Godamnit it, I hate UCLA.

Is it so damned hard to get in contact with a human being? I do NOT want to send another e-mail only to never receive a response. I do NOT want to leave another message only to never get a call back. I do NOT want to be fucked over the rest of my four years and have to switch majors just because I'm one stupid unit over the maximum.

One. One unit.

I got a call from my prospective Comparative Politics professor today. He's frustrated that I clearly have not followed the instructions he sent in the e-mail a month ago about making sure there was enough space to get added into the class. After explaining how I've been trying to contact counseling for the last two months actually, here's how the conversation went.

"Well, maybe you should go pay them a visit."
"Professor, I live 300 miles away."
"..."
"Um."
"Well. Get it fixed. Or I'll drop you. -click-"

Guh.

major decisions

I've gotten so much done in the last week without my laptop. I've managed to Ace everything in all my classes.

Now if only I could get up off my fatass and work out. I no longer fit Size 28s. :(

---

Let's put a little more substance into this entry.

So right now, I'm pretty undeclared major-wise. I mean, I'm not completely undeclared in that I at least know which realm of academia I'll end up pursuing and I'm not officially undeclared in that my transcript currently says "undeclared". Rather, the classes I'm taking or have taken aren't exactly going toward any particular major.

All of this confusion is a result of UCLA's closing of their Int'l Development Studies Department. Now, I understand that they want to "restructure" the department and remove a bit of its interdisciplinary aspect, but I honestly don't think it's coming back. Not in my tenure here, anyway. It's just another way for the school to respond to the economic troubles. There are two necessary components to declare the Int'l Development Studies Major:

1. You entered UCLA Fall 2009 or prior under the Int'l Development Studies Major
2. You have completed up to Level 3 of a Foreign Lang as well as all other prereqs by the end of Fall 09 (2.0 min).
   

I don't fulfill number 1 and I've fulfilled halfway number 2. I started out as an Int'l Economics major (note: this is very much so different from the Int'l Development Studies Major) but decided to no longer pursue it because of my terrible performance in Calculus and Microeconomics. Officially, I'm still an Int'l Econ Major but I'm not intending to pursue it.

I need two more classes to be able to declare Int'l Development Studies -- two of the more impacted classes at UCLA. Example: I tried to sign up for one of them this quarter, but all 300 spots and all 75 waitlist spots filled up within four hours. Ridiculous. So I'm at a crux here: what if I don't get into these classes? What the hell do I do with my life?

Here are some of the choices I've been thinking about, given the classes I've already taken and the things I at least have a small interest in:

• Comparative Literature - Taking my first Com Lit class this quarter. I seem to have a talent with it. It's just the whole fluency in three languages thing that is kinda scaring me off. I mean, I can do English well, and I'm getting somewhere with French, but taking up another language is a little scary.
  
• Global Studies - I really don't know why I'm not just a Global Studies major in the first place. I need one more class to declare for this. I guess it's the whole required Summer Abroad thing I don't like.
  
• Geography - I'd love to do this. The only problem is that I'd have to petition for all my courses to count toward it. If I could do that, I could declare today if I wanted to.
  
• English/World Literature - Intimidating. Plus, I hate Brit lit.
  
• French - Only because I have a lot of French classes under my belt incidentally.
  

It's just a little frustrating that something you've invested so much time in has been taken away just like that. Bah.

Revival

Caught up in style and order
you lose substance.

Tear the shirt off my back,
throw the jeans into the the dirt,
blow my every shame away
with every windy graze
between my thighs
my skin
my fingertips
my eyes,
and run.


Surrender the pen to the soul
and leave your hands free
to touch
to feel
to hold,
but not to craft.

day 30

Playing with the macro function at Union Station.

The leaves will fall. The tides will change. The sun will rise and the sun will set. Those are things you can believe in.

:(

I haven't been taking any pictures of anything here lately. I haven't had the motivation to take out my camera to do so.

I am having fun and there are things worth remembering, but it's hard with this hole in my heart. I have too much free time and in any instant that I find myself with an idle mind, there is a deep pang that shoots into my veins and right down into my stomach because I remember that you aren't there. You're so far away from me now; even though we talk as much as we can, everything I see reminds me how much I'd rather be with you.

I feel like a fool.

I saw a whale on the polo pocket of a stranger. There was a drawing of a dinosaur on the whiteboard of a friend's apartment I visited; there were stuffed dinosaurs in the UCLA store. A friend posted a video on his girlfriend's wall to show her his dorm. Someone named Brian shook my hand today. People are holding hands. A plane flew by. The evening star is the first star I see and I'm comforted in the fact that it's the same one you see and I'm reminded we're still on the same planet.

Even though it always feels like a light-year and more.

So I need to make myself a check list of things to remember to remind me that we're still on the same planet when the smog is covering up the stars and the tears are welling up.

