Oxford Anniversary

I can hardly believe it's been 4 years as of this month, since the Oxford study abroad trip. I will always cherish the amazing people, crazy adventures and memories that will last me a lifetime. More than anything, the trip ignited a travel bug in me that will never be extinguished. I cannot wait to go back! 

Man's Best Friend

Flashback

Seems like it was just yesterday, I remember sitting in my room watching TV and hearing this tapping sound on the wall in our kitchen. I jumped out of bed and looked into the kitchen where Angel, my black Labrador sleeps. For some reason, this sound didn't resonate as familiar to me. This wasn't my dog scratching her paw and bumping into the wall, this sounded like she was running on the wall. And for a moment, that's what it looked like. Angel was having a seizure, the first one that I had witnessed, although it's probable that this was not the first one she had experienced to date. Having never experienced a seizure first hand from either human or animal, I can safely say it was the most terrifying experience of my life. In a panic, I woke up my mom, we called animal urgent care and they advised us to bring her in. Once she had come out of the seizure, she had stumbled around the kitchen a bit, before doing laps around the backyard and kitchen. The neurological aspect of a seizure becomes pretty clear almost immediately and it's difficult because you don't know what lasting effect it is going to have on an animal. They can't tell you where it hurts or what they are feeling or even what they are thinking. Later that night, after things had settled down a bit, I took Angel to the Vet Urgent Care in Newport Beach as they had suggested I do. Upon arrival, they want to run the full gamut of tests to make sure everything is alright, but at the same time, they prey on your vulnerabilities, rather than put you at ease. After spending $500 to have tests run, everything came back perfectly normal. To leave however, you have to sign a waiver releasing them of liability in which they basically say to your face, "we don't recommend you going home because who knows what could happen during the night, but it's your choice..." I understand that it's a business, but I am already nervous and scared, and right now as a medical professional, I need you to be calm, reassuring and supportive.

Back to Normal 

Fortunately for us (and for Angel) she has an outstanding regular vet, Dr. Pursley of Northwood Animal Hospital. I always feel more comfortable when I speak with her about Angel's condition, probably because the doctor has had dogs with similar issues. But maybe even more so because I feel that there is a genuine level of compassion emanating from her. Something that seemed to be sorely lacking in the emergency room. Since the first seizure, Angel has been on a steady dose of a medicine called, Potassium Bromide. The medicine does a pretty good job of preventing seizures from reoccurring. Her day to day life went back to being the happy, energetic, puppy-like dog I've been accustomed to. There have been bumps in the road however and they are equally as frightening although now we have a little more idea of what to expect. I've witnessed three full convulsing body seizures and one that was the exact opposite. It's a crazy thing, looking at the animal you love and thinking that she is going to die.  Three times I have looked at Angel and thought that she wasn't going to make it and each time she has come back strong and surprised me.

No Time Like the Present 

This year has been without question, the most difficult year for Angel and I. If she could talk, I am certain she would agree. In the beginning of the year Angel abruptly decided that the food she had been eating for the past seven or so years was no longer suitable to her palate. When you get to be a twelve year old dog, it is understandable that your interests may change and so we did our best as owners to accommodate these changes. We have routinely shuffled through food options to keep her appetite satisfied and her energy up. Unfortunately, it hasn't been an entirely smooth process and Angel has lost about ten pounds off of what her ideal weight once was. As we celebrated her thirteenth birthday this past week, it's hard to say that there has been much to celebrate. The seizures appear to have taken more of a toll on her mind and in recent weeks it shows when she tries to walk. Legs just sort of give out on her for no reason and her head will shake through no fault of her own. It is beyond difficult to watch and even write about. In the end, I suppose to resolution will write itself. When your pet has an illness, you do whatever you can to help them because they are as much a part of your family as anyone. I love Angel and will continue to do whatever I can to keep her quality of life the best it can be for however long she has left.

Medicine, Care and Wellness in Society

Although this goes a bit off the main topic of this post, I wanted to close with a small discussion on medicine and care in our society. I have a tremendous level of respect and amazement for how advanced medical care has become in the world we live in. It is certainly hard to imagine living in a world without hospitals, specialists and urgent cares (which many people still do today). Yet I am equally amazed at how we as human beings can put a price tag on lives. Of course we live in a world that is driven by financial figures and bottom lines but it hasn't always been that way and in a perfect world, it wouldn't have to be that way. When Alexander Fleming discovered Penicillin in 1928, he revolutionized modern medicine by giving the world an antibiotic that could save countless lives. Science is phenomenal that way, it can save lives. And while I can't speak for Mr. Fleming, I am certain that he was more concerned with helping people than raking in massive profits off his discovery. We have the technology to save people's lives but only if they can afford it. Angel has had a number of tests run on her, the affordable ones. Hundreds of dollars have been spent, but we can't afford to have the brain scan that would likely have told us if she in fact had a tumor that was causing the seizures. If there was a tumor, we probably could have spent $5000 to have it removed and perhaps her quality of life might have been even better. I understand that the world I daydream about is not a reality. You talk about healthcare for everyone and you're a socialist or a communist. And sure, there are people who are those things, but I'm not. I believe that I'm just like any average person who wants a happy, healthy and comfortable life for myself and everyone in my life. If we have the cure for cancer, AIDS, spinal paralysis, then let's give it to the people. Aren't we better as a society when everyone is functioning and participating to the best of their ability?

