across the field. A Los Altos High School girl to her friend while walking by us: "I HATE Mountain View (referring to the high school)...but wait...what am I saying...I live there!"

While watching the game, we talked about how maybe the schools should be renamed...but decided that would just result in even more confusion for a new generation. Or, the district should be split by city boundaries so Mountain View students wouldn't need to be used to integrate Los Altos' high school, and each city could have a school of its own again. Fat chance that will ever happen.

But, I guess that in the end, everything worked out tonight. My parents' school's name, mascot, and colors did not loose.

...in other words...the game was a tie.

PPiplani: I agree.
Auto response from Nap98: Since most people in NorCal and the Bay Area did not support the recall, I say we split from SoCal and let them have their Governor Arnold all to themselves.

SarahElizabeth44: im with you nick
Auto response from Nap98: Since most people in NorCal and the Bay Area did not support the recall, I say we split from SoCal and let them have their Governor Arnold all to themselves.

Auto responce from Wahine50: "Nap98: Since most people in NorCal and the Bay Area did not support the recall, I say we split from SoCal and let them have their Governor Arnold all to themselves."

lbthekiller: hey hey...NORCAL is the one that sucks, not beloved socal
Auto response from Nap98: Since most people in NorCal and the Bay Area did not support the recall, I say we split from SoCal and let them have their Governor Arnold all to themselves.
lbthekiller: boo to you for that
lbthekiller: you think youre too good
lbthekiller: you are just blinded by the fact that NORCAL SUCKS

Looks like your out-voted Lesley.

"If it were up to the Bay Area, then Gray Davis would remain in the governor's mansion, early election returns showed.

The recall was losing by wide margins in eight of nine Bay Area counties. Local voters also favored Lt. Gov. Cruz Bustamante over Arnold Schwarzenegger as the best person to succeed Davis."

Bay Area doesn't follow the state trend / Recall of governor losing by wide margin as 8 of 9 counties vote to keep Davis
-San Francisco Chronicle


NorCal pride! Free NorCal from Conan the Barbarian.

Kimmybob1313: Californians have gone Mad

SarahElizabeth44: I hate arnold

Avengelyne01: save me

Wahine50: California has been terminated

Dotts123: i have never been so disgusted! eewww! I can never again feel proud to be a resident of california. Arnold???? REALLY PEOPLE???????? it is official then- you all are crazy!!! eewwww!

Nap98: movin to New Mexico

...Some away messages as word about the results of the recall sunk in.

Sadly folks, it looks like it'll be Governor Schwarzenegger signing our college diplomas.

But hey, Prop 54 didn't pass. Woohoo!

Also, who else hates that the news calls the election with only 4% of precincts reporting?!

Bleh.

Nap98: sarah, i hate to break it to you, but my architecture friends beat you to getting me drunk
SarahElizabeth44: NOOOO
Nap98: haha
SarahElizabeth44: damn it to hell
Nap98: yeah
SarahElizabeth44: well shit
Nap98: not very drunk though
Nap98: maybe your new goal is to get me smashed
SarahElizabeth44: ah ha!
SarahElizabeth44: i have a chance
Nap98: lol
SarahElizabeth44: that was always my goal

~

SarahElizabeth44: i cant understand wanting to stay in the same place all the time
Nap98: yeah i know
Nap98: even I get tired of mtn. view
Nap98: and thats sayin something
SarahElizabeth44: theres a million things i want to see and davis isnt cutting it
SarahElizabeth44: whoa
SarahElizabeth44: back up the train
Nap98: haha
SarahElizabeth44: i think theres a pig flying outside my window

...it's fun to catch up with old friends. And it's weird to think of Sarah as an old friend now. But hey, time flies by doesn't it?

On a similar note, Lauren P's birthday party was fun tonight. It was great to catch up with Hanah and meet her bf Andrew. Congrats to them on their one month, so glad they could both make it tonight.

...and to connect these two topics further, before I forget, Hanah if you're reading this, Sarah wanted me to tell you she says "hi and that she misses you."

Here's to rebuilding old bridges.

