Richardson Grove, CA Sept 8-14, 2009

Day 1 (continued): With the fire going and the sun about to set, we sat around the fire and said nothing. I realized to myself that even though we sat in silence there was probably a fury of ideas, questions and things to do that were rapidly firing in our minds between the 3 of us. I imagine if we could actually hear the ideas coming and going within our brains it would sound like a very loud buzzing noise and then a loud CLAP! or POP! I don’t know why. That’s just what I think I would hear. But the only thing that could be heard then was the slow inhaling and exhaling of our cigarettes and Adrian’s ipod softly playing in the background. We watched the fire roar for a bit, I looked up into the canopy of the trees and felt…uneasy. I just couldn’t relax for some reason. I thought that maybe it was because I was just over stimulated today; with the riding around all over the place and those “set backs” happening, I guess it would be hard to relax. I thought this would be a good time to fix myself a drink and get dinner prepared.

Since it was our first night and it was only the 3 of us, we didn’t go too crazy with dinner. It was just hot dogs and chips or something. Last year, I think we just grilled our hot dogs on the grill we brought but this time we decided that over the open fire would be a better choice. Luckily, Robbie remembered to bring his, what I call “hot dog prod”. It’s shaped like a grill fork, with 2 tines, but it can extend and condense like those older radio antennas. Excitedly, Robbie went first. It was a little funny to watch him squatting near the fire carefully turning his hot dog around and around over the flames with a big grin on his face, almost child like. Once Robbie got his hot dog on his bun, he ate happily. I decided, when it was my turn, that it would be silly for Adrian to wait to cook his hot dog since there were 2 tines on the fork. With the request from Adrian to “burn my hot dog, please!” I knew I would have to endure the heat of the fire a little longer than anticipated. Squatting there, concentrating on the odd shape pieces of processed meat turning and turning around and around over the open flame, a meditative state came over me. The fire jumped and hissed… Read the rest of this entry »

Richardson Grove, CA: Sept 8th-14th 2009
My year begins in September. I still have some weird internal clock from going to school that tells me that the “new year” starts in September. Now I have a new reason to think that. I look forward to this camping trip all year long. Technically I’m still a “newbie” to camping, but I think I caught on to it pretty quickly. The idea of camping as recreation is strange. Over 100 years ago, our ancestors were “camping” because they had to. People were “roughing it” out in the wilderness to survive. I doubt they would call what they were doing “fun”. But that’s the privilege we have for living in our world now. We get to “escape” our lives for a little while, go out into the wilderness and just let our minds turn to jelly. This camping trip symbolizes many things. It’s the end of summer but definitely a new beginning. It’s a bonding experience I make with my friends. Relationships are made stronger or completely destroyed. It’s also a chance to connect with yourself; check in and recharge..

It’s difficult to walk into a situation and not have expectations. Some people can do it, I can’t. I do know better than to have the same expectations as last year, but for some reason I was a little bit anxious. There were all these things I wanted to do before we left. I wanted to get a new battery for my camera. I wanted to buy new tapes. I wanted to buy an extra first-aid kit. I didn’t pack until the absolute last minute. I don’t know what happened. I ran out of time. For some reason, this happens every so often. People have “off days”, I tend to have “off weeks”. Whenever this happens it’s concerning to me. It makes me think I am distracted for some reason; not thinking straight. And when I get like this, I make bad decisions. I try not to think about it too much and move on. I don’t want it to ruin my trip….

Day 1: Robbie, Adrian and I arrive a little after 1 pm. Thankfully, our favorite camping spot is open. We get out to stretch our weary limbs from a not so long 4 hour trip. I say “not so long” because even though it was definitely a 4 hour trip, it did not feel like one. Our conversations were kept to a minimum, we even stopped a couple of times but before we knew it, we were here. No time to relax though, there is work to be done. We start out by completely emptying out Robbie’s car. Tents, chairs, overnight bags, blow-up beds, sleeping bags, pillows, all our food, food equipment, etc. etc. Then it’s time to set up tents. It’s back-breaking work; long  and tiring. From sitting in a car for 4 hours to all of a sudden lifting, hauling, bending, squatting at an elevation of about 150 m., believe me it’s hard work. After we set up our tents, we have to pull out the food and set it up into the cabinets available, so the bears won’t get to it. (There is always the threat of bears there.) Set up the grill, set up the burners, we set up everything to make our little spot feel more like “home.” About 2 hours later, we were satisfied enough to sit for a bit and enjoy a smoke. But we definitely were not done yet, there was still the matter of food and wood. We stop by this curio shop that’s carved into the mountain all the time for wood… Read the rest of this entry »