Congratulations you've earned a Bachelor's Degree! Now what...?

Haven't we done this already?

The question seems inescapable. I remember the question as it appeared to me after high school when it sounded something like, "You barely made it out of high school, what are you going to do now? Community College? Why don't you join the Coast Guard?" Eventually, that question was answered with, go to college and get a degree. People have always said to me, "you're young, most people don't know what they want to do with their lives at your age, but you'll figure it out...eventually." Now that college has been completed, I find myself staring at the prospect of "now what" all over again.

The Road Here

As a newly minted high school graduate, I had no idea what the next step was going to be. Based on academic performance and desire, the logical choices were: continue at the current job and work your way up the corporate ladder or community college. The community college approach while reasonable on the outside, never seemed to stick post-high school. For the most part what I suffered from was a lack of maturity with a side of focus and drive. Because I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life, I enabled that uncertainty to dictate my decision making process. And while I pushed completion of my education back substantially, I did gain valuable life experience over the years. I learned what I didn't want to do (make minimum wager for the rest of my life) and used that as motivation to break out of the self-induced rut. By 2008, a return to school was on my terms. In four years I learned a great deal at both the community college and university level. You get from education exactly what you put into it and the more you are willing to learn, to expand your mind, the more fulfilling the experience becomes. At least that's the way it worked for me. From engaging professors to thought provoking courses, my educational experience was both memorable and a proud moment for me. Changing from the young adult who felt he didn't have the intelligence to complete community college to holding a Bachelor's Degree in Political Science means more to me than words can express.

Eventually

College is over now and I've got the degree I so coveted, but in turn I have also added some years to my life. I'm not your typical twenty-two year old college grad, I'm twenty-nine. The good news is, I already have a job. In fact I have done some variation of this same job for the last nine years. My early twenties or the "era of indecision" as I've deemed it, cost me certain opportunities to advance the corporate ladder which was option A. While advancing the corporate ladder isn't out of the question at twenty-nine, (I'm currently exploring opportunities to do just that) time is less in my favor. (I'm not old, I know...I just think of it relative to the education and time spent) I have bills to pay (that study abroad trip wasn't free), I'd like to move out, I want to travel the world and each of these requires money. More than I make at present. And the corporate ladder may take some time to get me to a point where I can become somewhat comfortable (financially). My other option has been to look externally for opportunities based on my work experience and the shiny new degree. Here I've run into a few more problems. For one, finding a job is full time work in itself. Browsing listings, filling out applications, tailoring yourself to meet the needs of a potential employer is all time consuming. Second, while having a bachelor's degree puts me a step ahead of some, I've dropped myself into a pool that is full of eager and determined applicants swimming around like sharks after fresh blood. In the competitive world of today, with the world economies still looking to recover, jobs are available but hard to come by. And that person who has more work experience than you or a master's degree is going to win out. I have found that it is tough to get a foot in the door and even more difficult to get a seat at the table.  All things considered though, life is heading in the right direction. One can easily become cynical with the process when it doesn't immediately generate the results you hope for. I can attest to having fallen victim to this a number of times. But I trust that things will work out and have confidence in my abilities and the investments I have made in myself. When the time is right and the opportunity presents itself, I will tackle the challenge and then be ready for the next "now what".

Mission accomplished. 

A Lifetime of Goals, Ambitions and Aspirations

On the advice of one of my favorite people in the world, Leilani, I decided to put together a list of goals, ambitions and aspirations. My hope is that I can accomplish each and every one of the tasks on here and that I will keep adding things to the list as I check others off. The goals range from small and realistic to the more challenging and optimistic. Here goes!


1. Be awesome
2. Go to Hawaii for Sean’s wedding
3. Graduate from UCI with at least a 3.0  2.9 and change
4. Drink the old bottle of beer
5. Score at least 1 goal a season in my soccer league
6. Visit family in NorCal during the summer
7. Go to at least one Giants game at AT and T Park
8. Go to 5 Angels games
9. Run three days a week
10. Complete a tough running challenge (Urbanathalon, Tough Mudder, etc…)
11. Attend Randi’s wedding
12. Spend 2-3 weeks in Europe
13. Visit the Bodels in Oxford
14. Get into an internship!
15. Take another psychology class
16. Learn to play the piano
17. Go hiking
18. Trail running
19. Find a career that I love
20. Cook more often (besides just pasta dishes)
21. Blog more
22. Finish The Girl Who Played With Fire
23. Read The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet’s Nest
24. Finish other books still needing to be read
25. Finish the last half of the final season of Prison Break
26. Put on some muscle, somehow, someway
27. Improve snowboarding skills: carving!
28. Learn how to dance respectably
29. See a Chiefs game in Kansas City
30. Attend Mardi Gras with the bro
31. Take a cross country road trip with a/some friends
32. Live in at least one big U.S. city
33. Take a ride on the Rocky Mountaineer through Canada
34. Visit or live in: Chicago, Boston, New York (again)
35. Visit all 30 baseball stadiums (10 down so far…)
36. Go snowboarding in another state
37. Live in at least two European countries
38. Live in Canada
39. Learn some French
40. Drive on the autobahn
41. Snowboard the Alps
42. Ride the Orient Express
43. 50 countries by the time I’m 50
44. Go to a multi-day concert: i.e. Stagecoach, Lollapalooza
45. Volunteer: build a house, plant trees, etc…
46. Meet a girl, fall in love
47. Get married
48. Have kids
49. Buy a new car
50. Buy a house
51. Stay active, no matter what
52. Call someone a “young whippersnapper” when I’m old
53. Be awesome

Additions:

- Watch all four major tennis tournaments in person. (Australian Open, French Open, Wimbledon, U.S. Open)
- Complete a tough man style competition, i.e. Tough Mudder, UK Tough Guy
- Visit Amarillo by morning.