Go to Point Reyes with Lauren and Leo, or the Cal homecoming game? That was the decision of the day. And a tough one for me. But I made the right one, cause the trip to Pt. Reyes was awesome, and Cal ended up loosing.

While Leo and Lauren did a site analysis for their architecture project, I walked down 300 steps to the Point Reyes lighthouse. While goin down the really steep steps, I actually walked out of the fog that was rolling in and on to the edge huge cliff jutting out to the Pacific. There, you feel like your at the end of the world, must have been quite an expirience to live in that lighthouse when it was built in the 1870s. I talked to an older lady visiting from Norway as we made the long climb up to the top of the cliff. She was stunned that we had seals in the Pacific ocean. I like how people are so friendly out on the trails.

After that I convinced Leo and Lauren to go to the Tule Elk Reserve on the other side of the park because I read a whiteboard at the visitor center that said it was "rutting" season for the elk. (Which I guess is when the males fight each other with their antlers.) The prospect of elk locking horns was enough to get Leo and lauren to want to go. We took the 45 minute drive to get to that side of the park, and as soon as we entered the reserve we saw elk. No rutting, but that didn't matter, elk are cool.

At the reserve, we took a long run down to a large beach, there were like two other people there. It is one of the most stunning beaches I've ever been too. Huge rocky crags jutting out into the sea, a wide strech of sand, grayish blue water, surrounded by tall orange cliffs. Awesome. We climbed around the rocks for a while, relaxed, ran around, and just had a great time.

We left the beach after the sun had set, and by the time we got to the car it was dark and the fog had rolled in. As we were driving back to civilization, it was like we were on a safarri, we saw silouttes of lots of deer, owls flying along side the car, a rabbitt cross the street, and lots and lots of cows.

All in all, it was a great escape from Berkeley, I am so glad I went. Yeah.

I voted today!

...and I have the feeling I'm bound to be disappointed come next Wednesday.

grrr.

I'll summarize the amazing expirience of seeing Cal beat U$C as freakin awesome. Wow.

Celebrating my dad's birthday by eating Zachary's Pizza for dinner and Fenton's for lunch the next day....Once again, Wow. Yum.

Today is the first day of October. I've survived September as well as the first flurry of midterms. Now things will slow down a little, but the work will not stop. Three research projects, yeesh. We'll see how that goes.

Halloween's coming up and my family's haunted house tradition may end this year since Saint Francis' homecoming game is on Halloween night, meaning my brother and his friends won't be available to help out. Which means a Halloween in Berkeley?...ehhh. I do not take the death of a tradition lightly.

I have not been home in three weeks. Quite a strech for me. And it looks like I won't be home next weekend because it's Cal's homecoming, and the next weekend because I need to go to an Astronomy symposium for my Astro class, or the next weekend because we're planning on going to UCLA.

Wow. Huh.... That just isn't going to work. I'll get back to Mtn. View sooner. Or else my grandma will start calling and giving me guilt trips.

My brother likes Cal. A lot. Living in the city next to Stanford and going to private school chalk-full of young White republicans, it's not that popular of a place. He's constantly defending the school from people who hate it because someone like Michael Savage told them to.

After telling my brother that Cal only had 'waco' liberal professors and wretched politics...I gave in and decided to have a word with one of his friends.

Nap98: so your dissing my school?
Calhector: who is this?
Nap98: afraid you cant get in?
Nap98: or that you might get brainwashed?
Calhector: lol. no, im pretty sure im not gettin in
Calhector: brain wash does seem to fit berkely rather well
Calhector: good word choice
Nap98: yeah, being taught to think for yourself is sure being brain washed
Calhector: hardly
Nap98: cal is more liberal than stanford for sure, but its not extreme
Nap98: you gets lots of different viewpoints.
Calhector: yeah, cause some of the students are tuff enough to ignore the waco liberal faculty
Nap98: oh have you been to some lectures?
Calhector: no.
Nap98: so dont talk smack
Nap98: sure explains why Channel 2 uses my polysci prof as there political consultant
Calhector: Most of the protesters have never left california. doesnt stop them from complaing bout afganistan and iraq
Nap98: protesters and the faculty are different people
Nap98: and how do you know where theyre from?
Nap98: lots of the speakers ive heard walking by protests are international students
Nap98: i think theyve been outside of the state
Nap98: might have...a broader perspective youd think?
Nap98: you are only regurgitating what youve heard on the radio. think for yourself.
Nap98: no one cares what conclusions you come to, but dont write something or someone off until youve studied it yourself.
Previous message was not received by Calhector because of error: User Calhector is not available.

