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Do you ever get that feeling where a feeling isn't reciprocated? Where no matter how much you want to say, you just can't put it into words? And even then if your thoughts somehow translate into some sort of language, you yourself still can't even understand their meaning? It's a total catch-22 because you want to say the right thing, but don't want to risk losing something or someone that you've grown to care about. So at this pivotal point, the question stands: what to do to show that you care and are interested without seeming overly eager/borderline crazy? A simple phone call, or even a text, is all it takes. Just one. Don't keep me in the dark. Not knowing and hovering in an oblivious state tends to take a greater toll on one's consciousness than knowing (with a possibility of getting hurt) and dealing with consequences...picking up the pieces. Honesty is key. Just...tell me.

Miss my cupcakes. That's all.

Couch Talk

Since my return from the oh-so golden state of Cali-forn-ia, I've been living the glorified life of sleeping on a couch at my pops' house, waiting tables at a local restaurant, while waiting to hear from jobs. My frustration level at this point is through the roof, seeing that I have a 4-year degree, yet am living the life of a student on summer vacation...working for money just to get by for a couple months. I've come to realize that this job hiatus has a certain way to trodden one's sense of perseverance, persistence, and an overall sense of being. What makes employers tend to blatantly look over people like me, a recent college graduate? How am I supposed to gain experience in the field...if no one will hire a fresh student - with little to no experience? It's a total catch-22; they want me to have experience, yet no one is willing to give me that experience. So here I sit, mindlessly blogging/whining about it while sitting on my couch/bed for the time being.

When I first arrived in San Diego, I was beyond eager to begin my job hunt. Now, 4 months later, the whole searching aspect of starting a new chapter in life has pretty much lost it's charisma. After applying to 70+ jobs at this point, the idea of something coming along seems to be somewhat of a joke by now. I'm fully aware that it takes awhile for HR departments to get back to applicants (if they have an ounce of heart and actually decide to get back at all). But, it's very disheartening to know that hours of applying after 4 years and countless hours of work has only led me here. To the couch. Serving at a restaurant, which, in itself is demeaning to know that it is the only possible job for me; so therefore, yes, I will put up with people's shitty 1.8% tips and continue to get yelled at for doing the right thing.

On the plus side, I have no expenses other than gas and the occasional $10 movie ticket. "Going out" doesn't really spark my interest as it did before, and I don't particularly have the dinero to blow on overpriced beer. Having little money at this point has made me cherish those things that I once took for granted: a roof over my head, tasty home-cooked meals, a comfortable resting place, and family as a support system. It all sounds cheesy, but at some point these simple luxuries start to dwindle away (except family). And since my westward departure back home to the east, I have a new-found appreciation for many things in my life. Now, it's time for me to start living.

Noise.

Just a couple things. San Diego has the most beautiful, perfect weather just about all year round. Therefore, air condition is completely unnecessary - open windows create the perfect air flow with the perfect temperature. I have kept my bedroom windows open solely for this reason (and also so I don't sleep in longer than need be). But...sometimes there's a pay-off for leaving them open.

Pros:

-nice breeze

-hearing the ocean at night

-waking up to sunrises beyond the palm trees

Cons:

-waking up to any of the following (sometimes before dawn): jumbo jet airliners taking off every 10 minutes, squawking parrots (not the cool, talking kind), children screaming/crying, homeless people (sometimes families) with shopping carts full of recycling, people rummaging through dumpsters for recycling, fog horn every 3 minutes, traffic, other people's music/conversations, jackhammers, hedge trimmers, leaf blowers, dogs, cat fights,

-overheating in the middle of the night..but this may not be due to the open windows

-again...just...loud things in general

So there it is. My mini-rant of how loud it can be here. Other than that, I couldn't have picked a better city to settle in for a bit. I love it here, but the east is where my heart lies. It's notoriously tacky, but this is stamped on my heart forever - and I love it:

Because from that, you get this:

Keep me where the light is.