Beyond Potential

For quite some time now, I had been floating the idea of writing a blog that was tentatively set to be called, "Moving Beyond Mediocrity". The basis of the subject was rooted in my thoughts surrounding a smaller percentage of people who sought greatness for themselves, versus the larger population that just wanted to live a comfortable, happy and healthy life. Today though, I was inspired to move this blog post in a different direction and write about the notion of potential.

Potential is a concept that many of us are without a doubt, very familiar with. It is something that each individual has heaped upon them from the day they are born. Our parents dream of the potential we might be able to achieve as we grow into adulthood. For some, it is becoming a doctor, lawyer, firefighter, or even the President of the United States. But this potential doesn't stop with our parents and family members. It shifts to our school teachers who judge our intelligence and learning capacities. To our employers who determine whether we are fit to seek that coveted promotion or raise. External potential though, is just one of many motivating forces. Perhaps the greatest emphasis on potential is that which we place upon ourselves. What is it that we do with all of this potential to be something or someone special? Do we use it as motivation to get the best education, the best job, and live the lives so many people dreamed we would? Or do we squander that potential, live a life below our capacities and never really reach the greatness within?

This question of potential is one that I see constantly surrounding me in friends, family and in myself. Most of these individuals inspire me with their desire to fulfill and exceed their potential. Whether it be my brother with his amazing wife, kids, job and home or a former classmate who travels the globe after maximizing his education potential. People like my friend James, who follows his free spirit and immerses himself within new cultures and countries. Or my friend from Oxford whose drive to become a model has taken her from the U.S. to China, Mexico and more. Each of these individuals and so many more inspire me everyday to work towards reaching my potential. And let's face it, that's not something I have lived up to so far.

This year I will be 29 years old, one shy of the big 3-0. I have two quarters or twenty weeks left to complete my bachelor's degree which has been 10 years in the making. With a lot of hard work and some luck, I will be able to take a step forward in fulfilling my potential whatever that ultimately may be. Since elementary school that potential has waned. I was always the kid who could get good grades if I was willing to apply myself. My grades began to decline in middle school and worsened in high school. Despite not being a delinquent, a drug user, or anything of that nature, I barely made it through high school. I was less prepared for community college and it wasn't until 2008 that I decided it was time for a change. Now, I do alright for myself, I pass my classes with some A's and a number of B's. But here again that tricky word potential comes around and tells me that I could be getting straight A's if I really applied myself. A career, if I applied myself.

Now I have decided that this is the year that I'm going to start living up to the potential and applying myself. Not because it is 2012 or because it is some sort of half hearted New Year's resolution. No, this is the year that I'm going to put my foot forward because it's time. Time to reach for the stars, time to be something more than mediocre, time to be an adult. I have said before that this is going to be a big year and I meant it. There are a tremendous amount of goals and items I have placed on my plate for this year and I intend to meet every one. I am moving beyond potential.

Unapologetic

Wow, has it really been six months since I last posted a blog entry? School and work have seriously consumed far too much of my free time. I've been meaning to blog for some time now and this entry popped into my mind when I should be doing important things like sleeping. But oh well, there's always time for that later.

I'll start this blog by taking a quote from Popeye...you know, the sailor man. He said: "I yam what I yam" or in my case, I am who I am. This has never been more apparent to me than over the past few years and has really been been reinforced of late. I truly believe that over the past several years, with age I have been able to develop a greater sense of personal identity. I know who I am, what I like and I am comfortable with the fact that it may not always be the norm.

Reading that last bit over sounds a bit bad. So let me try to explain. This past Friday, I went with a co-worker and her friend to a concert in Los Angeles to see Sara Bareilles. And sure, there were guys at this concert (in fact, more than I had expected) but undoubtedly, many were probably dragged alongside their girlfriends. Me, I volunteered to go because I like Sara. I enjoy her music, think she has an amazing voice and as I found out, is a pretty damn entertaining performer. Sure, it's not the norm, but that's me. That's who I am. I'm the guy who you're just as likely to find at the Kelly Clarkson concert as you are to find at Kroq's Acoustic Christmas. The scope of my tastes are broad and that is something I take a great deal of pride in. Diversity is important to have in all aspects of your life. It's what helps us interact with a wide range of people, which is especially important as our society becomes more and more reliant upon social media and less on face to face interaction.

Looking back on my last serious relationship, in what now seems like an eternity ago, I realize how much I have grown as a person. I knew what I wanted and most importantly I knew what I didn't want. Far too many people in this world settle for "good enough" and I promised myself I would never do that. I don't want "good enough" I want what makes me happy, no matter who likes or dislikes it. This year, I got back into the dating game, something I had steadfastly avoided for the most part while I have been putting myself through college. After an awful and bizarre date with a girl I met a couple months back I had another realization. I won't ever pretend to be someone I'm not. I care about people's well being and I am not an asshole. I'm simply getting too old to pretend I care about getting drunk and dancing at a bar or club. Those just aren't me. To pull a quote from my favorite show, How I Met Your Mother, "I suck at dating." I'm much better in a relationship, in the comfortable situation without all the bullshit. I don't want to play games and frankly, I don't even really understand them. Why do I have to wait 3 days to call a woman? That's not how I operate.

