on 4/24/2005 10:26:00 PM
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I could never really get around to bragging how much better my life was in LA. All I could tell Jole, DSLars, and Dima was my observations in LA, and then we'd do something Santa Cruz.
For at least two days I definitely felt like the "Slu" part of the Student Hybrid "Sluin" (Slug and Bruin, a more phonetic and less-controversial expression of a UCSC-UCLA transfer than "Banana Bruin") rise in me. You know, with slug veins all over my face and everything. Only that I was actually driving around school and had to actually sleep in Danny's ketchup-scented, debris-infested downtown room at the University Town Center.
But everything that was Santa Cruz for me was still Santa Cruz.
Which means, nothing was too shocking or "exotic". Everything just kinda happened. There was no conception of the real world as everything seemed surreal. There was no memory of what you would do in the past elsewhere as time was simply locked in an endless, but calming flow. Be it:
- The large swamp of revolutionary bumper sticker filled cars.
- The harmless bums downtown.
- Natty bridges, and it's natural beauty.
- Dippin' Dots at the boardwalk. The fucking ice cream of the future.
- Tent University. . .fuck the police ! Seriously. Those fucking police should have their asses sued for suffocating these peaceful protestors.
- The random washed-out middle-aged dirty white dude out of nowhere on Cedar Street asked Daniel to tell him specifically that it wasn't going to rain. Daniel stepped back, talked to him like he was any other dude, and said. . .it wasn't going to rain ! We stepped back and acted like nothing happened. Like I said, you expect anything there.
Whatever is that I saw happen, happened at a sluggish, but flowy Bob Marley-joint pace.
Most especially with the PCC afterparty. 2 hours after PCC, Roys friends were still drinking. They figured they get wasted there and that the cops wouldn't bust the party for a while. They were right. The PCC afterparty didn't even really begin till 12:30 A, despite the show ending at 10 P.
Half the fun at SC would not be possible without my friends, Joel, Daniel, and Roy. It was like I never left. . .something I realized as I walked up Science Hill after hiking the quarry with Daniel.
Half the fun of being with my friends was talking shit in person, complete with impressions and gestures, with people who understood me and my language.
Especially when Roy and I jokingly made diss-references to Botchoy, Elle, and Jacilicious for no good reason.
Of course we, including Danny also spent a lot of time talking about the female gender and our pathetic and funny shortcomings. Though separately. . .which reminds me. . . I am mediating between the two powers. LOL, you fools gotta stop taking shots at each other, unless its all in fun and understanding in front of each other.
I also forgot how much I hated Cowell. But dissing Cowell College for its dogged "commitment to diversity" just brought it all back. Heh. Actually, when I went back to visit Harlan, the leafy smell as I headed up Beard House just brought back memories of how loose and how much white and Asian girls would get thumped. I remember thinking at one point in time, and actually still do: No one is innocent at UCSC !
While conversation is about half the fun with my friends at SC (that's the remaining 50% of the 50% of fun while at SC you math whizzes), the stuff we did was also fun.
It's always fun to support the little Chinese kids by buying Chinese food at the Metro station. Heh, Joel, DS and I determined that whoever did not want to go there was probably not worthy of being any of our friends.
The ritual of the obligatory Black and Mild cigar from 7-11 with Daniel and Joel. One I started when I first got to Santa Cruz and continued till last year. However instead of the fourth floor of Prescott, we did it at the UTC facing an alley in the rain. Hardocre. We either looked real badass or real stupid. Probably more towards real stupid as we used up about half the matches before any of us could light it up.
And PCC 14.
Oh, big Des on the low low, you seriously, seriously missed out. And anyone else who did not go, did too.
Apparently, Roy still had about 40% of his material used in the play. . .and I guess I could verify it by looking at the script. . .and it was pretty fucking good. . .very fucking good. Leaps and bounds better than PCC 2004. Front row seats, too.
Very innovative and creative stuff.
Isang Himig did all a capella and ended up sounding real good. LOL, good job Crown guy. . .busting out the conductor's stick and everything. . .either too full of himself or he's such a geek. Probably both, but everything sounded airtight. Nothing other than Crown guy that I could poke holes in.
Haluan's hip-hop dancing was very very good. Very tight as usual.
The commercials were way too much. Holy shit. Holy. I'm smiling big just thinking about the Filipino Basedow, the Rocky music playing with the tall guy doing all this training for Tinikling, the Boy's greatest hits. Oh man. That really killed.
And of course People Power, anchored by Calvin and Roy's friend, Winston, held it down. Ronna was of course her usual "ma landi" character and always manages to steal quite a few laughs with her antics. That mother of Winston's character was awesome as well. According to Roy, the cast members did a lot of improvising because they hated the new and revised script.
However, if there's one complaint I have about PCC or the Filipino group in general, it's that the Santa Cruz FSA has a definite hierarchy. It's a social one, but I'm in a completely different world now at LA.
But anyway I saw a lot of the chick I loved staring at; don't know if she remembered me or if she cared to. Probably not. Bittersweet it is. I have a better chance of getting into Harvard than ever getting her, being that I live a good 6 hour drive away from Santa Cruz.
What a world I left. My time there was just all one big dream, which is why I become nostalgic and kinda sad whenever I listen to "Only in Dreams" by Weezer. However, my time there was not all great and fun as it did rain and I did have those lonely moments, but it's definitely always a step out of "reality" there. I still don't know if that's a bad or good thing, but what I do know. . .It's. . .
A place of creativity. Where I learned to think. And think critically and take care of myself. Take care of myself not just logistically but also. . .holistically.
I'm back in LA now.
Labels: Life's Stories, UCSC