migblog

school is much more fun this time around.

it's my first fall semester as a regular cal student (last fall, i was in the extension program and took fall classes that counted towards the berkeley requirements) ever, so it'll definitely be an experience trying to handle a seventeen-unit class load along with the editor position and cal band. it's not definitely easier than last fall: this time, i have full fridays, and i'm practically taking nineteen units since i'm auditing wind ensemble.

professor and gsi evaluations are as follows:

portuguese one-oh-two. prof. donovan teaches this class, and much like the rest of the portuguese half of the spanish-portuguese department, she's very cool and relaxed. i like the pace that the class is going, and the way she teaches makes you feel comfortable speaking and reading portuguese.

spanish one-oh-two a. prof. gonzalez-reimann teaches this class, and so far, i like how he introduces things very nonchalantly into whatever it is we're talking about. he has this elegant way of inserting random tangents into pertinent conversation.

computer science sixty-one a. two professors teach this class: prof. hilfinger, the seemingly outrageously outgoing one, and prof. clancy, whom heretofore i shall refer to as "mousy." the two are a bit like laurel and hardy, only in a computer nerd sort of context. imagine an episode of abbott and costello without the gags, but with personality clashes and no students laughing just yet. and as for my gsi, i have colin dewey who used to be in the cal band. go figure, my gsi is the guy who used to go out with patty who's really good friends with jon. heh. it's like six degrees of kevin bacon.

cognitive science c1. okay, so i'm not officially in the class yet, but prof. kronfeld already said something that i would like to hold forever true: that the unification of ideas fosters cooperation and not competition, so help each other out and don't be pricks about someone else's success. the fallout was pretty bad, he had said, speaking from personal experience. plus he's got a cool german accent that rivals ah-nuld's. i've yet to get a gsi for the class (i need to get in first!), so here goes campbell again.

spanish one-sixty-one. prof. flores, this woman from spain, teaches this phonetics class. she's got an amazing southern spaniard accent (she eats her s's and says pla-tha instead of plasa when she reads the word plaza). it's very cool; i already like the stuff we're talking about because it reminds me a lot of the course material we covered in my freshman seminar last spring with prof. azevedo, with dialect and speech representation in the spanish language.

then there's the cal band and hardboiled, both passions that i cannot drop myself. the cal band is my security blanket, and hardboiiled is my self-fulfillment coming to fruition. the band schedule is already starting to hurt, which is a good thing -- it just motivates me more to become a better student this fall, and especially this fall, because i feel as if i have something to prove because i was an extension student.

this is my first fall semester at cal as a regular student, and it's going so well so far.

ah, i love the smell of tide deep clean.

posted by Open Source Food @ 11:39 PM 0 comments

i got back from the kansas roadtrip approximately ten hours ago. what i did can be summarized as so: eat, sleep, play, and leave.

eat. of the many places in overland park, kansas to eat at, we opted for the buzz that surrounded the kc masterpiece restaurant. there was an overload of food. and instead of napkins, they gave us towels. there was so much meat and barbecue sauce that it felt as if i were in an episode of rawhide or something. not to mention the fact that pat and i were the only people with enough melanin in our skin to make it look as if we were the ones cooked.

sleep. i caught up on my sleep that i had been lacking these past three weeks. according to pat, i slept for sixteen hours. i woke up an hour before we had to check out of the hotel. and on the way there, i slept on most of the plane ride and the bus ride, and on the way back, the plane ride was me conked out next to hiro.

play. the game was good. it was supposed to be on neutral territory, but you know, a thirty-minute drive over to another state really doesn't make a difference when there's thirty of you and fifty thousand of them. however, we did sound much bigger than kansas state's three hundred-member strong marching band. all in all, not a shabby game considering we were ranked fifty-fourth, and they were ranked fifth.

leave. boy, am i glad i'm back in california.

now that i think about it, even though it would be an awesome goal to visit all fifty states, i have a feeling i won't miss out on much if i skip middle america. especially when there's belligerent drunk adults taunting your school as "cal state." (if you're going to taunt us, at the very least, please, get it right.) or the drunk bitch making chinky eye gestures towards the dance team. there was one guy who wanted to take a picture with our dance team, but the aforementioned dumb bitch pushed him away by saying, "no, they're all chinese; they can't understand a fucking word of english." (note also that they wouldn't have been able to punctuate that sentence correctly by themselves.)

there was a nice feeling of superiority when they showed university ads. berkeley's was up first; it showed the campanile and the promise of the number one public university in the world and what it meant to us. then kansas state's came on, "the most recommended university" for academic purposes. hmm. did they recommend them to that school since they couldn't get in to cal? the resounding answer? at the end of the day, my wife isn't my sister, and i go back home to california. it was good to feel better than them.