So here's my plan. I'm going to continue being me. No apologies, no regrets. Just be awesome. I'll be that guy who asks questions you don't ask on dates. Who talks about the things you don't talk about. The guy who calls in 1 or 2 days, not because I'm desperate, but because I like the person. And if you like someone, why do you have to play a game? Why can't you just be who you are? That's all I want to do, I want to be me. Yes, I will keep listening to pop music and if I can find a friend to go with me, I will keep going to pop concerts. (For the record, I would go see 2pac if he was still alive, my tastes extend much further than pop music alone).

To steal one more line (yes, I like lines that other people have used, they are good lines) from the film Friends with Benefits (a RomCom? see above if you weren't listening) it went something like this: "Life is so short and if (dealing with hardships) has taught me anything, it's that you have to enjoy every moment. And if you meet someone special, do everything possible to make sure that they don't get away."

Here's to no apologies and holding out hope that I meet a nice English girl.

Cheers

- B

Breaking Down?

I really wanted to start this blog off, "It's nine o'clock on a Saturday, the regular crowd shuffles in..." but sadly, it's not Saturday, I'm not at a bar and possibly most disheartening of all, I am not the Piano Man.

Instead, I'll start off a different way. It's 10am, I'm in beautiful Newport Beach, a part of sunny Southern California and yet, there is a slight rain coming down in the middle of June. Perhaps more exciting, is the fact that I am sitting in the office of a urologist for the second time in less than a month. Near me, are two older gentleman, of which I'd guess they are at least over 60. I spot a magazine on the table that says "Switzerland" on it which immediately piques my interest. My love affair for all things Europe started in 2009, and I practically jump at anything I find even remotely related. I grab a seat by the door and patiently wait my turn. A nurse opens the door and in what seemed like yelling to me, calls for one of the two gentleman sitting in the room with me. I realize that the nurses are probably used to hard of hearing clientele and so choose to speak louder. Once the man walks buy, I quickly shuffle over a few seats and continue reading. I suppose the question that bears asking is, why am I, at 28 years old, seeing a urologist for the second time and hanging out with the senior circuit? The answer: kidney stones. Not long before my 28th birthday, I woke on a Saturday morning to a sharp pain in my side and back. After a quick trip to the emergency room, it was confirmed that I had 6 kidney stones! Three of these stones were likely to pass soon and the others could move their way down at any point. I spent the entire weekend in bed, missing out on a 5k run that I had been looking forward to participating in with co-workers and friends. Better yet, I had midterms coming up later that week that I was supposed to be studying for, but I had little desire to do so. So the kidney stones necessitated a visit to the urologist on two separate occasions to tell me where I stood on the stone front and what I could do to prevent them from visiting me again. As it turns out, not all that much was needed to be done. In fact, the doctor told me I could Google some of the things he was giving me, in the event that I wanted to look up some preventative treatment potentials.

Sitting in that office with the over 60 crowd (and hearing the word "catheter" which made me shiver) I got to thinking about how I came to find myself in this situation. People have been telling me I'm young for so long, it just seems funny to me. And I'll admit, 28 is by no means old. But after battling kidney stones (something another doctor mentioned that he thought was just for old farts like himself) and my recent battle with gastroenteritis (stomach flu), I really started to re-evaluate my age. As a kid, people used to tell me how great my hair was and my mom loved it when I was 6 years old and had long hair. Even though I stopped using hair gel about a year or so ago, full time, my scalp bothers me like I've spent a lifetime drying it out. So what the hell is going on? I'm not old right? What gives? What's with all of the ailments? It reminds me of the episode of Friends, where the entire group relives their 30th birthday. All the while Joey acts cool, like everything will be fine, until he turns 30 and he's crying and pleading, saying that he made a deal (with god, I presume) to let the others grow old and not him. I don't think I'm there yet, but it is certainly around the corner, the big 3-0. Am I ready for it? Getting old?

In fact, ironically enough, this all comes around the same time that we received word that our 10 year high school reunion was coming up this fall. 10 years? Has it been that long already? What have I done with my life in the 10 years since high school? Sure I moved out for a minute, had a long relationship that seems like an eternity ago, studied abroad in Europe and am finally getting my bachelor's degree. But there are people out there, people I know that have kids (multiple kids!) and are married and who live in different places in the country and the world. I guess this is just one of those points in life, where you start looking around and saying, "What have I done so far with the past 10 years and what do I want to do with the next 10?" For me, I know that answer is a lot of things. My ailments are minor (as a friend with a more serious illness pointed out) and I know that great things are ahead of me. But reflection is a good thing and sometimes we forget to look at those minor accomplishments and realize, in our own lives, they're actually pretty major.

I'm not old, but sometimes it sure feels that way.

A Remarkable Journey

Two years ago today, I boarded a plane for London, the first stop on my Oxford study abroad trip. An adventure that would span ten weeks, nine countries and provide me with an array of amazing memories. I met some tremendously interesting and entertaining people, some of whom I am fortunate enough to still be in contact with today. To borrow the words of a fellow classmate, this was a trip that changed my life forever.

But how did I get here?

