A day in the life of....

It's tough being...

2011-08-12T21:53:00.000-07:00

9:53 p.m.: I have been awake since eight o'clock yesterday morning. As a recent college graduate I find myself in a spinning world of sorts. Left in an economy run by the next "biggest loser" (and I don't mean of any weight) I have no career, money, food, or means to change it. When I am not pounding magic into the ground of Anaheim I am usually found here, living in my parents house on the brink of insanity attempting to find that direction we were pushed out of college's safe-house and in to.

I realized how depressing it was when I could not fall asleep for a 5 a.m wake up.

My small excuse for living quarters is a scene directly out of the hoarding closet of Sherlock Holmes. Clothes, clean and dirty, are placed in their respective places among a chest and some closet space. I have books on three masses of shelving that I wouldn't even dare to count, most of them open to recent readings. Others sit on lay away if I need a good pick-me-up. Those books I usually keep close to the whiskey.

I have become obsessed with the coming of Fall. I blame this obsession on the boredom and depravity of action my life has collected. It also takes my mind off of the constant strain of attempting to organize my thoughts into enough plotted paragraphs that any half-wit, tan model would even be interested in reading. Now that I mention that, better shoot for at least sorority girls, their vocabulary and ability to retain information stands a tidge higher.

Anyway, between thinking about fall fashion and dreading my awaited work day I missed sleep all together. Instead I found myself slapped together at 5:15 with a scruffed side braid and a wrinkled uniform as I tried to make sense of the bagel and tofu-cream coming together to form breakfast.

My job comes hard enough when I am well rested and fed, let alone sleep deprived, bitter and in no mood to answer room 5423's complaint of there not being scented soap to freshen up with.

So I sat, in my brown cubicle waiting for the glamorous to awaken and cause my blackberry to scream with their inept demands and idiotic questioning. My coworkers, as usual, filled the room with their oddities and gossip, things I stopped attempting to befriend months ago. I sat there for nine hours journaling the random babble throughout my day in hopes of one day turning it all into a comedy the rest of the world can laugh with me at.

Until that day it is but me alone to suffer.

How is it people find fame? they are born with it, get naked for it, sell themselves for it, and on that rare occasion are discovered for it. Well since I have some form of intellect and dignity in the world I shall wait for the latter of the four.

For now I shall read a book, maybe watch a show and contemplate life as I most always do until I fall asleep and escape for a time being.

It'snow 10:18 p.m.

Pour myself a drink.

Lay my head in a book.

And think.

Rejecting Propriety

2011-08-10T21:32:00.000-07:00

I had this imagination as a kid. Actually, many would say I still have it today, but a lot has changed in my elusive phenomena since the blissful days of youth. My imagination has become overrun with thoughts, no not thoughts, worries. I once to let my mind take me where it lead, never questioning or doubting anything I wrote or spoke. But as money became the parliament of my existence; bills, loans, even gas prices made work the main attraction of my spinning creative world. I pushed aside the stories and opinions that made my passions fun, I stopped writing.

About a month ago, a friend of mine made time out of his equally work-driven life to share a cup of coffee and toss around musings. As we conversed, the conversation itself began to spark a light in my self that had been dormant for so long. I realized as I indulged in my opinions and stories, that I felt no stress and for once contentment. He scolded me for neglecting my blog, for working too much, and for not being my smart-ass self. As simple and irrelevant as that sounds, the truth is my bitter work life had snuffed me out. I stopped being a smart, creative, ass; showing the harsh reality and mishaps of life to the faces of whomever I met.

I haven't felt like my light and adventurous self in months. As I approach a year of not doing anything for myself I am ashamed at where I have let my creativity go to; school/my work and the abuse it sucked from me. Battling with the future, I refuse to do it anymore. I am not going to live or write for the corporate scum of our country. Little by little I will fill the pages of that Fleetwood Mac covered journal he gave me, and I will dissect every charachter and plot line that has been racing in my head for years.

stop worrying where to start, whom will care, will I fail or will I ever get everything settled into the perfect paragraph? who would read my stories? why do I even try? I'll never be as great as the literary heroes, what story to tell first?

Just begin.

AA: Albatross' Antics

2011-05-29T23:01:00.000-07:00

I have a problem with anger.

I tend to observe the world around me and quickly become unamused with their pitiful antics and dramatic trifles. I developed this problem at a young age and have carried it like a disease for years. I don't think my close relationship with the sarcastic life lessons of Samuel Clemens aids either.

Opening scene, my first grade class, consisting of a small collection of fairy tail and Dr. Seuss books on a red shelf in the corner and roughly fifteen snot-nosed, raggedy children on stools with crayons. We were about to take a test on biology and some of the children misrepresented an albatross during class time. I being the little wealth of knowledge I had taught myself to become, was quick to offer my help and quickly give my friends the answer before the teacher, Ms. Agulair a lovely stout lady who always smelt of cinnamon with loose dark curls, called upon them. Instead of listening to me, a child obsessed with discovery channel and books who wanted to help my friends, I lost my lunch group and had to sit alone for the remainder of the year, reading books and talking to myself.

