This past weekend I went to the dunes with my friends. I cannot tell you where it is cause then I’d have to kill you but its a very secret place in Santa Barbara. We rolled up at to the dunes and started playing king of the hill.
This is one of the most fun games to play on a sand dune because if you fall it does not hurt. There was no winner cause were all friends and we felt that competition would rob us of the fun. I won though.
After shlacking around we began to play pretend skiing, also known as the Mountain Goat game. To play, one must jump from side to side down the dune, shifting their hips every jump. We did this for a couple hours but it definitely wore us out so we just sat around playing with sticks and little critters we saw running around.
After all the shananigans we went to the pier to get some food. On the way, we got distracted by all the festivities and people so we decided to just watch. There was people of all shapes and sizes, carrying all kinds of prizes, on all types of lows and rises. Bars. Barz. Bharzs. Bharhs. As we approached the end of the pier we noticed many a men casting lines. We sat and watched them catch no fish for a very long time. You would think it would get boring but theres just something about men and their poles. The water was especially beautiful that day which really made for a wonderful evening. It was really awesome to see the sun sink into the water on the horizon. Kinda like dipping an oreo into a glass of milk except the sun doesn’t comeback up till a day later. A day is also known as twenty four hours. Anyways, we all realized we had no money to buy food so we decided to disperse to our homes. I cuddled alone in my bed that night thinking of my really cool friends. Nothing better then some dunes on a weekend.
This week is Spring Break and I am not in SB so although you may have been anticipating another great SB Pairs read, I will instead be mostly talking about the drug epidemic that is testing our nations ethics. I visited San Francisco this break and while driving to my brother’s house in the city, I drove through the Tenderloin and noticed several homeless humans shooting up.
Although I’m aware of opioid use in this country, actually seeing another human shoot up on the side of the street is $%*& up. Yet the most unsettling part is seeing other humans walk by without even acknowledging the homeless man. Why was nobody stopping? Why could nobody look into this man’s eyes?It’s hard to face problems. It’s also hard to give your own time in such busy lifestyles. But while our country seems to echo the importance of community, there are citizens who are being left out. Although I admire Obama’s efforts to end this country’s heroin crisis, it was not nearly enough and it can be guaranteed that the only service this new administration will provide to heroin users is jail time.
If we truly wish to end this drug problem then it is time we stop passing each struggling addict as if their an obsolete being. Rather placing responsibility in our government, I think it would be more appropriate for every person to approach it as an ethical issue and take action. It seems pretty lame that every time we pass a homeless person tripping, we just justify the situation as past repair. These people can be rehabilitated but they need help. After digesting my thoughts, the rest of the trip was pretty fun.
After getting to my brothers house, me and my two brothers and my sister-in-law listened to music and just talked. We then ate different pastas at a mediocre Italian Restaurant, but the company was good. Overall it was a fun night and I was glad to have spent a night with them in the city. My next stop was my grandma’s house which is about 45 minutes outside of the city and while there I was feed and bedth. It was a wonderful time and I am excited to finish my trip in Santa Barbara where I will enjoy the presence of my peers.
I start my journey to South Coast Deli with Ryan Murphy, Taylor Robins, Cole Federbusch, and Jaelen Keel.
We decided to eat at South Coast cause it’s a favorite spot of all Santa Barbarians and it deserves to be. My friends all argue over who gets to ride shotgun but it is soon resolved. We all buckle up and I turn on the ignition. Vroom Vroom! How loud my engine roars! Now, not only is my engine turned on but I am too. Just kidding. I swiftly maneuver my way out of my parking spot and stamp the gas. We hit 100 on Milpas, while dodging little freshman. They jump out of the way like a disfigured deer in the headlights of a tank. If you have been reading my blog, you’d know that my Subaru, El Beastado, is a freakin killer out on the streets and is respected by all other cars who wish to live so I always get my way on the crete. Anyways, we finally get to South Coast Deli and it’s no surprise that the line is bumpin.
We wait for about 5-7.6 minutes and when I get to the front I feel like a Hall of Fame inductee about to make his speech.