” Look at me/ look at me/ hands in the air and it’s great to be alive…” (Flobots)

I was watching a show about a fight club. It was started by 3 men trained in martial arts.  They would attend tournaments, but at these tournaments the fighters wore heavy padding and followed rules and had blunt objects. And because of the rules, they pretty much knew what the fighter’s next move would be. So they started this fight club in order to see if all their training would actually hold up to someone really attacking them. There are no rules in the fight club. And the only protection they wear is a face mask, like fencers wear and some padding on the arms. It’s brutal. People get hurt. People bleed. Who in their right mind would want to do this? The people showcased in this TV show are your “average joes”. There was an EMT, a writer/bartender, a massage therapist, some business analyst, etc. etc. Why do they fight? Their answers were unexpected.  Some of them are trained in martial arts, but most of them came here to fufill a personal goal. The writer/ bartender is actually afraid of fighting; afraid of confrontation. He feels that in order to overcome this fear, he has to fight. The corrections officer fights because he recently recovered from a spinal injury. He feels he needs to fight in order to complete his therapy, mentally and physically.  The EMT hates fighting. He gets anxious at every gathering of the fight club. He feels as though he is going to throw up. At first he said, he did it just to see if he could do it. But he keeps coming back. And he keeps fighting. Why? . One could look at this fight club and very easily pass judgement on it by saying it’s a metaphor on how we percieve males in our society or how males percieve themselves; our society has driven them to do this in order to feel adequate and that it’s all ego. That’s valid. But there is something primeval about fighting; bodies crashing into each other, screaming, pulling, punching. It’s raw emotion. There’s only one thought involved: Survive. The strategy? Fight.

So fighting is life. There are so many emotions involed when we fight; fear, anger, passion, love. How do you know you’re alive if you don’t fight? We all fight; all the time. Maybe its not always physical but its a fight all the same. Maybe its for a cause you believe in, or for something you want. Maybe you fight to make positive changes for your community, for those last 5 pounds or for that really good parking spot.

I fight. I fight myself everyday. I fight to get up in the morning. I fight for some sleep at night. I fight to convice others that I’m ok and I fight to believe that myself. I fight not to isolate. I fight the bad thoughts and the urge to end it all. And I promise to continue to fight; everyday, every morning, I will get up to face the day and conquer my anxieties. I promise I will fight by any means possible in order to survive and know that I am alive Read the rest of this entry »

“I’m a creep/I’m a weirdo/What the hell am I doing here?/ I don’t belong here.” (Radiohead)