It seemed this moment would forever curse me. I never was able to stop learning and had a bad habit of thrusting in pockets of educated conversation in to deliberations among friends. I do admit, there are times when I come off as a 'smart-ass' to people who don't want to take the time to know me. Crash the gavel down and judge me, I'm human.

But was that really all that bad?

Apparently so.

For this lack of sympathy for the individuals of this world who choose to neglect their conscious mind/right thought and instead take up the passions of ridicule and infliction of pain upon others, has made me, for lack of a better phrase, over the bull-shit.

You may wonder how I got through dredging years of school? so do I.

However, I do have, in a way, learned to cope with this fault of mine. I work daily on trying diminish it with pleasant thoughts and CNN, but when it seems to be all but gone, it flares back up on me like a case of herpes.

So here I sit, with my angerpes and a voice that sounds faintly of yoda telling me to not go to the dark side.

May I ask why is it the dark side is so good? It is much easier to hate and cut people down with my light saber of words then search my feelings and repair the galaxy with the force of compliments and understanding.

The dark side: hate+frustration= bigger base and cooler weapons.

How will I ever defeat it?

There is no local Mount Doom where I can dump this ring of an error into and simply be; a free little person who gallivants among rolling hills smoking pipe weed and eating delicious meats.

Another thing I hate, meat.

Hate.

I've tossed the thought of moving to a distant land, maybe a change of scenery would do me good. But, I have done this all before and wind up back in the sand pit I started in. Of course there is the possibility it would look as if I was running from something. I don't run, and I am not wrong. There goes that option for now.

Back to reality.

The color black, although slimming, is not one of my favorite colors so therefore there is no way I could really be part of the dark side. I like to make a statement with clothing and frankly, Sidious would have no apprentice with coral TOMS and flowered shorts serving him.

It looks like I'll have to suck air and deal with the ignorant fools of the world.

Write a book.

Become famous.

Poof.

There it is, a solution.

On to the issue of organizing characters and a plot line.

Becoming famous; staying average.

2011-03-23T18:33:00.000-07:00

The world is a stage.

How many times have we heard that and just allowed it to pass by? Just another repeated saying, added to the countless familiar lines that collect like dust in our cerebral cortex. But, has any one actually sat down to think about that phrase?

It is a cold and wet Wednesday evening in Covina California. I sit in a wobbly wooden chair across from my brother, who is buried in an engineering manual, in an over cramped Starbucks. Nestled next to the pick up window at the bar, constant yelling and conversation has about given me a migraine. Not to mention, I just had the absolute "privilege" of applying for jobs online; my attempt at getting ahead of the college graduate game. My wallet is near empty, the bills relentlessly continue to poor into my life, my return to work status hangs in limbo and schoolwork exceeds the hours available in the day. Sounds about right for senior year.

Now, if I was famous this all would be just part of some social comedy I am portraying a character in. If only that were true.

I'd say, for the average human being, my life is pretty UN-average. My family ceases to surprise me with their antics and harsh relation to psychotic television series. Compared to most, I would say everyday relates back to some movie or show I have seen, but it is reality. Reality that I endure everyday and am not being paid for. It is as if "please vent to me" is illuminated on my forehead and because of this "gift" many strangers incorporate my opinion into their 'oh so special' lives. These and many more pride reverting incidents happen to me regularly, those who know my life can account for this. If the world is a stage and I am an actor within it where is my glory?

Now, I have considered blogging about my encounters, going to casting calls or contacting some form of media for screen writing opportunities. But if I am having a hard time getting media to get back to me for a job, I don't think a new t.v. show in which I am the star would be accepted too easily.

Therefore hello world, I am playing in your net of uncertainty and constant hilarity. I accept your adventures whether joyous or painstaking; let the games begin.

I put on one of my various roles and walk out the door of "opportunity."

The things I accomplish in Starbucks.

Muling over Secrets

2010-11-18T09:26:00.000-08:00

It is quiet for now. The classes upstairs have not yet been dismissed from their morning lectures and early arrived athletes scurry in for a quick meal before the rush.

The mediocre cup of coffee tastes burnt with neglect. There is no warmth from the condensed and formed paper that can take the chill out of this room. Perhaps it is the four set of doors in the small space, opening and closing every five minutes that makes her shiver. But, deeper she fears it is more than a wind chill.

She sits alone.

Images of tiny feet flash through her mind. Clenching her stomach, unsettling nerves bring back the nauseous feelings. He would not understand if he knew the pain. Brushing it aside and blaming it on stress and over thinking the final year of college.