Hater.

My dad loves the ocean. He can just sit next to the shore and watch the waves crash in for hours. It seems to both calm and excite him at the same time. On every family trip to Monterey or Half Moon Bay, he parks the car next to the shoreline and goes out there and sits on a rocky bluff meditating on the waves. He'll try to get the rest of us out of the car, but my mom, brother, and I will usually say no, content with the view from our seats.

He has told me that it brings back old memories of being at the beach with his own dad; clamming and smelt fishing with extended family and other Portuguese-American people. It is also a timeless reminder of something larger than our problems and our lives, something that’s constant and ever changing at the same time. Looking out into the ocean, life seems to make a little more sense.

The sea calls to him…and with a lighter tug, it calls to me too. We both could not fathom living anywhere too far from the ocean. His grandparents were from small volcanic islands out in the Atlantic, the Azores and Madiera. Some left the Azores for Hawaii, and all eventually settled in California…but never did they go too far from the sea. They kept their heritage with them; they adapted it to new places and times, but never forgot where they came from. American Azoreans, I’ve heard, have very sad music that’s filled with a longing for the place they once called home.

My dad and I talked about this long before I read the passage from La Maravilla that is typed in the previous entry, that so accurately described the way we felt. That’s why to both of us being categorized as “White” feels awkward and untrue. “White” feels empty. It means nothing. It was created as term to distance one class from the other on the basis of skin tone. Portuguese means something; it’s a culture and heritage that is real. Mexican means something; it’s an ancient word that was here before the Spaniards ever were.

~~~~

I am a Perry and a Perriera. I am also a Sias. I have the blood of the Morenos,’ the Lardizabals,’ and Goies’ running through me. I am a mix of a mixture. You could say I’m half & half but when you dissect those halves you find more underneath. I look at the photos of my very dark “Mexican” grandpa’s grandparents and I see a white man with a red moustache and a brown woman with the physical features of one who has always lived here. My skin color and facial features are the product of Portuguese and Flemish blood from the Azores, light-skinned Spaniards, dark skinned Apache, and some other unknown indios, maybe Aztecs, from Mexico. Who knows what else? I am all those things and none of them at the same time.

What I know is that I am from here, a native son of California. But part of me came here from halfway across the world. Another part only recently came from the copper mines of New Mexico. And although it’s likely neither part wanted to leave the place they came from, I cannot look down upon those who are here from somewhere else…if they are here for the right reasons.

But nevertheless, some percentage of me has been here in the Americas for thousands of years. Maybe it is that part of me that grounds me… that makes me care so much for the place I was born. No matter where life takes me, although I doubt I'll ever let it take me too far, my heart will always be here.