i feel that those fans need to apologize to us. (they really do.) but you know, it's partly k-state's fault for selling alcohol at a college football game. and the very fact that we were in kansas city, missouri. there's really nothing anyone can do about anything now; the moment's passed, and we'll never see those sons of bitches ever again. the saving grace of the roadtrip? anyone else who was sober was amazingly respectful and polite in kansas. the fans who commended us afterwards of a great game played, of sportsmanship rather than egotistical inflation, those people are awesome. the band, well, who could ask for more when you have three hundred people wearing purple shorts and dinkles?

kansas, i won't miss you much. but i will remember you forever.

posted by Open Source Food @ 1:42 PM 0 comments

happy birthday to me.

i just woke up, and i don't want to do anything. if only the liberties of one's birthday allowed for such things. then again, turning a year older doesn't seem all that special -- i don't feel any different than i did yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that.

today, band camp ends. fitting, eh? i think i'll make an appearance at the end-of-ftp party, then head back home and just bask in solitude. nineteen's a good age to be turning, since there's nothing special about it. anything i can do this year, i could have done last year. oh well. whatever. today's just another day that happens to have been when i was born nineteen years ago.

yeah, i'm a bit young for where i am in life. but in any case, i'm still here, aren't i?

so where's my cake, y'all?

posted by Open Source Food @ 10:35 AM 0 comments

fall training program. (read: band camp.) hence the not-being-around-so-much for the past few days.

it's been a crazy insane week so far, since i'm on a few committees and have had to run some things that i never would have imagined i would ever even start running. the first day at davis, while everyone was learning marching fundamentals in the halls at night, i was up learning and relearning all of the people in band's names and faces and instruments. the second day, more fundamentals and bonding with my section, and finally, on sunday, it was jacob's birthday, and the ride back to berkeley.

berkeley so far has been interesting. my marching spot for pregame is a bit easier than i thought it would be, but it's still lots of fun to work with. i'm very excited about this year's newman class (the first years in band) because they are huge and amazing and have so much drive and effort. i'm very proud to say that these kids are in band with me, let alone in my section, because they're really a huge part in what makes this band run so smoothly and continue on with our tradition as being custodians of the california spirit.

it's only eight-thirty in the evening. i still have band work to do. aiye.

and with that, well, i'll see you when it's all over.

posted by Open Source Food @ 8:30 PM 0 comments

the craziness is finally over. everything ought to be falling into place as planned, and well, so far, so good.

the day started off with the two finals that i took, both asses of which i kicked. then, cal band insanity, from food runs to ultimate frisbee and newman icebreakers. it was really cool seeing all the newmen having fun and bonding, enjoying themselves and finding themselves surrounded with new people and friends. to everyone, that was an awesome time had by all, and to my fellow secretaries -- we did it, and this is going to be so much fun.

the craziness actually started this monday when daop started (our director's assistant orientations). right now, my lips are still shot, my legs a bit sore, my mind more than a bit frazzled. but soon, things will clear up, and everything will settle in its groove like usual. the fall season is something to definitely look forward to, and with this amazing incoming class, there's really a lot of possibilities as to what can happen next year. i'm very proud of the job recruiting did, and i'm very happy with the result of who's done what where.

i will be in davis over the next three days. wish us luck and good times; it'll be a definitely different experience than last year's. fun, but different.

i have to pack, still, and i need to be up in six hours.

ridiculousness.

posted by Open Source Food @ 11:36 PM 0 comments

another weekend, another botched trip to berkeley on the part of my parents. we had been planning for them to come back up here to berkeley sometime in the near future, after moving me in and getting me halfway settled into the new place. the trip was planned for two weeks after the first arrival. it's been two months now, and the next time that i'll have a free weekend is the week of september thirteenth. yeesh. talk about bad timing, eh?

the weekend, then, despite me desperately trying to clear my schedule of everything, was in fact very much fun. (i would even say more fun than if my parents were here.) saturday was surprisingly productive, when i decided to help out with some facilities upkeep -- i can't pass up a free lunch, yo -- and after that, i finished copying out the music for two and a fifth of the shows for the band. this week will be, as many have said, pure insanity.

if you haven't already done so, i would recommend the goodness of s.w.a.t. despite my thinking that it would be a horrible movie. colin farrell just needs to get rid of his accent to make him seem as if he'd grown up in l.a. his whole life. the rest of the movie was definitely awesome (so much stuff blowing up!) and highly believable. there's a lot of stuff that can really happen, and it's very cool to see them not overplay abilities or teamwork or all the stupid crap that would otherwise bog down the movie.