Someone yells.

A stampede of footsteps echo throughout the cramped cafe. Her mind struggles, jumping from loud, overbearing conversations centered around nonsense, and the small worry eating away at her soul.

Why is it the older some people get, the more they resort to immaturity and dramatic affairs of youth?

Deep breathes, don't stop.

A psychology book to ease away from the focused thought of "her problem." But, what if? Would he leave her without even looking back? Then again, secrets always saved the relationships of her past.

But to lie?

The clinic should be open this afternoon. A crashing tray of eggs snaps her back. He'll never have to know. "I am the only one who can take care of me," she whispers. Throwing the book and other belongings into her bag she rushes to class.

The cafe is teaming with hungry college students. The door fly's open and she is gone.

reversing time

2010-11-03T21:36:00.000-07:00

The walkway was long and overgrown with the ferns and new sprouts of the past summer. Chestnuts were starting to pop up on the cluster of trees by the broken fence which divides the corn field from papas yard. Papa would give us 10 cents a nut if we could pick them up, in the end he always paid more than he should. I can remember the smell of burning wood in the evening as my father disposed of the recent trimmings from the oaks. The sky would fade from its vibrant day blue into hues of purple and gold. An autumn wind blew a slight chill through the air as I walked up the steep steps of the backdoor, and rushing into the kitchen, felt my skin prickle with the combination of night air and heat from the oven. The smells were always enticing; of pies, polish dishes, and anything nana could get her hands onto. And there she was, stirring the potatoes as they boiled for supper, gliding between the oven and table where she whistled and prepared the evenings meal. The house always smelt faintly of pie, I never could put my finger on it. Everyone would always cheerfully congregate around the table to tell stories and feast, there never seemed to be a care in the world.

What happened in the elven years between blissfulness and chaotic depression? How did the world start to feel as if were slipping through clenched fists and the social norm became the depravity of existence? Independence replaced imagination and life began to attack an unarmed child who lacked the basic training of worldly politics. To once again run without worrying if it is the right way, or care not of the thoughts and feelings of others. That would be life. Instead, it feels as if each day takes a bit of the child who once ruled the kingdom of my mind and replaces it with a bitter king, too old and tired to rekindle the past. Breathing without feeling like an anvil is on my chest. The adventurer in me wants to say the answer is just around the bend, to hold it out for a few more moments and there, the promise land will be nestled in the future.

Just around the bend. To be young again. To close my eyes and just be.

I was walking back from the meadow at the bottom of the grassy lane. Back to the pink and white house on township line. Leaves in my hair and a slingshot in hand. It is about supper time. I open the back door and I'm home.

Settling in the dark

2010-06-13T18:41:00.000-07:00

It was a long and drawn out day at work. When I arrived home it was bustling with my loud family and their usual antics. My youngest brother was getting ready for his afternoon run, stretching by the living room couch. Dad was listening to some motivational speaker, one of about three dozen that he rotates through, on his ancient laptop in the kitchen. My mother and other brother sat on the couches in the family room. They were watching the Laker game in spite while arguing and yelling randomly at the figures on the enlarged screen. I proceeded to walk upstairs and watch something on t.v. that didn't involve any yelling or confrontation. I had been surrounded by such an environment for a nine hour shift this morning and would rather not take the beating of harsh voices at the moment. Being worn and just about ready to fall over from the demanding spring semester of school and work, my emotions lay spread thin. I had just returned from counseling an old friend, a thing I should retract from my services, but nonetheless, I see a need and attempt to meet. My whole week actually had been sprinkled with the aiding of certain, let's call them needy for lack of a better word, friends. No, needy sounds like I dislike them, I love them, just not their lack to rationally think through their problems before throwing them up on the first available ear that will listen. Usually, that's me. And I digress. But this blog isn't about my emotional and tormented friend. It is about a moment I came to many hours later. In my room I sat, regurgitating the information processed for today, and my interwoven mind began to bring up the moments throughout the week, the past, the pushed away and hidden past. The kind one tries to dispose of deep within the cerebral but for some reason, can never fully get rid of. One of my favorite artists came on my ihome, the song was one I had heard countless times, a favorite actually. But, a line in it began to make me think. "And here i rest where disappointment and regret collide....Lying awake at night." My mind began to spin around this phrase, the words disappointment and regret standing out like bright lights on a darkened highway. I began to realize that it was I who sat, in the night, allowing these thoughts to keep my mind from moving on in the 24-hours of the day. I was so focused on the present issues in my family, my friends, and even my own life, I wasn't enjoying anything to the fullest anymore. It is like my brain is a running machine without an off switch, nothing to just stop the wheels from creating product of thought and reasoning. It keeps me in a state of unease more than I'd like to admit. But, how can I stop allowing the lives of others to influence my own? Trust me, this isn't the first time the light bulb has been turned on. Do you sacrifice a part of yourself to aid another? Or do you be selfish and remain a vessel which only sifts through the practices, frustrations, and intelligence of your own? I will probably never stop helping people. Only time will tell if this gift of aid will ruin my happy ending as I attempt to construct anothers.