• I need to remember to take only half the amount of food I normally take because you aren't there to finish the rest.
• I need to remember to not skip my meal swipes because I'd want to save them in the hopes that you'd come to visit.
• I need to remember that all fraternities have agendas and I shouldn't rush simply because I want someone to cry to.
• I need to remember that I am not a broken record and my only lyrics cannot be sad.
• I need to remember to tell myself why I'm in college: to learn, to grow.
  
• I need to remember that I cannot want to transfer to another college simply because of the distance.
  
• I need to remember to get involved and not fear I'll miss your call.
• I need to remember to not prolong our calls to the point that I struggle to come up with topics, only because I want to hear your voice even if its getting frustrated with me.
• I need to remember who I am.
• I need to remember that you love me and wouldn't jeopardize that.

Every morning I wrestle my soul and body.

But I'm losing because I feel incomplete.

Day 29

This being the last week in San Jose, I've been trying to milk it as much as possible; that is, I've been with Brian approximately 10 hours of the day, everyday. While a good portion of our togetherness is spent cuddling in bed, we sometimes go out to see the sunlight.

Today, for example, we went out to a bunch of plazas in search of a pair of dress shoes and sandals for Brian's college needs. Looking for sandals shouldn't be hard...unless you're trying to find non-thong sandals. We traveled to three different plazas in search of sandals and eventually found some at Sports Authority for a whopping twenty bucks. Ridiculous, in my opinion, but they were Nike. Sure.

Anyway, in the plaza where Sports Authority lay, we found a little Fish n' Chips shop. Much fish-and-chip consumption thereby occurred.

Well, I actually got a chicken sandwich and Brian got a fish sandwich. Pictured to the side is my chicken sandwich, with the fries smothered in tartar and ketchup (I like my disgusting condiments; in fact, I feel most foods are simply vehicles to deliver condiments).

Later on, with full bellies and the daunting prospect of dinner ahead (steak, sausage, and fries...damn, should have skipped the fish and chips), we passed by a new Nob Hill on Santa Teresa. For the past month that its been ready, we told ourselves that we'd visit but we'd remember just as we passed by. This is the first time we actually followed through. Cross that off the list and all we've got left to do to complete the Gay Agenda is to convince the world that Crocs are a blasphemy. Yes, the world is clearly ours. Surrender your tube socks!

We bought some ice cream: Ben & Jerry's Fossil Fuel. I bought it for the Dino-bits. It's still sitting in Brian's freezer, untouched.

Day 14 - Day 28

After this post, I should be caught up. Enjoy September! I know I sure have.

Day 014



Park by Brian's. It was only about 7, but it was already getting dark. We go here often because of the lush greenery, though you can barely see it here. It truly is a Suburban paradise.

Day 015



It's amazing what the human body can accomplish. I managed to catch this while Brian was at full air.


Day 016



Brian wanted to take some *~serious~* photos to make an X-files poster for his dorm room. We ended up taking over 40 pictures because of my crappy photography skills.

Day 017




That's me in the photo. Brian wanted to take some photos with a spooky/supernatural feeling to them. This is the result.

Day 018



On the way to Stockton, we came across beautiful hills and windmills. I had to resist the urge to run out of the 4runner and roll down the hills. It didn't help that we were in intense traffic.

Day 019



After a three hour drive, we arrived at Caswell, our campsite. It wasn't bad...after it got dark. During the day, there was absolutely no shade and the bugs were relentless. The plus side was that our site was right across the bathroom.

Although, that just meant we were disturbed by flashlights during the night as piss-ridden campers stumbled their ways here.

Day 020



The fire took forever to ignite. Three paper plates, three logs, and seven pieces of kindling was sacrificed in the quest to sustain a fire.

Day 021



Poor lizard. It was caught by Huy. He tried to feed it a piece of shrimp but it only stared at it. That's probably because it was half the size of the creature.

Day 022



Eastridge, flagship mall of East Side, and one of the more ghetto malls in San Jose. A year of working at the Hollister here has left me unwilling to come back. Ever.

Day 023



Peter and Brian sitting outside Barnes & Noble. We were celebrating our ninth monthiversary at Red Robin's. Why celebrate? One month = one year in gay time. So Brian and I have been together longer than most celebrity marriages. Fo reals.

Day 024



Blossom Hill Crossroads. They ended up buying none of the clothes we bought in. Nothing from the four bags we brought in. NOTHING.

Day 025



We found this lovely corner of a kitchen at Home Depot and decided to claim it.

Day 026



El Amigo was a lovely colorful surprise in the middle of an otherwise dilapidated plaza.

Day 027



Brian and I made some croque-madames (grilled ham & cheese sandwiches with a fried egg on top.) They were as delicious as they looked. In other words, they were godly.

Day 028



First time going to Fuz (gay event) at the Abyss. It was pretty awesome: we met up with a bunch of friends, danced for four hours straight, suffered dehydration and sore backs, but most of all, we met these crazy ass drag queens. Or I don't know what to categorize them. I just know I wouldn't want to run into them in a dark alley, lest my unfashionable self be torn to shreds by their fierce, five-inch fingernails.