Epic Roadtrip!

As a person who values science and it's explanatory mechanisms, I have alway rejected superstition as a way to understand the events of my life. Instead of relying on the concept of luck, I choose to blame all of my daily ocurrences on the laws of probability. However, a series of very fortunate events this past week have forced me to accept that I am, indeed, a very lucky guy. 

A friend of mine asked me a favor. He wanted me to fly to San Diego and drive his new SUV back to Vancouver, all expenses paid. Given that the Pacific Coast Highway has always been in the top tier of my "List of things to do before I die", I instantly said YES.. A day later, I realized that Coachella would be happening on the same weekend that I would have to fly to San Diego! 

To make this story short, I'm blogging from a bus that will take me from Vancouver to Seattle. I will then board a plane that will take me to California, to meet all of my good friends. I'll be rocking in the Palm Desert for three days, listening to some of my favorite bands. Then, I'll start an epic road trip by myself from San Diego to Vancouver, with stops in L.A., Santa Barbara, Santa Cruz, Frisco, Napa, Portland, and Seattle. 

The itinerary is obviously very flexible... so please, dear readers, send me some suggestions! 

p.s. hooray for buses with Wi-Fi. And yes, I do intend to visit Malibu, in honor of the Dude.

Get a job, sir!

And today I realized that now that school is done, I have to find a job. Which leads me to think about what I want to work in, which means I should ideally know what I want to do in life. But today that only leads to a blank screen...and to the fourth wave of my identity crisis!

Any suggestions?

Sayonara 2008

El fin de año siempre se aparece como la gran oportunidad para mirar atrás. Sirve como pista para la auto-reflexión. Esta vez lo siento como un gran reloj de arena que está por vaciar una de sus mitades, y espera ansiosamente que una mano lo venga a voltear.

Me parece más curioso aún que no es un sentimiento privado, sino más bien, es una actitud compartida. Las ganas de despedir el año recordado sus sucesos se vuelven un acto colectivo. Desde las interminables listas de lo mejor del año (discos, libros, fotografías), hasta los noticieros que recuerdan los sucesos más imporantes, pareciera que el ser humano divide el tiempo en pedazos porque necesita gozar de los finales. O será que en realidad, lo que anhelamos son los recomienzos?

Para mi este año trajo muchos y profundos cambios. Por ejemplo, finalmente terminé la carrera y con ello me quité de encima mi propia piedra del Pípila que me mantuvo pesado durante años. En ese sentido, este fin de año me siento más ligero que nunca... pero llegará enero y habrá que planear un recomienzo. En qué? Todavía no sé. Por lo pronto, confieso que yo sin duda necesitaba gozar de un final, y este año me trajo un auténtico final feliz.

Y ya que estamos en esto, le cedo la voz a un experto:

"It's funny. I can look back on a
life of achievement, on challenges met,
competitors bested, obstacles overcome.
I've accomplished more than most men,
and without the use of my legs.
What. . . What makes a man, Mr. Lebowski?"

Boris, or the dangers of blind trust

I don't remember who recommended the Boris concert to me, but somebody made a very successful prank when they convinced me to buy tickets for yesterday's concert in Vancouver. (I have to call Rodrigo to inquire if it was him...and maybe end our friendship) I have a bad habit of buying tickets first, asking questions later that has led me to suffer through horrendous performances by new bands. Yet, nothing compares to my Boris experience.

I sacrificed the last night of the Celebration of Light to go to the concert... yes, the night where China showed the Canadian and American teams why they are the fireworks rulers of the earth. But don't get me started on that....

After walking in front of Richard's on Richards and hearing the first fireworks explode (any view of them blocked by the Yaletown buildings), I shoved my way through a crowd of leather clad Boris fans and suddenly realized I was surrounded by a mass of headbanging hardcores that made me and my skinny jeans look ridiculous. En español, me sentí fresísima.

Minutes later, the Boris guys jumped on stage, turned on their amps, and began their metal guitar noises and their shouts. The crowd went crazy and I felt just like a character in Guitar Hero, with the rhythm guitarist trying hard to follow the drummer's extra fast pounding of his Tama with equally fast riffs. It felt like an aggressive talent show band, just delivering song after song of ear busting noise. I left after the 5th identical one... the horror, the horror.

------------- Update! (August 4)

Revising my blog, I just realized that I got this Boris thing all wrong!! I did NOT see Boris that day at Richard's on Richards... it was the opening band Torche!!! I arrived late that day, (the tickets said doors opened at 8 pm) and I assumed that the band that started to play at 10.30 pm was the main event! Faaaaaak.

Walter would call me a "fucking amateur" and I would have to just bow my head in agreement.

Forget Obama

Look, I've got certain information, certain things have come to light, and uh, has it ever occurred to you, man, that given the nature of all this new shit, that, uh, instead of running around blaming me, that this whole thing might just be, not, you know, not just such a simple, but uh--you know.

(You might be wondering what on earth I'm blathering about.)

And I'll tell you what I'm blathering about! I got information--new shit has come to light and--shit, man! The Dude and Walter are running for office!














Well sure, look at it! The Nam veteran and the bum, in the parlance of our times....what a pair! I mean, hasn't it ever occurred to you, dear readers?

(Much obliged, Diana)

Dude's script.