Grey Zone

2010-03-02T00:32:00.000-08:00

The small coffee shop just off campus was bustling with the afternoons exchange of students eager to buy an adequately made and overpriced latte. I was talking with a friend about his life before college, before this year, what had he done and did he have any regrets? We had been in a heated discussion for hours now, back and forth over the mistakes made and slowly over time forgot. He said one thing that stuck with me, it was in response to the people he had interacted with over the years, many of which the mistakes were made. The statement was more or less along the lines of, "I can't say that I still feel terrible about it all, it was a grey zone in my life, things were hazy and I made mistakes but, now I'm out of it and in the light." My astonishment lies within the question raised after his statement; how do we as individuals find our light? Almost anyone has had a time where they find themselves in this "grey zone" and frequently exit with regrets and instances wished to forget. It is as if life's winding road travels through deep canyons laden with fog and if you miss a turn, you will forever be lost in its thick mess. I have found myself drifting back into memories I wish I could use a neuralizer to rid of as Will Smith so easily does. It is knowing this pain will transform into enlightenment that keeps me from allowing the darkness to engulf my world. Knowledge obtained over time does not come easily nor can it be Googled. The journey to new thought will bring wear, but the outcome is worth every deep bruise and tear-stained face.

Thought bubble

2010-02-20T23:20:00.000-08:00

I drove through a blizzard of styrofoam a week back. The freeway danced with the small white balls escaping from a nearby semi and cars yielded to their thick looming cloud. The sun was setting just beyond the hills of Covina as I made my long drive back home from work, the same I make 4-5 times a week. The 57 freeway, as usual, began to bunch up as the menacing drivers from the 10 merged into us with less than 3/4 of a mile to do so. I drove appreciating the sights here and there, trying to refrain from giving into my body's cruise control, which happens when you make the same drive every week. I prepared for school, yes work in the morning and school the rest of the afternoon and evening, congratulations to me being a full time college student with bills. My job is, not the best per say, but allows me to have over 18 units a semester while maintaining enough hours to pay financial aid. But, it was yesterday that I was able to really take a look into my future, not just daydreaming on the freeway, actually connect all I've been thinking with reality. For an advanced news reporting class we are put in "real life" news situations and expected to write a "reporter worthy" story. This weeks assignment was a press conference, sounds boring right? Well I though so too, until I actually got down there and rolled up my sleeves to do some reporting. Union Station was the site and transportation issues was the topic. A rally of unhappy transit and anti-pollution advocates more than kept my attention for two hours. From interviewing them to seeing their decorative signs I had more than enjoyed getting to know the "little people" of the situation. I then proceeded up the stairs of the LA Metro Headquarters and convinced one of the women at the desk to allow me to attend the invite only/closed press conference. Don't ask how, I have my ways. I took notes and left, speaking to a senator, several advocates, a few CEO's and with that my morning was complete. I could not believe the rush I had, not to mention the boost in confidence from the interviewees. But, that small fact is far from the point. The point is I actually enjoyed it, for so many individuals their career or job hardly excites them. While I still feed of the rush from Friday morning, others dread going to work, as I do now with my current job. It is knowing now that I am in the right field that gets me through the complaining customer, failed financial aid, worries of getting a job, etc. In one of my books for class the author talks about every writer needing to find their arrogance for through it they will achieve confidence and overall success in the writing field. Well, I found mine, and it feels refreshing and exciting, I'm just waiting to get out there in the world and begin. Let's just hope people don't start taking me as an arrogant B... it's confidence in disguise guys you should try and acquire some, it might be the deciding factor that lands you your dream job rather than just an outlet to pay bills.