After spending several years attending Irvine Valley College with little consistency, I made the decision to pursue school seriously in 2008. Easing back in to the college life, I took only two classes in the Spring of '08. However, I quickly realized that if I wanted to make up for lost time, I needed to enroll in full time coursework. Frustrated by a lack of quality English teachers at Irvine Valley College and searching for alternative science classes to Biology, I enrolled concurrently at Saddleback College in the Fall of 2008. Though I knew I wanted to take a full schedule of classes, I was unsure about my working life at the time and was only able to officially register for one class. To add the other four classes, I needed to go to each class and petition for admission. I found an English professor that was highly rated online and hoped to get into that class, my first at Saddleback. Our professor informed the class that she would only be able to add four people and there were eight people hoping to enroll in the class. Each student was instructed to pick a number from a hat and only the lowest numbers would be added. To my surprise, the first four people drew the four highest numbers and were not admitted to the class. I was fortunate to be admitted without having to draw. My luck would continue as I was easily able to enroll in Anthropology and its lab as well as Economics. On a walk through campus, I came across a sign that read: "Oxford Study Abroad." On a whim, I decided to email the professor running the program for more information. She invited me to an information session where she explained the different aspects of the program. Immediately I was sold. I knew I wanted to take this trip, I just needed to figure out how I was going to make it work.

Shortly thereafter I reached out to friends and family for support. My boss was generous enough to provide me with one of the letters of recommendation needed for the trip and my best friend co-signed for my loan. By the time Spring rolled around, I could barely contain my enthusiasm. The eight weeks of classes flew by and before I knew it, I was packing for the trip. Prior to departure, I met with many of my fellow travelers and we planned a trip to Dublin. I was thrilled to meet others who were as genuinely as excited as I was and looking to experience as much of Europe as possible.

On the day of the trip, I was dropped off at LAX, prepared to embark on what has been my longest solo flight to date. I had only been out of the country once and I was eleven at the time. So much had changed in those fifteen years, but I was ready for whatever lay ahead. Although I have always been a person who thrives amongst his friends, I was finally doing something alone, a big something and I couldn't be more excited. There were no expectations, no ideas for what the next ten weeks had in store for me, but that didn't matter...it was all about the journey.

And now...

Almost daily I find myself reminiscing about the trip, from magazines I read to the classes I take, it seems like there's something that is always bringing me back to Oxford. And even though I know it would never be the same, I wish that we could go back and experience it all over again. My classmate was right, this trip certainly changed my life, so much so that I'm strongly considering the prospect of moving to London after graduation in 2012.

Cheers Oxford, I'll see you in 2012!

The Smell of Christmas

I've always found it fascinating the way our minds can tie certain smells and sights into particular memories. Even instances in which we can't recall the entire memory, our minds still take us back to that time and in many cases, we remember it fondly. One of the most prominent smells that my mind coincides with a particular memory is that of Christmas.

Several days ago, I was on a walk with my dog Angel in the evening. While it's true we don't have too many "winter" qualities in Southern California, it does get fairly chilly in the evenings and on occasion families will have a fire burning. I've never been sure if there is a particular firewood that gives off the smell I associate with Christmas, but it is very distinct. During the walk, as the smell wafted through my nose, I was immediately transported back to my grandparent's house in Pasadena. For Christmas, my small, but close-knit family would come together with grandma and grandpa and celebrate with food and gifts. Presents under the little fake Christmas tree, cookies and milk at the table waiting for Santa to arrive marked just a few of the memories that popped into my head. I can remember as if it were yesterday, walking through the Pasadena neighborhood with distinct smell of fireplaces burning and thinking, "this is Christmas".

More than anything, I suppose, it's the association of sights and smells with good times. The smell of pumpkin pie brings me back to Thanksgiving and helping my grandma make pies from scratch. A candy apple, reminds me of Halloween, when my friend went back to the same house twice, in different baseball jerseys to get additional apples. Or the roar of an engine and the looks my grandpa and I used to get pulling up alongside another car in his Ferrari converted from a Datsun. Good smells, good memories, good times.

Goals For 2011

I decided to put together a list of goals and accomplishments I hope to achieve over the course of the New Year. Some are easy and require little effort, while others are of a more challenging nature. I look forward to crossing them all out by the end of the year. Here's to a healthy, prosperous and awesome New Year!

- Continue weight training program; add muscle and cut fat.
- Cook more food, continue to eat healthy and minimize cheat meals.
- Run at least four, 5k races.
- Pass all classes while maintaining a GPA of 3.00 or higher.
- Get involved with at least one club, group or organization on campus.
- Attend campus events (i.e. sports, special events or other social functions)
- Determine a major focus and start thinking about possible career aspirations after graduation.
- Get a new cell phone.
- Date.
- Put any spare money aside for Europe 2012.
- Pay down debt in whatever way possible.
- Visit family at least twice.

The list seems short to me, so if more ideas come up, they will be added.

A New Direction

This fall, I transfered to UC Irvine as a history major. After spending what felt like an eternity in the community college system, I felt excited about taking on a new challenge at the next level. For a variety of different reasons however, I wasn't entirely prepared for transition from the semester system of a community college (16 weeks) to the quarter system of a UC (10 weeks). It seems as though they should have classes about transferring to a 4 year university that are mandatory instead of just being optional.