~~~

On a trip to San Francisco earlier this summer...I found myself pulling a "dad." I forced my cousins and brother to park at the shore of the Golden Gate in the Presidio so I could take some pictures from the wharf. I didn't actually take any photos. I just went out to the shoreline and then on to the fishing pier, taking in the wind, the waves, and the fog rolling in from under that great bridge while my cousins and brother waited patiently near the car.

~~~
See them depart
the young and the old
in search of fortune
in other parts
in other breezes
among other peoples
the young and the old

See them depart
with moistened eyes
and saddened heart
pack on the back
hope in the hilt
and golden dreams
see them depart
with moistened eyes

They'll return some day
rich or not
telling stories
of far off lands
where sweat
was made bread
They'll return some day
Or not

(An Azorean Song by Manuel Freire)

(Translation by Adiaspora.com)


(a very long post, for the end of the first year of this blog)

“Abuelo,” the boy interrupted, “is it true I am an American? Vernetta says I’m a Mexican but also an American.”

“Yes, you are American, but not in the gringo sense.”

“How do you become Mexican or American?”

This opened the old man’s eyes and the chair froze suddenly in midrock.

“You are Spanish and Yaqui, you are a mestizo from Aztlan, this land, right here where the Nahua people began.” He stamped his foot into the packed earth.

“This is what a Mexican is. But you were born here in America, tambien, and that’s what a Chicano is. You don’t become nothing. It’s only the gringos that become! They are Xipe,” he said, referring to the ancient god of new growth beneath the old, the god the Aztecs distorted into the God of the Flayed Skin. It was Manueal’s word for those people on earth who do not know where they belong.

“They become other religions like choosing a hat and become other names that have no connection to places they live. They become the things they own or the cars they drive. They say that they are one-third this and one-quarter that and their ancestors came from such and such, but they don’t know nothing about them. They have no stories. They have no tribe. Their camp fire is a goddamn television. You” – he pointed at the boy now – “you know where your blood has been for the last ten thousand years, mijo. There are words and songs, palabras y canciones, that tell you and explain to you.

“You do not become American, no, no. Shit, no. American becomes you, mijo.”

He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply through his nose, then pointed over his shoulder.

“Do you smell that, mijo? The tortillas and the frijoles and the chorizo? No matter where you go, to places I know I will never see, when you walk past a doorway or a window and one of those smells hits you, you will come back here to this place and this time. Always. And that is just smell. There are things far deeper than smell.”

“Are you American, Abuelo?”

“No. I am not American. I am not Mexican. In fact, I think I am no longer Yaqui. Shit, I can’t tell you nothin’ for real. I’m nowhere now.”

He leaned back, the anger in his leather face subsiding, and he exhaled slowly, a small hitch near the end of it caused by an old drawn-out affair with Chesterfield nonfilters. Like a ghost, his pain had come into the room. Josephina by the stove felt it and stopped her moving. She stood silently looking for an insect or a snake, on her face a mixture of distress and resignation.

“You see, boy, these people up here around us are so mixed up now that no one belongs, even though this is their country, our country. Do you see?”

“Leave him alone, Manuel,” Josephina said in a hissing voice.

“You can be in the wrong place,” he continued in spite of her warning.

“Your whole life, all of it, you can be in the wrong place and not know it because you’ve lost the power to know where is right. It’s a hard thing to say. I can’t explain.”

He sat back again, composing himself and considering, then nodding to himself. He leaned forward and spoke thoughtfully.

“Someone is in a bus that sways a little on its way up and down the street, and that person is pleased and gets comfort by the swaying.” He moved his dark hand slowly back forth. “It is so comforting that this person takes the bus even when he has nowhere to go. He just rides and rides. Sometimes he stands up and lets the bus roll underneath him.

“Entiendes, hijo? That person, if he had the power, would know that his ancestors were sailors, marineros, and that the sea is calling to him. The sea is trying its best. It’s not just ruts in the road or a bad shock absorber, the sea is calling. The sway of the boat is a small thread of blood, la sangre, that comes up and ties him even when the flesh has fallen away from his dead fathers.

“It’s una brujula en la sangre, a compass in the blood, and it’s a dim command in the blood. And in decades and generations the power to hear it is bargained away in small decisions and small concessions. So he leaves the bus on the street corner and sits at a desk and suffers from something he will never understand. The curanderos will tell him he is depressed or needs a special ceremony or a vacation or something like that, but that’s not it.