this is my last week of summer sessions. monday through wednesday, the routine goes as follows: wake up, go to math class, and go to daop (director's assistants orientation party) for the rest of the day, where i'll hopefull learn something new and useful. (if not, well, it's something to keep my mind off of things.) on thursday, i take two finals, then take charge of a group of about fifty band recruits to make sure they somewhat know each other, attend bajillions of meetings, and host a few recruits for a night's stay in berkeley. on friday, i get to lead a busload of people and make sure they get to davis all right. until sunday, about two hundred people will be learning how to march and play and carry on traditions. the following week, we carry that over to berkeley, and then, voila, i turn nineteen, and school starts the following tuesday.

insanity indeed.

thanks to jon for making the weekend very bearable -- liam's funeral was on saturday, and i had to take care of some business a nice part of sunday afternoon. phone calls, again. it just doesn't seem to want to stop, but it's really nice to have someone there for you when you need that.

for the next week, i just hope i get more than four hours of sleep every night. i don't want to relive last week's sleep patterns. nor do i want to forget anything that's recently occurred.

onward to insanity, then. insanity with sleep.

posted by Open Source Food @ 8:24 AM 0 comments

edit: if you don't want to read this, just scroll to the very bottom and read the first post of the comments box.

today marks the first year (of hopefully many) of my blogging to cyberspace.

precisely one year ago, i embarked on this journey of blogging. they say that writing's supposed to take you to places you would have never imagined, but i think it's such a paradox that when you do write something down, you've thought about it and imagined it. ah. well. the irony. i feel like i've barely taken a step with this whole writing thing -- i started off one year ago posting my writing excersises and supid goings-on. a year later, i'm still posting poetry pass-offs and even more mundane happenings in my life (with an opinion tacked on, mostly). i guess it just goes to show that either i'm a really crappy writer who doesn't experience growth, or that i'm a steadfast, stubborn, and firmly-rooted believer in, well, miguel.

a year ago i posted poetry and poetry and even more poetry. now i'm lucky if i even get to write a line or two in my spare time. i miss writing poetry, i miss the feeling of having to convey myself in wonderfully stupid and stupidly wonderful ways. the very fact that my hands are the brushes, the code is my paint, and your browser the canvas, it's very artistic, the whole poetry writing. and after writing a good, solid poem, i always feel relieved and less stressed. it's like therapy. it's like music. it's like baring my soul without anyone having to know it, and that is such a great emotion to feel.

i've been posting more and more about my life, my beliefs, and my idiosyncrasies. i think your audience would like to know just a little bit more about who they're actually reading, a sort of slice of yourself you offer up that you hope your readers will sniff and take a bite. and when they taste it for the first time, they'll get so hooked that they can't stop eating. it's a nice feeling to now that i have a readership out there -- whether you're one of my friends, or one of my online pals, or hell, if you clicked on the link from google that came up with your search string, great -- thanks for reading, guys, thanks so much. (and then again, you could have taken that either way -- either i was being extremely sincere, or i was being extremely sarcastic.)

with that, you see that i'm a believer in the fact that there's no middle ground when you're writing something like this. you have to express something, you have to say something and mean it. even if at the end of it all you just wanted to say "i like dogs more than i like cats" you have to convince whoever's reading out there that you really do like dogs better than cats. they're smarter, they're more loyal, they're more affectionate. (see? dogs are better already.) i don't believe in the gray area when it comes to expressing my beliefs, although there is an indecision most of the time that confuses me even more than it does anyone.

writing relieves me. (okay, so this isn't technically writing, but still.) i love the sound of the clicking of the keyboard as i type with only seven fingers total (i don't use my pointer fingers nor my left thumb), and i can still beat text twist and get a better score than a normal typer. one-handed style. i get a sense of comfort from the fact that i can channel my thoughts and my energy clearly and somewhat concisely onto this machine that can make me heard throughout the world. and that alone can make me sit and write so much more about the beauty of that statement.

my command of the english language is above average, i'd say -- i like to use big words like 'campestral' and 'banausic' and 'sagacious' as well as compound prepositions such as 'heretofore,' 'moreso,' and one of my personal favorites, 'nevertheless.' i guess it's that whole learning a second language thing. i grew up as a bilingual student, which has aided me immensely in my language studies. i kicked the sat ii's ass (not to brag about that eight hundred, but you know). i kicked the ap test's ass. but for what? really, it's a selfish reason: i wanted to get better at english so that i can make myself look good in a pool of people who have been speaking it all their lives, and still get it so wrong so often.