On Skewl

For the past 17 years of my life, the last couple weeks of August always held a modge podge of feelings. At the start of every summer, there's a desire to do everything you can, yet want to do nothing at all. I would always plan out my whole summer - go here, there, and anywhere in between. But I found that some of the best days were those spent when plans weren't made, expecting nothing from nothing. Don't get me wrong - that doesn't entail sitting inside twiddling my thumbs while staring at the wall, waiting for something to happen. Doing nothing means going with the flow and accepting whatever comes along. So, within those few days of summer with the thought of the first day of school creeping in, there's a desire to get everything done that you had put off the whole summer. That's when it hits you - the very last weekend is overwhelmingly depressing. Then when that Sunday night rolls around and you realize that secretly you anticipate that first day of school - seeing your friends for possibly the first time in months, being able to use all the (sometimes unnecessary) new school supplies, showing off your phresh new school clothes, and most importantly, finding out who's in your lunch. So after all the built-up depression that last weekend, you finally realize that this is what you're used to, this is the cycle that you've grown to repeat every summer since age 5. With every excitement and new opportunity, there's a price to pay - may it be homework, a shitty teacher (or boss), or just the idea of settling into another routine.

And then there was college. Imagine the Sunday night before your first day of middle school. Take that anxiety, multiply it by about 50, and add that to the idea of not knowing where the hell any of your classes are...in different buildings...that may not even be within the 15-minute time slot alloted between classes. And there you have the first day of your freshman year of college. Then, by the next semester, your collegiate arrogance allows you to think you have everything laid out to the T. But little do you know, you'll still be learning (beyond the classroom) about the place you've grown to love - your home away from home - even beyond your own will. My senior year, I think I learned more than my previous 3 years combined. Since I've been on my own, I've had a chance to grow into myself, who I'm meant to be. I've yet to completely find that out, but it's been a hell of a ride getting there. With every mistake, failure, regret, there's always something to have learned from it. Without them, I wouldn't be here. Each one has shone a new light upon me, and I am able to know what I don't want for myself. Take it for what it's worth, but sometimes getting trampled on brings out the best in your inner self if you're able to look beyond the misgivings. (I miss JMU.)

So now what? Everyone is going back to school either this week or next and here I sit. Waiting very patiently to hear from jobs. Luckily, I've been fortunate enough to undertake my job hunt in one of the most lax cities with the most beautiful weather, so I'm not complaining. Unfortunately, since the job search hasn't been so fruitful for me here, I'm heading back to my roots - the east coast. It's good to know that I have family all over the country that is willing to take me in for however long need be. Give and you shall receive.

With that said, the whole first couple weeks of classes my freshman year were further amped with overwhelming excitement for John Mayer's release of Continuum. The night of September 13, 2006, his first concert complete with new songs streamed live online from Webster Hall in NYC. That day, the only thing I wanted was to be able to use the internet for an hour 1/2 to watch it...that's all. But, no. Why, of course we would have a fire drill and not be allowed back in the building right at the start of the concert! So, the song below is part of the concert that I missed, but managed to download and listen on repeat. Adios, escuela. May you bring the same pain and pleasure to everyone who stands before you.

On Distances

As I've tried to tell myself time and time again, no amount of distance can hold you back so long as your heart is in it. Since my time in San Diego, I'm pretty sure it's only made the bond between my true, close friends and family stronger than before. That sense of separation sparks an unstoppable force to strengthen loosened ties to prove yourself right that you truly have ones who care for you and love you. I'm a firm believer of "absence makes the heart grow fonder"; but if the feeling isn't reciprocated, then hasta nunca. Don't be afraid to put your heart on the line - most of what I've learned thus far has come from countless heartbreaks and let-downs. It only proves to show what you don't want in someone or something, or even somewhere for that matter. And now I finally know what it feels like to be treated right. So long as you put as much, if not more, than what you expect in return, you're golden.