My first quarter hit me hard. I didn't take the time to entirely understand what was required of my major going in. All I wanted to do was get out of community college and finish the two years required for my bachelor's degree. But I hit a major roadblock as I was enrolling in my first classes. That roadblock of course, was the school's foreign language requirement, and in my case that meant Spanish. While I was working my way through community college, I was under the impression that all I needed was one foreign language course to satisfy the requirements of my new institution. (Looking back, I definitely should have clarified the requirements in advance) Needless to say I was shocked when UCI informed me that I needed to complete an additional 5 quarters (6 quarters is what's needed to graduate) of language. I had gotten through Spanish 1 with ease, but hadn't absorbed much in the process. Faced with the tall task of completing 5 quarters of foreign language, I enrolled in Spanish 1B, hoping I remembered enough of Spanish 1 to get me through. (Spanish 1 at the community college is equivalent to Spanish 1A at the UC). Sadly, I struggled from the outset. Between working 3-4 days a week, reading a great deal for my history courses and the rigors of learning a language, I realized a change was needed. I felt as though language just wasn't for me and I was beginning to realize that I didn't have a direction with my major either.

...A little background on why I chose to become a history major in the first place...

I had spent 6 years at community college and realized that it was time to start taking my education seriously. Having been undeclared for my entire college career thus far, I knew it was time to pick a major so that I could follow a path to transferring. History was the only class I had enjoyed and let's face it...I really loved historically fictional movies. This, I thought, was a no brainer. What I didn't know, was what I intended to use the major for after graduation. (The most common question I have been asked, "So, do you want to be a teacher?" My response, "I don't know.")

Flash back to about week 6 of the fall quarter at UCI. I realized that language just wasn't going to work for me. As I would read my Spanish book I kept thinking, "this looks so foreign to me!" (which of course, it is!). It's as though my brain just didn't want to cooperate. I had toyed with the idea of changing my major to political science since the first week of the quarter. I had actually met a student in one of my history classes who was also struggling with the language requirement and thinking about changing his major to political science as well. After several failed attempts at meeting with a counselor in the Social Sciences department, I finally secured a walk-in appointment. I explained my situation to the counselor and my desire to transfer to the political science major. My counselor quickly outlined the requirements for the political science major, reminded me that I was only 3 upper division classes away from a history minor and informed me that I would need 1 year of math, but no language to complete my degree. This was music to my ears (even though there was math involved, I found it to be the lesser of two evils). Having already switched to the grading option, "pass/no pass" during the second week of the quarter, I realized that I no longer needed to stress about passing Spanish and could now focus on doing well in my history courses. Two days later, I met with my Spanish professor and informed him I would not be returning to class and would be focusing on the remaining classes I needed to complete. (He was already aware of my situation and was understanding)

Sitting in the counselor's office, I felt as though things were starting to make sense. Something felt right, more focused about this decision to change my major. Coming in as a history major, I had no idea what path I wanted to take, or what avenues I could explore with it. I know that I've said that I was excited in the past, but now I feel as though I believe it even more. For the winter quarter I'm taking an introductory course on Law. I'm looking forward to taking a course on International Relations in the Spring. (Something I think could compliment my love for travel) The pieces to the puzzle may not yet be complete, but I'm happy with this new direction and I look forward to where it takes me.

Did you ever?

Did you ever have a dream that didn't come true?
Did you ever think you would be somewhere else in your life then where you are now?

That's where I am now. I know that sometimes I get in these so called "ruts" and I dig myself out and move on. But, even though I hate harping on the same things over and over again, it's reality. I'm 27, I live at home, I make minimum wage most nights, I've been single for three years running and I won't even get into some of the negative aspects that go along with that. My excitement over going to UCI and getting my education has been severely dampened this, my first quarter. I'm terrible at Spanish, lost in Monsters and Borders and loving Colonial America. The more troubling aspect is not the lack of understanding certain classes, but the fact that I'm seriously disappointed in my effort level this quarter. I'll admit, the transition has been a tough one (see my previous blog entry) but part of me still acts like this is community college. You know, where you can ease into the sixteen week semester, skip reading assignments and still get A's on everything. I feel about as smart as I did in high school now. Everything about this quarter feels like community college. I go to school, I go home. I don't have the time to get involved in school activities or they seem to fall on days where I have to work. In fact the only thing not like community college at this point are my grades. I was so proud of the fact that I hadn't skipped out on any classes for two solid years, while I worked to get myself up and out of the hole I had dug myself into when I began community college. Now, this quarter, I've thrown it all away. I've missed classes, recently due to illness (which I hate) and also because I'm just so frustrated with everything.

Most people have a plan, right? They have a general idea (salute) of what they want to do with their lives. And even if they don't, they fake it and do something productive to pass the time and pay the bills. I remember in high school, people always assured me that I was young and that I had plenty of time to figure out what I was going to make of my life. Granted, I'm not old by any stretch of the imagination, but I'm also not a young kid anymore. I have to figure this out now and look at the bigger picture. I can't make minimum wage for the rest of my life or I will never reach any of the goals or dreams that I had when I was a little kid. The other day, a friend pointed out to me, as we discussed where are lives were currently at, "welcome to life, it's not always where you thought it might be". I guess that's the adventure...figuring out what you can do as an individual to get yourself to where you want to be.