Letting go

2010-01-12T17:49:00.000-08:00

From when we are born we are expected to be something, someone, a figure in this massive world. No one ever is quick to admit it, but the fact remains the same. We are held to a standard, a standard we are issued by our family, religion or even over time ourselves. We look for commentary in our daily duties, a simple pat on the back or point of the finger to lead us in the direction one seems fit. Instead of listening to our own desires and passions we now paint our picture of life to attract the ones we look to for approval. But, how wonderful and innovative would Da Vinci's work be if he had created it for someone else? Or how inspirational would Thoreau's words be if he had written it for the American people of his time, for their approval? We are not to create for another, we are to create for ourselves, to voice our deepest thoughts and opinions. We must take all of the social rules and conformity's we have come to obtain over our life time and toss them aside. We must find who WE are and not who someone else wants us to be. We have passions, a creative self within us that was put there to do, not to sit by and mold into whatever the mood of the moment is. Take off the chains you have wrapped around yourself over time and freely create what it is you most desire, what makes you tick, think, what makes you be you. For so long I struggled with pleasing others, basing every action and thought I would make on their reaction. I even still battle with this from time to time today but have made it my goal to rid of this leech completely. How many hours have I wasted worrying when I could have been creating and more importantly, living?! How many others have done just the same and have failed to realize it? Life does not stop for us, for our decisions on whether we will get positive feed back on our choice of major, career, husband/wife etc. Life presses on without even a look at these things and so should we. Go abroad and live off the little money you make doing what you love. Get the experience you want, we sit by and see these movies or read these books that talk of people who live their dream and wish we could do the same. Stop wishing, go be your own protagonist and make your story the way you want it to be. Because in the end, all that matters is that you lived, not who praised you while living.

Paper thin

2010-01-05T00:16:00.001-08:00

I sit here, early this Tuesday morning listening to my ihome and playing on my mac. Nothing about this seems odd or unfamiliar to me, and why should it? But, so many fail to have a life like this, a life where they can own these "gadgets" that have become as familiar as my own hand. To so many, a regular meal is something to look forward to, a roof over their head, a family who listens, or just someone who cares. But how can I, a college student in the suburbs of Southern California, come to give those people a taste of my life. I complain about financial aid not working my account out to register for spring classes and there are people dying as I pout. The worst part is that no matter how hard my brain works, how many wheels turn in my mind and sleepless nights I accumulate, life continues on without me helping one of those starving children. So what do we do? How can we get through this life and help those who need us. Do we join the Peace Corps? Send all our money to agencies who help those in need? Do they even help everyone? They cannot. It is impossible. Only a select few can benefit from your donation of thirty dollars a month. Then why do we do it? Why do we try to help the world when it seems like every step we take we are already eleven steps back and our advancement makes no dent in the travesties we set out to fix. It is an endless cycle that we continue to follow in hopes that we can somehow satisfy the call to a greater good. We cannot run a rut into the ground where we are tracking back and forth attempting to accomplish this. If we cannot aid directly than we must find another way. We need to find ourselves before we can aid others, create something within us, for us, and there you go, you have become more than just a walking jubilation of matter. In knowing this little more about life, about you, you have become open to the world, allowing people to become part of your life and you of theirs. This is how we can help someone, it isn't the money, the endless focus on attempt to change the future. We can become enlightened, allowing ourselves to just be, and in this we can be used in greater ways than our minds can fathom.

Trying to run back the clock

2009-07-21T12:45:00.001-07:00

As a writer we are told, "not everyone is going to like your work" or "be prepared to get complaints". So I waited, and waited and the only complaint I got was someone disagreeing with a column I wrote and to be honest it only got my blood boiling for a bit. But it has finally happened, over three months of being out of school I have gotten a worthy complaint. It was about an article I wrote in early March and this individual had just now laid their eyes on it and were not too happy with what was written. I was charged with "distorting a quote", something a Journalist seldom to never does and in seeing this I was a bit confused. I sat back in my chair and thought about this particular article and the possible mistake that could have aroused. It was not until I saw the particular quote this person was appalled at did I remember what was said. I distinctly remembered this quote because it shocked even me to hear this persons "title" being bashed by their own quote. Naturally I put it in my story because that is what journalists do, we exploit the truth. And the saying the truth hurts has not rang more clearly than it has today. People think they can say what they wish, do what they want and get away with it without another soul noticing. Well I noticed and I think I might have given someone a heart attack in doing so. If you do not want something to be misinterpreted by another or in my case become a "distorted quote" then I suggest reading from a teleprompter or for the less accommodated, a piece of loose leaf paper. Because no one person is perfect and human error sadly to my "elite" and completely flawless complaining individual does exists. No matter what is changed in writing or taken back with words, this individual was thrown off their high horse and can never turn back good o'l father time. This person has made a flaw and their flaw was finally caught.

Where did So. California go??

2009-05-17T13:13:00.000-07:00

Ever wake up in the morning and wonder where the mountains went? How do you feel when your out on the town or maybe on the run and you happen to look around you, down into the valley and you see a thick brown cloud? Well that cloud is not rain, fog, nope it is smog and I am not talking about that dragon from the Hobbit. I'm talking about the wonderful pollution that surrounds me daily. And the sad part is that it is not even all from CA. It is from China, India and many other coal burning countries.
Why is it every day there is a new coal plant being built in these countries? Why isn't any one stopping them? I mean if we know so much about global warming, and the future of our earth how come it is still continuing?
It saddens me that it is rare when I can see the beautiful mountain range, the deep valley and the outlines of my state. It used to be rare when I could not. I simply wish that we could go back to when the only thing we had to worry about was a sunburn. Not to worry about going outside too long because of bad air quality.