I’ve been waiting all day for this mofo sandwich so i’ve already rehearsed my order, “Hello… May I please have a Megans Grilled Cheese and add peppers and tomatoes.” Hell yeah, I absolutely nailed it. I give the orderee my money and wait for my delicious sandwich. Cole, Jaelen, Ryan, and Taylor order their meals but I know I picked the best option. Bafoons. We all finally get our lunches and sit together while conversing. A wave of euphoria blankets us as we all joyfully eat and enjoy one anothers company. The mixture of the nice, fresh, ventilated air in South Coast and the rambunctious vibe of my friend group surely guarantees a wonderful pair. As I eat my food I ponder my next pair. What could it be? Whatever it may be, I know that it will be hard to outdo my current pair of “South Coast Deli and Friends”.
Frisbee. Classic. The Santa Barbara Mission. Classic. This week’s blog post will feature one of the best pairs that has been created. Two of the most classic things you’ll find in SB have been mixed together to form the BEST SB PAIR so far… So buckle your pants and get ready for some tapenade. Its Friday March 10, 2017 and I pick up my acquaintance Cole Federbusch. On the ride I notice a beautiful rainbow which I’d like to share.
Once we get to the mission, we immediately start stretching because the strenuous work of throwing the frisbee could result in a pulled muscle or some other injury. We take a few laps around the Rose Garden and proceed to do some high-knees, flamingos, and arm swings. Now that were ready, it comes as no surprise that were throwing pure butter.
It seems as if were the Brita filter to water. Every throw is so clean and always ends up being graciously received by the other. We begin to shake things up with some unique tosses; the chicken wing, the blade, and of course the scoober. Were starting to draw attention and by the end of our warm-up routine, there’s thousands of people gathered around. They all stand in awe of our swift, sexy motions. We continue to frolic in the cool evening air and the crowd begins to scatter. I enjoy the rhythmic slide of the frisbee each time I eject it from my hands. I look to my right and the glow of the mission is mesmerizing.
Although the mission looks beautiful, I see through it. This site is where California’s natives were beaten, maimed, whipped, tortured, burned. Junipero Serra was in fact a manipulator who used the power of religion to justify his genocidal acts. But besides this devilish picture and evil history, the mission proves to be one of the most tranquil, happiest places in Santa Barbara. Cole and I continued to throw the frisbee for a few more hours and then called it a day and headed home. I recommend that all my fellow Santa Barbarians and visitors to this city get a frisbee and go head to the mission.
4:45 A.M, Saturday March 4th. It’s Spring in Santa Barbara, but Winter’s chilling air is persisting. I roll over and look out my window at the black sky. Just the way I like it. Black. I go into my kitchen and eat a banana with a hot cup of some black coffee. The mood has clearly been set for my day and I’m ready to drive to my volleyball tournament in Valencia. The sky outside is a very dark magoon color. I enter my mother’s Volvo and turn on my seat heater. I wrap myself in a blanket and I feel like a joey in a Marsuppium. I suck the pleasing warm air coming from the car’s vents and I simply sigh. We begin the ride.
This picture does a great job at illustrating the frigid air, reflected by the foggy window. It is not so much the darkness that I fear, but instead the absence of light. It was invigorating to drive in the unknown but as the car moved, time persisted. Inevitably, the darkness began to fade, yet a mellow dark-blue blanket fell over the sky with slabs of pink clouds scattered.
Feeling the Earth move below the tires was such an amazing experience, yet to also be feeling this in the dark was such a euphoric reality. Nearly 68% of the universe is dark energy and 27% is dark matter. Our world is a dark place but this should be embraced because it is in the darkness that we truly find out who we are. During this dark-drive, I was able to connect with myself in ways I had never imagined possible. It is in these connections I made that contributed to the epiphany of “dark movement”. It’s like the dark energy of dark matter and its all negativity we feel. When the light begins to charge the sky, it feels like that one scene of Gandalf when he charges the dark forces of Mordor.