Maybe I'll never be famous (some might argue, I'm more likely to be infamous, thanks friends). In sixth grade, I wanted to be an NBA player. Then reality set in. I'm a shade under six feet tall, Caucasian and not very skilled. Time to form a new plan. Time to actually put the work in to get where I want to be. I had this crazy idea that I could watch as much TV as I wanted, continue to do things the same way I always did and I would magically be able to succeed in school and life. Funny thing is, that's not working. Things aren't going to get accomplished for me, are they? I know that I can't be a hermit crab like one of my friends and completely seclude myself for two years and drop off the grid. But I also know I can't continue going the way I'm going. It's simply not going to work. I'm the only one who can change my outcome and win, lose or draw, it's about time I start trying.

Happy 11th Birthday Angel

When I brought you home eleven years ago I'll admit that I thought you loved Sonja more than me. And aside from me, you've spent the majority of your life surrounded by three women. You were calm and quiet at the pet store and I was convinced that you were the mellow one compared to that rambunctious golden retriever. In the beginning, I was just a teenager that wanted a dog, but didn't understand the responsibility that went into having one. Yet, you were always a great dog and it's my fault you were never trained to maximize your full Labrador potential. But you've never ceased to be awesome after all these years and you've continuously stayed energetic even after a few scary moments with the seizures. I love you very much and I hope that these last several years I've done a better job as an owner to you. Happy Birthday Angel, let's go for a walk!

Frustrations

I'll admit, I never assumed that the move from junior college to the university was going to be an easy one. Yet, I think I was equally unprepared for what I've encountered so far. At this point, I'm 5 weeks in to the quarter (just over halfway through) and here's where I stand: floundering completely in one class, treading water in another and doing reasonably well in the final class (pending a midterm exam next week). Now, I know that a great deal of the challenges I'm experiencing tie in to my love for other things more than I love school. And I hate being in this position, even if it is self induced. I hate failing or not doing my best in any situation. But after the past the past two years at junior college, I stopped looking at myself as a person who just wasn't the right fit for school and started believing that I was capable of success. Five weeks into the quarter here and I almost feel as though I've completed a 180. I'm struggling with a foreign language and even with a history class that feels like it's being taught in another language. Is it just the case of a rough semester and a rough transition period? Am I in over my head? Or can I adjust and pull another rabbit out of the hat in the next four weeks? I guess it all remains to be seen.

Cloudy Days

Cloudy days remind me: of pea-coats, the 7C bus in Oxford, punting, early mornings at the airport, getting lost in Dublin, Paris, Amsterdam, quiet bus rides in Wales, field trips to London, Sandra's hangover curing packed lunches, snooker, neighborhood pub game nights, friends.

Nostalgia

I'm almost constantly affected by nostalgia, specifically from my European adventure in '09. At times I feel as though I talk about it too much and that maybe I should tone it down a bit. Other moments, it's as if I don't keep it at the forefront of my memory it will disappear completely. I take an immense amount of joy in reminiscing over such an important part of my life. The trip took a lot of effort, an unbelievable amount of money but also paid off more than I can ever imagine.

For me, nostalgia comes in different forms and from different places. Over the past weekend I ran into my Oxford classmate Jade at Dave and Busters in Irvine. I remember reading that she was going to be in town, but completely forgot that it was going to be this past weekend. My mind immediately flashed back to steak dinners in London, late nights in York and incredibly long bus rides. I couldn't have been more excited. Just yesterday, I turned on the television as I was getting ready for work and eating lunch. I thoroughly enjoy Samantha Brown (she has the best job in the world) and she happened to be visiting the English countryside, beginning in Bath. Immediately I was transported back to my brief time in Bath. As I watched her sample the spring water (which is hot) I knew her reaction would be the same as mine (it tastes awful!)

On a walk today, I realized that for new good reason I had been postponing writing a letter to my home-stay mom from Oxford. I know that I've been busy but things will only get busier when school starts next week and I know how much I want to keep in touch. I realize that sometimes, just the little things, make the memory burn so bright.

And although I plan to return to Europe after I graduate from UC Irvine in two years, I know that the new memories I make there will never compare to ones I made as a member of Saddleback's '09 Oxford class. No matter what, I will always miss and remember fondly the time I shared with every person from that trip.

An Ode to a Disappearing Generation

Working in the hospitality industry, I have had the fortune and misfortune of coming across a wide variety of people. Often times, we have no idea what goes on in a person's life. Are they rich or poor? Happy or sad? And today, when they enter our place of business, what has brought them to us and why are they in an agreeable or disagreeable mood? Each day, in different ways, we all strive to connect with our guests to make their time spent away from home a more enjoyable one.

As a bellman, we have the opportunity to engage in short conversations with our guests. How was your day? What's the weather like back home? What brings you to our hotel? Any plans for your stay? Yet after all the pleasantries pass, the guest judges us based on our level of service and we judge them on the amount of their tip. Though it may seem superficial, the reality is that as bellman, we live off of the tips we earn and we work hard to achieve them. A former bellman once showed me a web page entitled, "The Original Tipping Page" with an article on how to "correctly tip a bellman." After showing the page to several of my cohorts, we each agreed that it was for all intensive purposes, accurate. But who best represents this model? My generation? My parents generation? My grandparents generation?