I'd be a fool to say I don't miss Virginia (the mountains especially...see picture insert), my family, my friends, etc., etc. But the cross-country gap has only cemented my love for everything that encompasses my definition of home. Don't take for granted what you truly love and enjoy because you'll know just how much it means - or meant - to you once it slips through your fingers. Needless to say, I miss home.

After my first trip to LA, I can safely say that it's not my type of scene. Granted, I've only been in San Diego for about a month now, but I've grown to love the city as a whole. LA is just...too much. Too many people..too many cars (traffic is a nightmare)...just all in all too much for me to handle. As I was inching my way through gridlock traffic, an odd feeling came over me. I could somehow sense the countless broken dreams that LA has seen, but could still feel the liveliness and richness of the high-class society that managed to make it in the city of dreams. I can see how one could be swallowed whole in it. With that said, as I was cruisin down the 5, an overwhelming sense of relief and comfort ran through me as I saw familiar signs and roads leading me back to San Diego. Some places are just meant for certain people - I don't think I'm gonna go to LA anymore. But! I did get a chance to ride on Mulholland Drive, so the video below is my salute to LA. No words are needed - the guitar does all the talking.

End of Ends

Say what you will, but collectively, this has hands down been the best - and only - series I have ever read. Fortunately, as much as adapted films can be, each has proved itself as good, if not better, than the last (with the exception of The Order of the Phoenix). But everyone is entitled a fluke once in awhile, right? Up until my sophomore year of college, I had been adamant not to hop onto (what I had believed to be) a childish bandwagon franchise. Knowing that the series started when Harry was roughly the same age as myself (~13ish, 6th grade), I wouldn't have dared to set aside time to read any of these. As a matter of fact, I didn't really know about it until about my freshman year of high school. So, until that one summer night after my freshman year of college, I had been stubborn enough not to even watch any of the movies. A friend forced me to sit down and stomach through the first movie - The Sorcerer's Stone. Within the first 10 minutes, I had planned in my head when and how I was going to get my hands on the first book of the series. The rest is history. I managed to finish the first six books within about 6 months and asked for the last one as a Christmas present. I wanted to savor the last of the last, so I took my time to digest most of it. That is, until one super rainy day during my first visit to San Diego. I started to read and after each page I started to realize just how fast I was flipping the pages. Needless to say, I only remember bits and pieces of it, but the feeling that it left within me I will not forget - an everlasting bond between myself and an entirely fictional world from the masterminded J.K.Rowling. Ultimately what this post is about, is that when I first watched the trailer for Part 1 of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, chills ran through my body and before I knew it (yes, I will admit), my eyes welled up with tears. These weren't like those tears of a teeny-bopper's love of Edward Cullen (a whole different story), but tears of my senses and subconscious knowing that this film is half of the end of a series I have come to love. The storyline, characters, etc. is compelling enough to have drawn me in to a world of another's. I just hope I survive until July 2011 to make it to Part II...then my HP experience will be fulfilled. Until November, the trailer will suffice.

Chew on this, Twilight fans:

Deeper Than You Think

We've always dreamt of taking hold of our dreams or, better yet, making our dreams become reality. But what if the two are switched? What if, at one point, the two become so intermingled that one is chiefly as realistic as the other? After hearing all the hype about Christopher Nolan's Inception, I ventured solo to the theater (this is becoming a recurring Nolan theme after seeing The Dark Knight by my lonesome two summers ago). After walking out of the theater, I noticed that after the ideas instilled in the movie have inclined me to become more conscientious about the division between dreams and realities. My state of awareness is at its peak regarding what dreams I hope become realities. Before making the move to San Diego, I thought it would always be a dream I longed for. Now that I'm here, it doesn't even quite feel real that I am...here. So, in order to set apart dreams from reality, I'm making sure I get my full 8 hours tonight.

Now, if only there was a way to record dreams - both those remembered and those forgotten in the depths of our mind. Mind Heist at its maximum potential.

Goodnight.