The rest of the ride to Valencia is scattered with patches of dark sky yet it just isn’t the same as a completely dark sky. I encourage all my readers to try this pair and give me feedback!
My eyes slowly peel open like the tinfoil lid of a Blueberry Yoplait. Ah, nice. It’s a Saturday morning and tonights the big night so I better make sure i’m mentally and physically prepared. I start off with some calisthenics to warm up my mildly tempered body but then get hungry and seek my mom.
My mother prepares me a healthy breakfast which provides the fuel crucial for the next couple hours and I am grateful for that cause its a shame to skip the most important meal of the day. I scan my phone and it becomes apparent that it’s already midday so I should get-a-movin if I wish to have a nice full day. I roll over to the appointed pre-game house, Taylor Robins, and with some other fellows such as Ryan Murphy and Jaelen Keel, we begin the pre-partay.
Other friends are present at the event but I dont deem it necessary to name them. After a few hours of various activities we order ubers to the main attraction of the night, Winter Formal. We all mob onto the dance floor like a bloat of hippopotamuses and immediately I break out the moves. Bing, bam, boom, slam! We are absolutely tearing up the dance floor and everyone knows it.
I look over and I see Jaelen throwing down some other worldly vibes that I just cant even explain in words. The music hits my ears like sugar to the tongue and my body just wiggles to the beat. I approach the DJ, who seems like he mixes mainstream music in his mom’s basement and I request some Flaka. He said he’d play it but not one Waka Flaka Flame song came on so he should be expecting a thrashing on yelp when I get the time. Besides that little conundrum the dancing and music was exceptional. Dancing cannot be originated from one civilization or time because it is as natural as walking and eating. We need to dance to survive and this Winter Formal rejuvenated my love for dancing to music. As the dance progressed I began to wear and after about a hour I periodically hit the floor but not nearly as hard as those first 60 minutes. I might not attend the next Winter Formal but I suggest that all students at SBHS do at some point in their career.
As William Penn once said, “Time is what we want most, but what we use the worst.” Although I would usually side with my dear friend William on this, I must also add that the essence of time is not found in reflection but through an everlasting journey that should be experienced with all senses. Time is life’s milk and this weekend Cole and I sucked the tit. We used every last bit of time this 4day weekend and achieved more then we have in months. So let me illustrate our weekend from the beginning. It’s Thursday and schools out so I’m debating whether to have little shindig at my place or just keep it “lowkey”. Instead of inviting the whole crew, I decide to just have a playdate with my homie Cole.
He comes over and Flaka starts bangin on the speakers, it’s lit. About 30 minutes after doing miscellaneous activites, a wave of hunger sweeps over us and shifts us into the kitchen. After what seemed like years of careful calculation, we decided to dial the phone number for our favorite delivery resteraunt, Himilayan Kitchen. We order chicken curry, cheese naan, and chicken mo-mo and then waited but we became worried for our voracious appetites weren’t getting any smaller. As if our world was about to come crumbling down, the door bell rang and the food came. I give the delivery man a hefty sum and our transaction is completed within seconds. We eat our food like dogs then dig into the ice cream stash.
After finishing our food we move to the couch and begin the next demanding task of the night, picking a movie.
I ask Cole what his favorite movie is and after some confusion he aggresively responds, “I only watch Forrest Gump, Harry Potter and The Sorcerer’s Stone (long pause), no wait I like Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, and Blades of Glory.” Nice Cole, classy. I disregarded his suggestions and decided to make a bold move. I put on “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” and Cole dropped to his knees and begged me to turn it off but I slapped him away like a pimp daddy. I was determined to watch this damn movie; little did I know what I was walking myself into. After pressing play, Cole screamed and ran out of the room like a chicken being nuditered, but I stood like a man and watched it. I was fine until about the 15th second when first blood was drawn and the grotesque images overcame my bravery. I immediately turned it off and decided that I was no man but merely a wussy. Although me and Cole couldn’t watch the scary movie, I enjoy experimenting with my limits and I’m glad I had that experience. Thank you for enjoying my story of hunger, violence, friendship, lust, and happiness.