This year and more specifically, this past week, I have come into contact with several members of the "older" generation. These are the people whom we call "grandpa" and "grandma". Most times, they are set in their ways and can be hard to reason with. But they also can tell some pretty fantastic stories and they understand the value of hard work. More importantly though, they understand the value of paying for hard work. I'm the first to admit that I love when the "older" generation comes in to my hotel. I don't have to fight them for bell carts (like I do with the 30 somethings and their soccer groups) and I don't have to worry about getting quarters or a $1 bill. This is the generation the consistently gives $5s, $10s and for the fortunate few, the coveted $20s. They are appreciative and understanding and never in a hurry. In short, they are the perfect guests. The kind everyone fights over, wants to assist and will go out of their way for.

But as this generation disappears and our parents become the new grandparents and we start to become parents...will this understanding and appreciation of the hard working bellman still exist? Or will we be overrun with families pushing us out of the way to take our carts, load their own luggage and save a few bucks? My advice? Follow the lead of the "older" generation. Shell out a few bucks, sit back and relax and let the professionals do their job. =)

Anatomy of a Rivalry

Rivalries, particularly in sports, are typically a hotly contested, deeply passionate and long standing conflict between two or more teams (and often, their fans). Baseball has its rivalries in the Yankees and Red Sox and the Giants and Dodgers. While in basketball we have the Lakers and the Celtics. But what fuels a rivalry? Are we just born with a competitive fire or is it accumulated through our experiences and those around us?

I grew up watching the Lakers and sadly, the Dodgers. I can vividly recall sitting in the den at my grandparent's house in Pasadena while the Lakers played and Chick Hearn announced the games. To say that I was born a Lakers fan would not be far from the truth. However, being raised by a single mom, who is far from the avid sports enthusiast, I developed a competitive nature on my own. I always want to win, no matter what my role is in the sport I'm playing or the sport I'm watching. Though it is perhaps unreasonable to expect your team to win each year, how can we as sports fans think any other way? How can we not demand excellence? I simply despise losing and I sometimes wonder how highly paid athletes seem to accept and tolerate mediocrity. When someone beats me, I challenge myself to take my effort up to the next level and if I'm going to lose, they are going to work for it.

Perhaps there are more eloquent ways to describe it, but without a great deal of sugarcoating, I simply dislike certain teams. That's what a rivalry is all about, passion. So to the Boston Celtics, Boston Red Sox, San Diego Chargers, Los Angels Dodgers, New England Patriots, Oakland Raiders, Phoenix Suns, Sacramento Kings, San Antonio Spurs and Denver Broncos I don't like you, never have and never will. Rivalries never die!

Wedding Season

Over the weekend, I attended what I anticipate, as being the first of four weddings this year. A beautifully set wedding in sunny Huntington Beach, at a temperature most conducive to an enjoyable ceremony. While I watched the happy couple move forward to the next stage of their lives, I couldn't help but reflect on my own life and the goals I had once set.

Many years ago, I had envisioned myself being married at twenty-seven and looked forward to the prospect of children. For some reason, twenty-seven seemed like a reasonable age to get married. Not too young and not too old, it appeared to be the perfect time. However as a child, I had no way of understanding the self inflicted barriers I would place upon myself. I spent the early part of my twenties in a long relationship and my friends always believed that I would be the first of our group to be married. Certainly, I would be the last person to refute those claims. But as my relationship began to fall apart, I sought to refocus my life on education. I planned to ensure that when I did find the right person, I would have a future to look forward to.

For the first time in my life, I find myself as the best man at my best friend's wedding. This is an exciting and challenging new role for me and I am honored to have been chosen for the role. It is my hope that this experience is a memorable one and that I too, can be fortunate enough to follow down that same path. And although I'm not the first in our group of friends to tie the knot, I couldn't be happier for my friend.

Last night I watched a movie entitled, The Holiday with Kate Winslet and Cameron Diaz for probably the fourth or fifth time. Though it's fairly predictable I love the film for two reasons. First, at least half of the movie is set in a small English town (after visiting England, I have a soft spot for the country). Second, there is a great scene in the movie where Cameron Diaz visits Jude Law's home, discovers he's a single dad and meets his two daughters. For anyone who has yet seen, I will say that these are perhaps the cutest little girls ever. Having always wanted at least one daughter, this movie coupled with a strong dose of wedding season, has reignited my passion to find that special someone and build towards taking my own next step.

A Boy and His Bike

These days it seems like everyone is trying to "go green" in some aspect of their life. From organic food, to recycling there are a variety of ways in which one can achieve this. However, one of the more exciting ways I have found to add more "green" to my life is through bicycling. Although it was not my initial intention to be green when I first purchased my Trek mountain bike, the desire to exercise was. I chose the Trek brand because of its well known name in the cycling world and my desire to have something a bit sturdier than my childhood Huffy. Though it had been many years since I had been on the saddle of a bicycle, I was pleasantly surprised at how easy it all came back. With a little time and perseverance, anything is possible.

To date, my bike has been nothing short of exceptional, though I have not consistently taken it off road to fill its true potential. For a mountain bike it has performed remarkably well on the streets where I spend most of my riding time. Together we've journeyed through Peter's Canyon, Weir Canyon, Newport Beach, Balboa Island and our most recent trip to Laguna Beach. On a bike I feel as though I am able to experience so much more of the nature and beautiful scenery that Orange County has to offer. Something I certainly never fully appreciated before my second time owning a bicycle. Throw in the fact that I always ride with a good friend or two and it makes the experience all the more worthwhile. I know that I won't always have the freedom to take a bike ride on a Monday during the day, but there's something rather fantastic about it and I intend to enjoy every opportunity.