The wild weekend that was I haven't had a weekend this crazy in a minute. The fact that I actually survived to blog about it is a feat in and of itself. It's going to be hard for mere words to capture the essence of what went down, but I'll do my best…It started on Thursday, when me a couple buddies stayed up all night trying to finish this problem set. We're some dumbasses. Although you're supposed to spend 10 to 12 hours on the sets, I don't think you're supposed to spend it in a continuous block - one which ends at the hour the assignments due no less. At anyrate, this setup for the Friday evening "we going out?" call. My man had been trying to get me out all week, but being a student isn't the most condusive life for weekday freetime (actually any freetime for that matter, but that's arguable), so we'd been postponing the festivities for the weekend, and it was here. We head out to Hollywood, to some random spot (not actually random, but as you'll see throughout this post, names have managed to ellude me). The sign on the door said something like, "a-list only," but somehow that wasn't refering to us. Right after the bouncer said no, the owner looked at us and said, "they look like nice guys, let 'em in." And so it was. It was a small place, a very chill type spot. And it wasn't over-crowded either, which was nice. As it was our first spot, we maintained focus: finding our place at the bar. One of the disadvantages of a place like this is that people don't really mingle; it's more of a place to meet, so people already know someone before they get there. This is offset by the fact that there are no ugly people in the entire joint. It got to the point where we were actually on the lookout for an ungly person - a mission that proved futile. Definately an "LA" spot. After we had a few drinks in us, it was time to move on. We walked around the corner to another place that was more a club type place. My man pulled an ill move getting us in: he found these two random chicks at the front of the line and told the bouncer we were together and slipped him a few bucks - worked like a charm. The chicks were rather upity, and weren't really down for it, but it all happened so fast they couldn't really object. The funny part was when we went in (to were they check ID and you actually pay), one of them looked at us and said, "I forgot my wallet." (Neither me, nor my friend, is a fool, so there's no need to even talk about how that one ended.) We got in, and the place was in its peak. We took a few observation laps, and finally stumbled upon one of the bars. We start talking to random people and blah blah blah when I find myself sitting on a couch talking to chick. I think what (had) happened was my man found some girl he liked and was talking to her. I started to get tired and just wanted to sit down and some girl happened to be there, so we started talking. Turns out it was perfect: shorty was engaged, for real bouts to get married, and her single friend had dragged her out for the night. While I'm not bouts to get married, and my man didn't really drag me out, our situation wasn't quite the exact mirror of theirs, but it was pretty damn close; as a wingman it doesn't get much better than this. We hung out with them for the rest of the night, shit was real peace, and even grabbed something to eat afterward. I don't think anything panned out with her friend and mine, but all I can do is bring music to the horse, I can't make it dance. I get home about 4:30ish, which only became painful when I had to get up the next morning for basketball. I somehow managed to get up and down the court for a few hours, but I don't think it was the prettiest performance of my career. I learned that morning that Caltech had a game that night, thus, my evening was already starting to take shape. I finished some stuff up for most of the afternoon before showing up. Me and a few other friends have made it our duty to be roudiest fans in the county. That night was no exception (it was, in fact, "exceptional"). A few of the guys showed up drunk, which was entertainment in and of itself, but this night was truly remarkable because of the way were able to get into the heads of the players (the opposing team of course). We yell directly at players, using their government names, along with various other obscenities. We'll often choose one player in particular (totally at random) to really pick on; seems to bring down the team moral a bit. We had the opposition so frustrated, that they cursed back at us. They even threw the ball at us at one point. It was incredible. Rumour had it that one of the players, after fouling out, left the gym and kicked a hole it the wall! It was beautful. Although Caltech lost, I feel like it was a win for the fans. But back to the real action. It just so happened that my mans from the previous night was there, so as soon as the final buzzer sounded, we realised it was time to get it crackin. We first stopped over to this wine bar where a friend of his works so loosen up. I like the spot a lot, very chill, we've had good times there. I think this is due to the fact that I can, in the same place, do two things I really enjoy: eating and drinking wine. Simple, I know, but there aren't a lot of spots like this. The plan for the night was to hit up some club were a friend of his was bartending. The place was in "Maywood," which neither one of us had heard of; typical and almost expected for me, but for a true seasoned vet like my man, a very unusual situation. Although we stayed in LA county, we went through some real random spots to get there. I mean, we passed some docks, went through a train yard, passed some warehouses and a truck yard… and there it was, in the middle of nowhere, [this is the part where you insert the name, but of course, I forgot. If it means anything, I don't think I ever really knew the name of the spot]. From the outside, it seemed like a real ghetto crowd, quite the opposite from the night before, but we were feelin' the change of pace. From the moment we walked up the joint, I knew it was going to be a special night. Because "our" friend was bartending, we didn't