Ponzi Scheme....what next?

2009-05-17T12:58:00.000-07:00

Here it is again everyone! Corporate America is stealing from the rich and poor to give to who?....THEMSELVES! Billions of dollars...BILLIONS simply was just re-directed to a bank in London? HOW???
How does this always happen? the simple sliding under the rug, knowing the whose who to get what you want. Well I am sick of it. I think that this entire situation is not news, it is an addition to history! For as long as there has been money, there has been scams. And I am sick of people pretending to think this is a surprise! They say government officials had no idea that this was going on and that oh if he hadn't slipped we would have never caught him. I bet the government did know, how could they not? They know when someone on a phone conversation says something relating to terror and if you check out a book that has to do with Islam in any way there is a background search being done on you immediately. So how can they say they did not know?
It is utterly ridiculous and I just wish people would come out and say hey we knew he was doing it but we did not do anything about it because in some way it was benefiting us. The only reason the government turned on him was probably because something pointing the finger at them was about to be up rooted and they had to quickly shine every light possible on Madoff.
Well I am sorry Bernie Madoff, it really is a terrible thing to be you right now, you just had your candy stolen from you by the big bully on the play ground and they threw it in the dirt.

Obama in IN

2009-05-17T12:43:00.000-07:00

SOUTH BEND, Indiana (CNN) -- President Obama delved into the charged abortion debate in a controversial Notre Dame commencement address Sunday, urging civility and a search for common ground on one of the most divisive issues in American politics.Addressing a sharply divided audience at the storied Catholic university, Obama conceded that no matter how much Americans "may want to fudge it ... at some level the views of the two camps are irreconcilable."

"Each side will continue to make its case to the public with passion and conviction," he said. "But surely we can do so without reducing those with differing views to caricature."

The commencement ceremony was boycotted by a number of graduates dismayed by the university's decision both to tap Obama as its commencement speaker and to give him an honorary degree. The president is a supporter of abortion rights and federally-funded embryonic stem-cell research -- positions that are anathema to traditional Catholic teachings.

this excerpt was removed from CNN's website.

Many students were angry at Obama even being allowed to speak at the comencment ceremony in Notre Dame. It was said that many were arrested and numerous were booed and beaten. But why? Aren't they not allowed to express their 1st Amendement rights?

I can empathise with these catholic students who ae frustrated at President Obama being allowed to speak at their graduation. For me graduation is a day to remember all of the days you worked so hard; staying up late researching, writting paperes, going to school for days on end. And why would one want this day, a day of embracing accomplishments and being happy to be rained upon by a President they do not agree with? I think everyone should get off the backs of these students and allow them to feel angered, hurt, frustrated etc. Because it would be like you having to take your younger sibling out with you on your senior ditch day in highschool, or be forced to stay at home and watch your dog rather than go to Italy. Just try to see it at their level, get your nose out of the air. And maybe america and the President can stop looking down their nose at a situation and try to view it from the ground up.

Where is all the water going?

2009-05-12T15:21:00.001-07:00

As California begins to enter its third consecutive year of drought, the one question looming over the state is what will residents do to help?

Water is used to produce every household item and food in America.

Researchers have found that the standard trash barrel holds 32 gallons of water and a mid-sized passenger car has room for little more than 800 gallons of water.

Farmers use more than 70 percent of the water in the world and when it takes enough water to fill two mid-sized cars to produce a pound of chicken and a pound of beef how can we continue to use all of this water and be fine?

The answer is we cannot.

Water can replenish itself by rainfall, run-off and melting snow, but with the world population count at more than 6.7 billion, we are not going to be able to rely on Mother Nature to get the job done and provide water for everyone at the same time.

The only answer to this global predicament is to reduce the amount of water being wasted and to act quickly.

At least one large corporation has risen to the occasion and has begun doing its part in reducing its water footprint.

Starbucks has cleaned up its act to reduce the amount of water it wastes using dipper wells that constantly run. It plans to replace those dipper wells with eco-friendly wells this summer.

California authorities have set a goal to reduce the use of 80 gallons of water per person a day to 37 gallons.

A few ways you can begin to accomplish this is to reduce the use of water through simple steps at home.

An average of 30 gallons of water can be conserved if the water is turned off while washing dishes.

Plug up and fill the sink with water while shaving to reduce the use of running water.

Keep the sink off while lathering the soap on your hands or in your hair to save water.

Fix any leaky faucets, toilets or water pipes. Even the smallest drip can add up to loosing several gallons of water a day.

Water your plants and lawns at night, it will help keep them alive as well as avoid the wasting of water in evaporation.

Consider washing your face and brushing your teeth in the shower.

And begin shortening your time in the shower by one minute. Shorter showers means less water being used.