now you're probably thinking, 'what a narcissistic prick!' and well, you're right. but i have to say, you can't really get far in this world without having to be a little selfish and a little full of yourself to get ahead. and why not have a good time exercising your insecurity by belittling others at showing them what they can and can't do, right? ah. yes. the irony indeed.

now a year ago, i would write about my idealistic situations about love or how i liked what i believe. now, i've somewhat turned into a cynic with a knack for making other people feel better about themselves. i suppose it turns out much better for me if i do do that. i'm still an idealist. just now, i'm a cynic.

the events of the past year haven't made my transition seem strange, really. i got in a relationship, started college, went crazy, fell out of love, went crazier, pursued higher endeavors in learning and sociability, became madly infatuated, was totally surprised about serendipitous events, felt the backlash of what one year can do to friendships, survived (and still am surviving) the loss of a dear friend, bit my tongue so many times, and kept my mouth shut when it should have been open. you would think, after all that, i would write so much more, i would write so much about how the day went or how i feel at a certain moment or how good it feels to be back in berkeley. all those things, i've documented somehow, but at the end of the day, it's only a sliver, a microscopic detail of the rest of the person you probably know as miguel. there's so much more out there, as my apt roommate said, there's so much. and it's true, for both the world and myself: you barely know me, yet you continue to read. and you barely know the world, but you continue to live.

sam, a very good friend, once told me that he was glad that i'm a prolific writer. i would be the first to disagree that a) i'm not prolific, and b) i'm not a writer. i'd like to think of myself as both someday, but not now. not like this. if i were prolific i'd turn out works upon glorious works full of thought and meaning and opinion like a cheap whore turns tricks (thanks to becca). and if i were a writer, i would be able to make you laugh and cry and smile and frown and get angry and be afraid and feel, feel, to the very core of your being. i would be able to take you places you've never been, make you feel emotions you've never felt, and at the very end, when the moral of the story presents itself in the denouement, or as the theme lays itself out in the climax of the piece, you would feel a rush -- a rush of what, i don't know, maybe of blood, or of relief, or of madness -- and you would remember that feeling forever whenever you reread those words.

i think i've talked before about how i prefer the tangibility of paper and ink, and how that, to me, is much more meaningful than any keystroke or mouseclick. my penmanship on a page that was previously empty, now with almost indecipherable scribbles, would relay information that my brain would try to remember as i read through the events of the past year. but this, this page, where i'm typing at approximately eighty words a minute, gives me a voice. i get to say whatever i want, and you don't have to listen. fact is, though, you do, and i appreciate that. (and then the irony presents itself again, where you could have chosen to read that or not. life is funny. comedy central is funny. therefore, comedy central is life.)

the wonderful thing about this is that i can talk about anything and everything or nothing at all, and people will still read it. or, for my sake, i will, because i like seeing what i wrote. i don't remember half the stuff i've spouted off about. and looking at the page itself gives me thrills, since seeing the wonders of html four-point-oh for the first time a few years ago. the information age has given me, the measly little idealistic cynical weird filipino kid, a voice, a poster to put on the currently rotating bulletin board that is the internet. it's my way of saying 'here i am, look at me, and deal with it if you don't like it.'

paradoxes and irony aside, writing in this makes me feel safe. i can tell you my most profane secrets, or my most superficial thoughts, and it won't make a difference. i am who i am, and nothing can change that but myself. this just reaffirms that for me, and it's a big reason why i keep up with it. i like it. a lot.

i think i've talked a little too much for my own good. by now, if you're still reading, your eyes have probably drifted once or twice, or you've been distracted by something else and therefore wouldn't be reading these very words. just remember, folks, i love you all, thanks for everything, and here's to more years to come, assuming everything goes great, of course. life will treat us well if we want it to treat us well, i'm sure of it.

i told you writing takes you on a journey. this would be one of those really large off-tangents in a conversation. but you'll somehow come back, full circle, to wherever it is that you began. and that's why this is so much fun, because it feels as if i've spoken one part of the conversation, and now it's your turn to talk.

to my one year of blogging, then, ladies and gentlemen: to more years, to the future, to more emotions felt and more experiences logged. to you, my readers; to me, your writer; to the world who is my untapped audience; to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; to freedom, to joy, to justice, truth, and love; to friends and family; to lovers; to roommates; to enemies and bad company; to good food; to riches and rags; to movies; to poetry; to ink; to baring my soul; to the past, present, and future; to this, the here and now.

here i am. look at me.

and deal with it if you don't like it.

edit: say happy birthday to my blog by leaving it a present in the comments box. it'll love you forever.

posted by Open Source Food @ 11:03 PM 0 comments

this week is already considerably better than last: i solved a ten thousand dollar problem, fixed up about eighty people for the band mentoring program, and tomorrow evening, i will be celebrating this here blog's first birthday.