wait in line. Instead we were escorted through the back by the owner. It was some real pimp shit. Instead of using the front door, he opens this metal gate off to the side and tells the bouncers, "these guys are with me." We got through this damp, dimly lit alley to the back of the building. It was really like out of a movie, where kats go to do some real illegal type shit. When we turn the corner, we walk up these metal stairs to a door being guarded by this dude with a CIA ear piece. We get to the door and the owner says, "you fellas enjoy yourself." At which point the CIA dude opened the door. Me and my man found ourselves at the top of some stairs looking down at a sea of people, many looking back up at us like "who the fcuk are there guys?!?!" Nice :) As usual, we made a b-line for the bar, but this time moreso to say hey to his friend. She started mixing a couple Hulks. I started to think, "damn, there are some real thugs in this beast tonight," but then she gave them to us! I didn't really know what to do with myself. It's been a while since I've savoured the hulk - since my days in the ROC actually - and here this girl was mixing it up without request. That's whassup. (It actually took me a second to get my mind right after that episode.) We took our customary observation lap, to which we were quite impressed. The place had this voyuer theme: there was a room on the first floor where these two chicks in scantely clad made out while being video taped; there were various plasmas throughout the club that played the action. Very nice touch :) There was quite a bit of eye candy in there as well, and I realised my job as wing man was going to need to not only begin soo, but be in top notch working order. But first, we had to relocate our bartender, I needed another hulk :) Start dancing left and right, not sure what was going on really. Start meeting random people, again, not quite sure what the hell was going on, but good times seemed to be had by all. Single handedly started up after party. Home around 5ish. Calls up next morning asking me to recap the night, as his sidekick has like 20 new numbers whom he can't put a face with. Hate to toote my own horn, but aye… :) Think weekend is over, trying to get some work done, when I get the call once more. It's Sunday night for crying out loud, and I'm going out again! Crazy. What really sparked it was the fact that he'd called some chicks we met last night and threw out the idea of keeping the party going. I think he wanted me there to continue with the wingman effect. We also added our boy into the mix, to help distribute the wealth; not only that, but he had the hookup on getting us in. Although it wasn't the grand entrance of the night before, it got the job done. The place was packed. For ladies, it seemed breast implants were a requirement for entrance (shit was crazy, I've never seen anything like it). The dance floor was like out of a video - not much you can do, and you're saying excuse me like every two seconds. Yea, that shit was crazy. Haven't had a stretch like that since I lived in the ROC.
Like night and day I was in New Jersey this weekend visiting my girlfriend. When I left on Thursday I took a public shuttle with a few other travelers. We went around saying where each of us was headed - one lady to Florida (to board a Caribbean cruise), another to Santa Barbara (apparently, getting there by car was difficult with all the rain), and another to Hawaii (she was from there originally, so she was merely going home). I was last, answering, "New Jersey," to which everyone in the van (even the driver) let out a groan. I think theyknew immediately how much I liked this girl :)My sister happened to be in the city this past weekend too, so we dropped in to see her. Also, My girlfriend's mom happened to cook a couple times; her food alone is worth the price of the plane ticket. This past weekend also happened to be the the coldest time of the year on the east coast. As was the case with my recent trip home, very seldom did the temperature get above freezing; and the wind chill was no punk. On the contrary, LA experienced one of its best weekends in months, with temps in the 70's and 80's. Traveling between temperature extremes is no easy task. What usually ends up happening is I'm ill prepared for the colder environment, and way over dressed for the warmer. Just last night I had to borrow a coat and hoodie from my girlfriend to go out, yet when I stepped off the plane this morning I had to peel off two layers and find a place for my jacket. It's all good though, as I've said before, a little cold keeps me grounded.
It's finally over The sun actually woke me up this morning, something that hasn't happened in a while. Partly because we haven't seen the sun around here, and partly because this was the first morning in a while I didn't use my alarm clock to wake up. The power went out again last night while I was sleeping, messing up the clocks and allowing me to get two more hours of sleep than I normally get :)The rain didn't leave without saying goodbye. My tub was full of this foul smelling black stuff which appeared to have come up from the drain. And my roomate informed me that not only wouldn't his shower drain, but his toilet was overflowing as well. Other than that though, I think we're good… err, I should say, back to no heat being our only problem.
More stoppin' for gas I got to talking to this guy today who was in town visiting from Boston. I asked him how his flight went and he mentioned they had to stop and get gas. I'm thinking, whoa, what are the odds! We spoke about the matter for a while and he offered a very goot specilation to what was going on. As he was saying, during busy airport times, such as might be induced because of inclement weather, it's possible that planes may need to go into a holding pattern before landing. In preparation for the worst, he was guessing that planes stocked up on fuel before they got to LAX just in case they were unable to land for an extended period of time. This sounds to me like a pretty good story; not so conspiracy-esque as my homeland security/terrorist speculations.