For more ideas about how to conserve water and how to be more eco-friendly, visit www.bewaterwise.com. The site also offers information about the second annual Spring Green Fair hosted by the Metropolitan Water District. The fair will be held from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. May 7 in Los Angeles. The event is free, but if you plan to attend a workshop, you are asked to register.

What is the point of a rainy day fund when we're in a drought?

2009-05-11T16:10:00.001-07:00

In this photo are hundreds of umbrellas in the quad of Cal State San Bernardino as protesters say no to the alleged prop 1A....

So the Terminator is trying to change our budget again to increase this so called rainy day fund. He is expecting Californians to take tax revenues and put it into this collective pot to store away until our poor state is in dire need of some rescuing. Sounds a little fishy to me.

Why are we as tax payers going to agree to increase our taxing to 12% and place it in this fund that is not going to be regulated? How do I know that my money isn't going towards a senators banquet? or the hooker in the hotel afterward? I mean come on, honestly, you expect me to believe that all this money is just going to magically sit all alone, untouched while we wait for an economic crisis? and if that doesn't come then the scraps will go toward the school system? right.....

I mean the concept in a way makes sense. Reckless California puts money away for desperate times. Kind of like hiding money under your mattress in case the banks fail but this money is way more dirty. Like hiding your money under Pamela Anderson's bed....You just don't want to touch that.

Yes as a student I think our schools should get money, but I am not against this prop because I feel the education system is suffering in all areas of the state. I know some schools that are getting AstroTurf fields and renovating the hallways. While some colleges build new "campus centers" to be used for students but instead throw the administration and higher faculty in there. Yeah my money is going to great use.

So to end this long note...Prop 1A is just another way for the dirty government to try and ruin our lives, why don't you give money to a charity or adopt a homeless child in another country, that would be a better use of your pot o' gold.

2009-05-11T16:02:00.001-07:00

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What happend to what we stood for?

2009-05-11T15:43:00.000-07:00

"Miss California USA co-directors Shannon Moakler and Keith Lewis will hold a news conference Monday to announce Carrie Prejean's fate.

Officials are reportedly in talks with the beauty queen's camp about losing her coveted tiara over possible contract violations as a result of public appearances supporting opponents of same-sex marriage.

Not to mention those revealing sexy underwear photos taken when she was a teen that she failed to divulge."

This is a clip from the Washington Post commenting on the recent tragedy with Miss CA.

Now, why does America, and the critics constantly set people up for failure that are in the lime light?

Now I am not saying that she shouldn't have answered the way she did, and put down same-sex couples but isn't this a bit ridiculous?

Yes she is representing CA and in doing so should have thought a little harder about how she was going to address politics but what ever happened to freedom of speech?

The Bill of Rights is constantly thrown down and forgotten when it comes to news and any other type of media communication. The one thing our founding fathers built this nation on is not even used in this day and age.

While I do not think Miss Prejean should have said the things she did, I do not think she should be ridiculed and harassed.

We allow talk show hosts such as Conan O'Brien and Bill O'Reilly to continuously bash politics and celebrities but we the people of the United States are not allowed to do so?

I wish that we would stop being bias and take a second to look around and realize whatever we are critiquing on we are most likely doing ourselves.

Dance it out

2009-04-20T17:44:00.001-07:00

Dancing has been proven to release stress from an individual. At the communications department at school I felt I needed to get away from Web Editing for awhile.

Culture confusion

2009-02-23T14:31:00.000-08:00

In my Anthropology class we have been learning a lot about cultures and how they celebrate events and overall just live. I have come to the conclusion that the United States of America is completely mixed up with everything except for maybe weddings. Why is it that we take so much time to plan a wedding, we put our very life into this one day where a man and woman are united, but don't want anything to do with death. Why is death such a sad moment filled with turmoil and despair? Death is the passing over into another place (if that is what you believe) no more pain or having to deal with the ridiculous world we live in. Almost every other culture within the world views death as something beautiful, something special. I talk to so many people who are afraid of living because they are going to die, they stop enjoying life. But we are not meant to live in fear, hiding behind the ever growing thought of possibly dying at that very moment. I wish that Americans would stop and see the beauty in everyday life as well as death itself. There is so much to appreciate in this huge and ever changing world! Just take a moment in the day to find something to smile about, the beauty of the sky, the spring flowers, the vast mountain range. Nature is the cure to fear, within the world we live are spectacular events and sights that can make a person completely forget about their worries. And if you don't have time to look outside and your one of the many popular "couch potatoes" then flip the channel to national geographic or the discovery channel. I'm telling you Plant Earth in HD....it will blow your mind.

What makes the news...