Eric. Eric is the cook on Sunday evenings at the wine bistro. Eric intrigues me. But not because he’s heavily involved in the theater department at the community college, not because he carries a selection of lighting filters around with him and certainly not because he has a fascination for guns and violence. He intrigues me because he’s 19 and we have a lot to talk about. Last Sunday was a particularly slow day at the bistro and Eric pulled out his homework. After 20 minutes or so he said, “Can you help me with my homework?” I felt so old. I didn’t think I would ever hear those words from anyone. Unable to help him, he put away the books and we made coffee. We stood around for hours or out smoking cigarettes just talking, drinking coffee on a a completely dreary and rainy day about…stuff. I forgot about feeling old. At one point, I made him laugh so hard that he called his friend right then and there and told him the joke. It made me feel good. While we talked, I drifted off for a few minutes and tried to remember what it was like being 19. I didn’t remember. I don’t remember! I realized that I don’t really remember a lot of being younger. I remember feelings, random things; things like that. Like I remember I didn’t like high school, but it’s really more of a feeling that I have now. I remember not going to class, but that’s about it. I remember feeling awkward and uncomfortable in my own skin at times. But all the ages, dates and times seem to run together. I marveled at how comfortable Eric seemed when speaking with a person older than him. I don’t know if I would have felt the same at his age. I am reminded of that movie “Big”. The longer Josh stays an adult, the more he forgets what it’s like to be a kid. I really didn’t see this coming. I never thought it would happen, either. I’m an adult, I guess. I mean, I technically have been for some time, but I actually feel like one now. And what is the definition of an “adult”? What constitutes you as one? Well, in my opinion, it comes down to experience. I handle certain situations easier because I have the experience. I don’t let things bother me as much because I have experience. I’m letting go; I don’t feel so awkward; all because of experience. It’s a strange coincidence…tonight at dinner my mother was talking about opening a bakery in the Philippines and calling it “The La PazExperience”. We laughed a little at the idea because 1. my mother does NOT bake. and 2. We thought the name was…funny. My mother insisted that she wanted to have some sort of business with the word “experience” in it. We continued throughout dinner trying to convince my mother to think of another name. I didn’t realize what a powerful word it is. To say you have experience in something could mean people believing you or not, knowing what to do in a situation and running a successful business. It’s life changing and definitely gives us a new point of view.

Near the end of my shift, Eric was explaining to me the the different lighting techniques he was considering using for a classmate’s short play. He told me the plot of the play and I said, “Hm. Sounds interesting.” And it did sound interesting. He pulled out a copy of the play and said, “You can read it if you want, it’s really short.” With which I replied, ” Nah, I don’t really care.” We chuckled lightly at my brutally honest answer. I guess it’s suffice to say Eric and I share the same sense of humor which in turn makes him easy to talk to. Only being 19, maybe Eric is one of the lucky ones who developed early socially and just knows how to compose himself around people and handle situations. After one last smoke, my shift was over and as I was getting ready to leave, me being only  5′2″, I reached up to Eric to give him a hug good-bye. We clumsily navigated our arms around each other, and as we let go Eric smiled and said, “That was awkward.”

Ok. So I went to the pharmacy around 6pm to fill my prescription and they told me it would be ready at 730pm. I had several options at that point; I could leave somewhere and just come back. But knowing myself, I would most likely go some place that involved alcohol and I wouldn’t make it back and I really needed my medication that night. I could go back home and come back, but again knowing myself, once I made it home I wouldn’t want to leave the house again. I could just stay and wait; but what would I do for an hour and a half? I decided the safest choice would be to just stay and wait in the car, I’m sure I could amuse myself for 90 minutes. I told myself it would be a test to my patience. How long could and sit with myself and just do nothing? So I sat. I have to admit that I cheated a little with the help of my friend, we texted back and forth during that time which helped. But for the most part, it was just me in the car with my thoughts. Actually, I didn’t even have to think that much. The cars and the people coming in and out of the parking lot were enough to keep me distracted. Right away a group of 6 people walked into the sushi restaurant. They sat near the window and I watched them intently. They didn’t really look like the sushi eating type. I watched as they pulled their chopsticks apart. I counted every edamame they picked up. I made a bet with myself that they would order tempura. I would have been able to settle that bet too if this woman didn’t park right in front of me. Oh well. No matter. I can still count the people that walk into the restaurant, which was quite a lot that night; most likely people wanting to get a head start on the Valentine’s weekend. But it was enough that it got the people working in the mexican taqueria next door curious enough to leave their store and walk past the sushi restaurant and peep in. And that’s how it went for 90 minutes; people walking in, people walking out; cars driving in, cars driving out. One woman who parked right next to me left her window wide open. She was gone for some time and there was quite a bit of junk in her car. Apparantly, she didn’t care much for them. The rest of the people in the parking lot were less interesting. I guess it is a little intimidating seeing someone just sitting in their car staring at everyone. I would be suspicious as to what their intentions were and I certainly would think twice before parking next to them. Or if I had to park next to them, I would lock and double check of all my belongings before leaving my car. I did take note that that seemed to be most people’s attitutde when they saw me sitting in the car… Read the rest of this entry »