There’s No Way I Can Do This Many Things…and Not Be Pissed Off

Anger management time homies! The entree is a cynical with a heavy pinch of sarcasm and no sympathy for miles.

1. There are certain pledge bros that piss the fuck out of me.
   
   1. Finster – your fucking rhetoric is getting us nowhere. We need more actions to accomplish our shit. Also, you're doing a really good job of fulfilling the "frat boy" stereotype. Get a damn grip.
      
   2. Pretty Boy P - You fucking dick. Could you not say no? Did you have to take the chance? Do you think it's a fucking joke? Not with Dedick.
      
   3. Fake Mexican – you damn cockblock. That's all I can say to you.
      
   4. Mickey Mouse Smile – must you act like a freshman?
      
   5. Hiney – Stop being a stalker. Seriously, open your eyes and experience life and try to be Type B personality. May I suggest growing a pair or is that too much?
      
2. IFC – you guys are pretty damn inconsistent. I think you're leaning toward disgrace.
   
3. AKYSB – stop underestimating me and my capabilities. Al, you're damn condescending.
   
4. My grades are satisfying, but I'm not happy with them. Or am I just lying to myself?
   
5. I need to get on an internship search pronto.
   
6. Sara, I really want to write you a letter. In fact, I just want to sit on a train from Riverside to Union Station and spend the trip telling you all that you deserve to know.
   

And now what made me happy:

1. The restoration of balance. Balancing my extracurriculars with my friends, that feels good. That centers me. Honestly, these lunches and dinners, as expensive as they are, they are extremely helpful. I can't thank you guys enough.
   
2. I wrote in my journal a few weeks ago. It was a bunch of questions pertaining to what makes greatness. I found my answer on the Wall Street Journal with Malcolm Gladwell's (my new favorite author) Outliers. In his new book, he will essentially attempt to answer all my questions.
   
   1. Now as a side-note, here's what I'm wondering. If I'm asking the same questions as he is, does that make me as smart as him? Does that mean that I too can be on the same path as him? According to him, it's the strength of the serendipity that is involved. Which brings me back to the original question: what exactly makes greatness and how much power do we, as humans, have to manipulate the factors?
      
3. Vancouver – I'm so excited to finally take a break.
   

I have blogs on my phone. I need a way to get them from the Mobile Word to BlogSpot. Without that shit being expensive.

And I need to learn how to operate without sleep. I think I'm a sleep-a-holic. Seriously, I believe that I can sleep my problems away. That's really not good (but neither is going cold turkey…especially concerning sleep).

I've decided that right now, my sweet spot is for blondes. I am definitely digging blondes.

I have rediscovered my love for Indian music. Just the way it resonates to me, I feel like Indian music speaks truly to my soul rather to my senses.

Rebellion as Our Fuel

"What's your fantasy?"
"Like sexual?" she questioned back at him. Her defense was on the rise.
"No. I mean, in general. A fantasy, a dream: some aspiration that you have"

The chemical interaction had begun. It was a complete social setting, but the parallels to science are too obvious. It felt like a slow reaction was occurring. All the elements were mixing together. Reservation, spontaneity, insanity. They were all mixing with booze as the catalyst. You know trouble is lurking somewhere. This is the story of how it comes out.

About 7 donut holes, a sip of a wine cooler, and quite possibly a Fat Tire later she answers my question. "I want to see the sunrise at the beach! You want to go!?"

"I'm down". You can't expect any emotion from me when I'm tipsy.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. Let's go".
"Like this?" as she looked at her Halloween costume. She was either a Sarah Palin transitioning to a nun or a librarian feeling naughty.
"of course not. We're going to change". My costume was beyond ridiculous. Skinny jeans and Converse do not belong on the beach no matter who you are (and let's not mention the hair and make up)

And so it began.

Before we know it, we're on the 60 east passing Pyrite Street. That exit reminds me of fire. I feel like every time I pass it, I have to light something on fire.

"We're really crazy".
"yeah, I know. The way I see it, it's either now or never. No regrets"

The trip continued with a conversation between two normal friends with their world shrinking around and between them.

Almost by instinct, the car parks in the perfect spot. They sit and slowly fall asleep. Waiting is the name of the game.

And she wakes up saying "oh wow". The surfers look like ants. Did that ant just die? Oh wait, he's still alive.

Now the game is to not blink. Seriously.

We sit there talking about which shade of yellow and orange we love. Which color mesmerizes us the most?

It's the goldenrod yellow for her, the burnt orange for me. If you blink, you might miss the shade you love the most.

Uh oh. The clouds are still there. I hated the clouds. As I sat there waiting for that gorgeous flaming ball to come up, I imagined the clouds to be like a lid. How dare the clouds try to stop the sun from rising? I hoped for the all powerful orb to push the clouds out of the way, send them back where they came from and show off its full glory.

Music was needed so I start browsing through my playlist. "Banana Pancakes" sounds good. I'm scrolling and scrolling and I see "Here Comes the Sun". Perfect. I saw a snowflake smile. It was a smile that was never seen before and never to be seen again; pure and genuine and only to be seen for a split second.

But there was an interesting turn in events. The cursed clouds began to turn into a canvas of never-seen colors. The naked eye saw shades of purple and violet reflected in the clouds that I never thought the sun had in it. What started as a curse turned into a blessing.

The best part of the trip was not just watching the sun rise. It was the drive back. Everything felt so surreal. Did we really drive out to LA for a sunrise?

It was more than seeing the sun rise, it was escaping. It was getting away from everything. It was turning an everyday event into our prize. For a full 12 hours, she and I were on our own, relying on our wits. "Here Comes the Sun" will always sound sweeter to me, In-N-Out hasn't hit the spot like that in about 3 years, and I'm pretty sure she and I will never look at the sun the same way again.

People label insanity as a curse, just like those clouds: for today, without any regrets, that insanity was a blessing.