2009-02-04T17:18:00.000-08:00

Have you noticed that the news on television is not actually news. It is almost unfathomable the type of information that will make the evening edition news program these days. Sometimes I get lucky and actually learn about something useful, such as the country's plan to fix the economic depravity or about whats going on in the rest of the world. Last night I turned on my television and the first thing to pop up on the news was "MICHAEL PHELPS CAUGHT SMOKING MARIJUANA OUT OF A BONG" oh good gracious no, he has committed an act 95% of Americans do daily, tisk tisk. So I decided to wait until "up next" which of course is not until the end of the the program, to see exactly what has caused such an uproar with this young Olympic athlete. After a long 55 minutes of seeing a car chase, how to get new botox, and what not to eat during your lunch break, which by the way without all this information I don't think I would have made it through my Wednesday, Phelps finally comes on my screen. Now I'm thinking it must have something to do with them taking away his medals for smoking an illegal drug during his meets, or someone is going to sue him for being a bad role model, not even close. The anchor comes on and says something to the effect of " Olympic superstar Michael Phepls caught smoking marijuana out of a bong, the young athlete says he regrets his youthful acts and promises it will never happen again....". That's it. Nothing about how he was caught, who, what, where, when, why. And there we have it, a common American "news special" oh don't worry we'll put information about the millions dying of starvation, the eco system being destroyed, and the fact that were falling into a deppression until next time. That is presuming nothing "important" like a car chase, new ways to look skinny, or star accident comes up first.

Maybe if I go stand on Sunset Blvd. and interpretive dance to celien dion with a poodle I might make the evening news edition. "Crazy Hippie girl dances on the streets of LA" I could be famous.

Ode to coffee

2009-01-31T18:41:00.000-08:00

I'm an employee at a world wide known loved coffee shop in the USA. I get payed to smile and lie to hundreds of people every day and "just say yes!". I work in the suburbs of a Southern California town which means most of the people I encounter, if you could even call them people, are "rich" and conceded individuals with cars that could kill an entire portion of the rain forest just by starting up, and more problems than the teens on Laguna Beach. Also I am embarrassed to say I live in what is home to the desperate house wives of the Inland Empire. It amazes me some of the customers that walk through my door daily. Over the past year I have come to know them not by their name, but by their drink/nickname that is given to them based off of their actions in the store. Picture a small cafe, probably 35 feet in length with all the quaint coffee accessories imaginable. Oh how exciting, it's like your going to the theater! Now clear your mind and let us begin. In walks a 6'2 ish woman who looks like a Hungarian warrior off the discovery channel. Now if her bird-like nose doesn't catch your attention, then her over sized bust in an ill fitted shirt will. She is one of those "church going" Christians, you know the type that yells at people during the week and praises God on Sunday. She orders a complex, espresso beverage with extra breve pretty much daily. Now you think the drink sounds ridiculous, try making it. She not only is completely rude to everyone that she encounters, but if you charge her for breve (which you should) or do not make her drink accordingly to the "physics of life", you have to "just say yes" and re-make it all over. Well last Monday she stomps in with her manly, prissy, tight clothing self to order her wonderful beverage. Mind you I never say but the usual greeting to the woman, but she comes up to the register in a hissy and sighs at the fact that I dare to take her order and yells for another employee to please help her. I simply answer back that everyone else is busy and I have no problem helping her with her needs, the presence of forced pleasantness could be felt throughout the town. She continues to tell me that I am ill equipped to help her, and that my slutty, whore self will be going to hell because of the way I have treated her (I am wearing a long sleaved button up to the neck, tucked in shirt with pants). Now this is a "godly" woman who I have said probably as minimal as possible to who is condemning me to hell, pretty harsh wouldn't you say? I try to calm her down as well as myself but it seems she is on a roll and must state her every thought. She begins telling the entire line how she is a victim of hypocrisy...*ummm ok*.... and that I should be reported to the district manager for not upholding the the stores standards. Personally I think she has realized how ugly and unhappy she is and tries to suck the life out of sincere and pleasant employees. She then stores their poor souls in her badly fitted bra to feed on at night after she has downed her 800+ calorie beverage. Anyway I leave the floor by this time and return to wash some dishes which have piled up because a certain co-worker is a waste of labor who just stands around and stares at me all day( we'll hear more of him later). I come out 30 min later and behold she is complaining to customers about the "incident" that happened earlier. She comes to the front and demands a complaint card, I hand one out and she starts yelling at me saying I will never become anything in this world, I might as well just work at McDonald's...? By this time the anger within me cannot be withheld any longer I then push the card at her and tell her she is trash in society, the way she uses her words to address people sickens me and I don't care what kind of car she drives, how high up on the hill she lives or what God she praises because she will be nothing more than the dirt on the floor in society because she contributes nothing tactful in the life of herself or others, I then state my name and walk away. The look of disgust that a small framed girl has challenged her word was priceless, and I wish that I could have captured how she resembled the man in the pit of despair in the Princess Bride. I now call her Breve B**ch.