the uc berkeley office of the registrar is so smart, they classified me as a nonresident and soon thereafter told me that i was a california nonresident, as well as a resident alien. they had apparently notified me before may that i was liable for ten thousand dollars in nonresident fees, and that i needed to turn in documentation to prove my resident status. (what the fuck?!?)

so, this past monday afternoon, i traipsed on over to sproul hall with shereen in tow to clear up the mess. the residential affairs office was down at the basement, and so i told her that they messed up, yada yada yada, things got sent to my permanent address instead of my berkeley address, yada yada yada, they needed to see my greencard, dadadada, i had my passport instead. and then the clerk told me to just "cheat" and pay minimum as a resident when august fifteenth rolls around, even though the first disbursement is the nineteenth. the ten thousand dollars got cleared out of my registration, and then, eight thousand dollars went on my registration fees as the new fall semester rolled around. yeesh.

about an hour ago, actually, we just finished this horrendous four hour meeting on assigning incoming first-years in band to a mentor in our mentoring program we like to call "big bear-little bear" -- if you want to know who yours is, don't ask me, i'm too wracked. mentally, i'm fried; physically, i'm exhausted(yet i somehow muster the energy to keep typing this entry). there was lots of fun and nigh-delirious moments, but i guess it comes with the job... and by the way, go check the foyer calendar if you want to see what happens when old rosters are around, and we have scissors and tape.

sec's comm (the group who's handling all this) is also in charge of the check-in procedure as these incoming first-years get acquainted, head-on, full speed with the university and our marching band. it's going to be quite the experience; and i'm sure it'll be just as fun as it will be hectic. not to mention that i'll have two finals on the very same day that the whole check-in thing will be happening, but it's okay, i'll manage. i think i'll be all right.

and in mere hours, my blogging experience will be a year old. it feels as if it was forever ago that i started this thing, and now, it's grown so much, experienced a facelift, and changed material-wise from some of my most superficial thoughts and mundane writing exercises to my most cherished poems and the innermost workings of my mind. i hope you've enjoyed it -- i sure have. (i'll be sure to write about more of this tomorrow. right now, rest sounds like a good idea.)

and with that, minor celebrities at food stands are awesome, i miss you all, and coldplay is freaking amazing. go bears, and good night. i'll see you tomorrow.

posted by Open Source Food @ 11:20 PM 0 comments

i was up all night. dangerous, if you're me -- you tend to think, and that's all there is to do because i'm all alone.

after having a relatively great day yesterday celebrating michelle's birthday with a surprise party, i decided that i would be finally able to take a breather and relax after all that's happened this week. i got home and had a few nice conversations with people whom i haven't talked with for the longest time. as i was about to step out again, something inside of me finally decided to check the email that i got two days ago from michael, which contained scans of liam's note.

according to michael, i would be the last to read it. and as i got ready, i could feel my heart race, i could feel my hands shake, my throat tighten up, and my eyes start to water. and i was just typing in my login information to get to my email account. and then, there it was, the embodiment of everything i had been trying to avoid this week: subject line, liam's note; from michael r.; 8k with attachments. the moon was hidden behind the dense berkeley fog, but of what i saw of it earlier, it was shining brightly and in anticipation.

the first sentence made me break down into hysterics.

reading through those four pages, and seeing liam's handwriting for the last time, i could sense a rush shoot up my spine, and a chill envelop me immediately afterward. there was nothing i could say back, nothing would happen if i hit the 'reply' button as much as i could, and there was the moon, for but a few moments, peeking through the window. i was crying, and sleep would not come to me for the rest of the night.

this was around one, when everyone else seemed to be having lots of fun around the city and in the environs of oakland and berkeley. i was next to my laptop, trying to think of something to type back, but there was nothing. any keystroke would be fruitless; any mouseclick offered no chance of reply. i desperately looked around and saw my new blue journal sitting on the coffee table, opened it, and decided against writing anything, for now.

i sat in my room, thinking, and my journal, still empty from the last few days, would remain empty.

today i find myself restless, overwhelmed, and confused. i just need someone to be here for me and talk with -- soon, friends will come, i keep telling myself, soon, they'll be here to wrap you up in warm hugs and glowing smiles and make you feel better than now -- but that's not until later, not now, when i need you the most. but it'll get better, i know for sure, for the saying of the week seems to have been "the only way left to go is up." and sleepless saturday nights sure know how to mess with your m ind, especially if you're in a quiet apartment.

looking up. that's all that's left to do.

posted by Open Source Food @ 10:41 AM 0 comments