“He’ll drink from bottles and sometimes throw things and maybe hit his wife. But at night his spirit throws out a net, and in the morning it’s pulled back torn. And at night the sound of the highway makes him stay awake. It is not the loud rush of the highway.” He pointed the index fingers of both hands at the boy for emphasis. “It’s not the cars or the trucks…it’s the waves, the sound of the sea and the simple people on it. He has forsaken himself by forsaking the sea.”




From: La Maravilla, by Alfredo Vea, Jr.
(I wish I could write like this)

Tonight summer ended with a bang. After years of waiting, I tasted my first Parisian burger.

The Parisian burger is famous in Mountain View gastronomical lore. Once upon a time a burger joint named Linda's served up these burgers with a secret sauce that generations of my family and other Mountain View families greatly enjoyed.

Linda's closed in 85, but you'll still find true-blue (and gray) Mountain Viewers who have spent the past two decades perfecting their own version of the Parisian. One of those people, lucky me, is my uncle.

Word that the Parisian burger was being served at my Uncle Fred and Auntie Rosemary's Labor Day BBQ was enough to bring almost my entire extended family together within a days notice....quite a feat. (As well as some of my uncle and aunts friends from high school who also fondly remembered Linda's.)

The burgers were indeed quite good, as were the fried tater-tots (also a Linda's staple), chili beans, fresh cookies from my Auntie Becky, and watermelon. The company was even better. I'd say there were about 40 or so people there, with at least half being my family. We chilled until sunset, my cousins and I caught up on each others lives, the older generation talked about days gone by. The burgers brought out old memories and stories from those who were alive to eat the originals. Everyone by the end of the night was full and happy. And that was a great way to end a good weekend.

Hello September.

I don't care very much for this month. It's not a bad month...but there just isn't much to it except school starting. And who likes that?I think we should get rid of September and add 10 days to October, November, and December. With all those holidays we could use the extra time and gaps between them.

The last week of summer and the first week of school have come and gone since I last wrote. Lot's a good memories and little trips filled those last days of vacation. A visit from my cousin's Mikey and Vanessa resulted in a random trip to San Francisco. We made Chris drive....only a week after getting his liscense (and a few days after knocking down a part of the neighbor's fence while backing up) He went up and down those hills, including Lombard Street, pretty well. Went to the city again to visit the Asian Art Museum with some of my studio friends. Lot's and lot's of Budhas. And...spent one last evening with my high school friends before going back to Berkeley.

The first week of school has been pretty good. ...except that I signed up for 23 units. Dropping Econ...so down to 19. But that's still a heavy load. I'd like to drop more, but the problem is all my classes seem really interesting and am worried that with the state budget, they might not be offered again. Still gotta figure that out.

Went home after the football game on Saturday (go Bears!). Ended up going to Great America (for free!) with Lesley, Erik, and Dan yesterday. Had a fun time. Tonight there will be a family barbeque over in Roquero-ville (The three-house property where about 11 members of the Roquero branch of my family live) One last hurrah before summer really ends and I start hitting the books.

Summer is quickly coming to a close, and just when things are starting to get good. For almost every day of the past week, I've spent the evening at Martin's house hangin out with various combinations of my high school friends. While Martin's knee surgery has kept us from going anywhere, we've had a great time just hangin out....like 'old' times. It's felt really good to be able to spend my evenings with such good company, making new memories instead of thinking about old ones.

I'm really glad summer is ending this way. If it had ended two weeks ago, it would have probably left me bitter and disappointed. But I feel like the cup of summer funness has quickly filled up the past week or so. I'm really happy and relieved that the ties to my oldest friends have been strengthened before another college year of being away from each other.

Today was also my last day working at the Stanford Theatre, as the pic above signifies. It seems like only yesterday that I was being trained to work there. What a big change for me this job has been. I did things I NEVER wanted or thought I would do, like cashier...but I did them anyway and overcame my fears. The job had its down sides, but they were FAR outweighed by the upsides. (I know my family certainly enjoyed the free passes & food) It was a good summer job and I met some nice people through the process.

Sadly, except for my arch buddy Phyllis, none of my friends made it to the theatre. But because I'm so nice, here's a picture I took tonight to give you an idea on what you missed (for free!) But hey, you might have another opportunity come next summer of maybe winter break...or I'll take anyone that wants to go (hint hint).

This is the theatre auditorium from the top of the second floor balcony:


This is the lobby from the balcony lounge, the snack counter I worked at is on the left


...and this is the auditorium from the stage!


....I'll miss workin in such a cool old place. But anyways....here's to the last week of summer!

A good mini-vacation to San Francisco over the past two days. Visited familiar and new places with both friends and family on two beautiful (fogless!) summer days in the city. And what a city it is. At times, it feels worlds away from the rest of the Bay Area.

There's just so much to do and see there...and a lot of it is free. First stop was Mission Dolores/San Francisco. Right there in the appropriately named Mission District. I've been to many missions with my family, San Juan Buatista, San Diego, Santa Barbara, San Juan Capistrano, San Luis Obispo, San Carlos/Carmel, Santa Clara, San Jose, San Miguel....and so on....but we have never gone to Mission Dolores. It's really neat, apparently the oldest intact mission c. 1791, (the older one's have been rebuilt) with a beautiful old cemetery next door.

After the mission we decided to drive through the Haight-Ashbury, which was bustling with neo-yuppie-hippies and tourists. Cooler than I thought it would be. Then we headed to Golden Gate Park, and wandered into a 1:00 concert by the Golden Gate Park Band in the parks' big promenade. We just relaxed for about an hour in the sun, eating popcorn, and listening to some good live music. Then we strolled over to the Botanical Gardens, which were a pretty fantastic site to see. Hard to believe we were in the middle of the city.

Then I met up with my high school friends for lunch at the Rain Forest Cafe, and spent the early evening in Fisherman's Wharf, Pier 39, and Ghiradelli Square with them. Family met up with me right after, and before we went back to our hotel, we stopped at Crissy Field where I took some twilight shots of the Golden Gate. That night we played a mean game of Scrabble....I won. Ha.

After a good brunch at the hotel, I explored the Financial District by foot with my dad. Walked to the c. 1909 Palace Hotel and saw it's pretty amazing interior courtyard atrium. Then we headed down Market to the newly restored and reopened Ferry Building at the Bay. I gotta say, it's now one of my favorite buildings in the Bay Area. Before the Bay Bridge and Golden Gate, it was our Grand Central Station, and it looks like its well on its way to once again being a must-see for visitors and locals alike.

Before leaving the city, we took a drive up to Twin Peaks to take in the fog-free view of the entire city. We then headed down the Peninsula and spent the rest of the day at the San Mateo County Fair. A nice throwback after witnessing the Santa Clara County Fair earlier this month, which has been reduced to a shell of its former hokey-yet-loveable-in a homey & nostalgic way-self. Sheep, pigs, cows, petting zoos, (and the smell that goes along with all those things).....weird gizmos to buy, bad food that tastes great, crazy collections of locals, displays of local goods, ranging from pies, to photos, to bonsai plants, and a performance by a hypnotist and an actress/singer from the Disney Channel.

Lot's of stuff for such a little trip huh? Felt like a week instead of two days. That's what summer's about.

Okay, so make it 10 days spent with my high school friends this summer. I would not allow myself to be stuck at home on one of my few friday nights off from the theatre. So I called Martin and ended up going to his house to see his new 2-month old puppie from the pound. Super cute lil dog she is. And Martin invited some of our other friends over. We were there till 12:30, just chillin, listening to music, watching TV, talking about stuff, and playing with the puppy.

So, my wish from last night's blog entry was filled! At least for tonight. I want to squeeze as much quality hang-out- time as I can out of what's left of the summer. Tomorrow I'll have another chance; I'll be in SF with my fam for the day, and hopefully with my friends at night. So, this weekend is shaping up to be pretty good.

Hi there. How are you? I'm okay. Doodeedoo. No I'm not drunk. I don't do that....not yet at least. I'm just in a funny post-work-wind-down mood.

So I had plans made with a friend and then canceled tonight. That's okay though, it was for a good reason. And...I think I'm getting used to it. I've had plans with friends canceled this summer as much the number of times I've hung out with friends. Well maybe not...but close, since I've only spent time with my high school friends 9 days out of the whole summer.

Why? Mostly my job I think. I work during prime hang-out-time. But also because my high school friends seem to be not doing much, and if they are doing something, they're too tired to still hang out by the time I get off work. Once upon a time, we'd hang out into the early hours of the morning...1am...2am...even 3am. I thought I'd be doing more of that as I entered my college years, not less. I guess I should just get used to it and stop complaining. But it's hard to give up on something that I miss so much.

But anyways, my co-workers invited me to dinner after work, which was cool. It felt good to be just hangin and talkin with people late on a warm summer night in a busy Downtown Palo Alto in a restaurant filled with lots of other people my age doing the same. Only wish I had more time to do that with my friends.