It gets worse If not having heat was bad enough, my roommate called me this afternoon to inform me that our electricity went out. To add to the irony, I received the "nothing works in our apartment including the refrigerator" call as I was waiting for my ride to the grocery store.This rain is really making its presence felt. Just about every building I go into there's a bucket or two at random spots on the floor collecting leaky roof water. And it's become too much for the side walks and streets too as puddles are everywhere. It's obvious that this place wasn't designed for this much water: there are entire sections of sidewalks under water. Being that I walk everywhere and do so mostly at night, I've learned about more than a few of these puddles the hard way :/ What really astonishes me is the fact that I've been through some pretty bad winters - tons of snow, sub-zero temperatures, freezing rain, yada yada - but not one of them has effected me as much as this Los Angeles one has. Let me stop bitchin' though, at least there's no mud sliding into our apartment, and our street is still usable (more than you can say for some parts of the city). And my problems pale in comparison to the tsunami victims. I think I speak for all of us though when I say I'll be glad when it's over.
BET My feelings exactly (archived).
The rain cometh! It's been raining like crazy around here. It started Thursday night, and hasn't stopped yet. My street looks like a river, with water coming above the curve as it raced toward the storm drain. It's really frustrating because wherever you go, you're going to get soaked - car or not. But, and I know first hand, especially if you don't have a car! The weather has severely limited where I can and can't go. Normally, I walk to the grocery store and to the gym, but that ain't happening in this weather. I hope it stops quick, cause I'm running out of groceries! The weather people are saying it should stop Tuesday morning, but it doesn't seem like there's any end in sight. I'm almost ready to build an ark.Oh, and to put a little icing on the cake, our heat broke again. I have no idea what the problem is this time. I suspect rain during the Christmas break put out the pilot light (if that's possible). Unfortunately the gas company can't fix it either because their workers are not allowed to go on the roof when it's raining.
Not so good Spirits I flew back out yesterday, returning from Christmas vacation. I thought it'd be a routine flight - DTW to LAX, taking 4 real hours, but only two on paper. We were supposed to leave at 9am, which would get me back to LA at 11am and allow me to attend my noon Spanish class. But since when does flying go as planned?I arrived at DTW a little after 8, which I thought was incredibly late given that TSA security lines are miles long these days, often requiring 15 or 20 minutes to get through. I had planned to get to the airport a little earlier than this, but it took my ride (also known as my sister) a while to wake up :) To my surprise, however, I got my ticket, secured an exit row, and made it to the gate in under 3 minutes! At DTW, Spirit has it's own security line, so there's no mixing with other airlines thereby creating long lines. It seemed, finally, airlines are starting to figure this flying thing out. Sure enough, however, I'd spoken too soon. As we stood around waiting for crew to get the plane ready for boarding (this after standing around for like a half hour waiting for the plane to actually arrive), we got the announcement: "due to weight issues, we're going to stop in Las Vegas to re-fuel." "Re-fuel," did I hear them correctly, "re-fuel"?!?! In the past few years I've flown a fair amount. Had luggage lost and damaged, flights delayed and canceled, experienced sketchy landings and over worked crew members, but never re-fueling. I realize on some routes, re-fueling is necessary, but I was under the impression that it took somewhere around 20+ hours in the sky before it happened, not 4. And I've heard of airplanes having to be weight conscious, but I didn't think the larger aircraft had to worry about that. I stand corrected. The lady at the gate said the re-fueling would cost us about 20 minutes - yea right! When I finally got on the plane it was a little after 10. It was another few minutes before we actually pushed back, making our take off time about an hour and half later than it was supposed to be. Ouch. Vegas or not, making that noon class was going to be impossible now. My 3:00 still had a chance though. As we approached 30,000 feet, the pilot gave his customary flight welcome/update. He took the opportunity to give us a more accurate guestimate of our Vegas stop: 40 minutes. I wasn't surprised, 20 minutes felt a bit too optimistic. With the exit row at my feet, I managed to spread out and get some rest. When we got to Vegas, they got right to business, heading straight for the gate starting the gas up. It was about noon at this point, the time my ride was supposed to pick me up from LAX. Fortunately the guy sitting next to me let me borrow his phone so I could relay the news. Unfortunately, however, noon was the only time he could get me, so I'd have to fend for myself getting back to Pasadena. While gassing, they didn't let us off the plane, which, in a group this large could have easily added another day onto the trip. And the pilot was right, 40 minutes later they were ready to go. However, there was some runway traffic we had to fight through, adding about 15 minutes onto the Vegas visit. The flight from Vegas to LA isn't that long. It was one of those, "we're now at 30,000 feet, flight attendants, prepare for landing." When we touched down it seemed like it took forever to get to the gate. We got off the plane a little after 2, but it was another hour before my bag came out of the gate. That's right, instead being out of there at 11am, I was out of there at 3pm. And I wasn't even out yet, I was faced with the "make sure you have your bag" line. Before you could leave the airport, you had to prove to some airport security person that the bag you just pulled off the conveyer belt was yours! I'd had enough. I walked to the exit of the next terminal (where they weren't checking bag/ID's for some reason) and walked out. Since it was now 3, I knew spending a lot of money to get back to Pasadena was futile. I decided to take the train home, a tried and true method. Unfortunately, it's a 2 hour journey (in retrospect, even if I had taken a shuttle back it would have probably taken in upwards of an hour being that we'd be smack-dab in the middle of rush hour traffic). So, what was supposed to be a smooth Monday turned into anything but.
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