The Big One

I’m a bit annoyed that I am now a senior but I still can’t get into Linguistics 20. If you have ever talked to me about enrollment you probably know that I have been interested in this class for as long as I have been at UCLA. It’s always been sort of low priority: some other class filling rapidly inevitably forces me to spend my precious first-pass units elsewhere. For the Math 30 series and the first few math upper divs, there are generally 3 sections of each course offered each quarter, one taught by an awesome professor and two taught by horrible professors. Then there was always some GE which I was sure would fill up much quicker than Ling 20 (Scand 50W, Poli Sci 50, Geog 5...). Thus leaving me with zero choice in the allocation of my first pass units for my first few years as an undergraduate.

My capacity to be selective has purportedly increased in recent years, upon achieving “graduating senior” status. But I still have to compete with the other graduating seniors for the Classes that Matter. And I still can’t get into Ling 20. Blame resides with the first pass/second pass system, which we love as freshmen and hate as seniors. Something about silly freshmen being allowed to enroll in silly freshmen classes before their graduating senior overlords is just wrong. The worst part is even though the class has been full for a month now, the amount of students enrolled just keeps increasing:


Speaking of math classes, our selection for Fall 2010 is dismal. For some reason in the fall they mainly schedule The Ones that Everybody Takes, Math 110A, 115A, 131A, and 132. Which is absolutely fantastic for the people who have just started their upper divs and absolutely lame for the rest of us. It’s a trend I’ve been noticing - fall quarter has the most intro classes and as the year progresses they offer more specialized/unique/not boring ones. For example last spring I took Math 116, Cryptology, which incidentally is nothing like you think it is if you are unfortunate enough to be fan of the Da Vinci Code. But I’ve never really had an issue with a drought in class selection until this fall - presumably the budget cuts are at fault. Let us weep for the freshmen.

Until this year I was diligently writing a bit about each class I took at UCLA. I have gotten pitiably far behind so I’ll just tell you some of the highlights, although some of these should probably be called lowlights, get it?

CS 180 - Introduction to Algorithms and Complexity Theory: I’ll admit I didn’t really know what to expect from this class, but I did assume it would be useful for a computer-person specializing in mathematics. After all, it’s about algorithms. But it ended up being weighty and a bit too abstract and a bit too impossible. Every week I was assigned 4 impossible problems to solve by myself, problems which I spent hours thinking about without actually making any progress, and problems which I consequently got depressed about before writing down some crap and turning them in anyways. Fortunately the professor seemed to know his class was awful and let us out 30-40 minutes early from each lecture. And made some nerdy algorithm jokes, which I would have appreciated much more if I weren’t in a dank, stuffy room with no windows, surrounded by smelly undergraduate engineers.

CS 174A - Introduction to Computer Graphics: I still can’t believe the turkey that taught this class. On Day 1 he says to us “don’t expect to have enjoyable lectures,” and “I’m not going to make any funny jokes.” (This was a lie. He made several funny jokes. In fact I would say his ratio of funny jokes to normal speech was a bit higher than many other professors.) But he also told us some stuff about how learning is supposed to be a painful process, and how terrible our calculus and linear algebra skills were. So all-in-all he was a bit of a downer. He liked to tell us nothing about what would be on the exams. I scored about 30% on the midterm, which was the most below-average I have ever been on anything. I’m assuming this was because he threatened to give us negative credit for sufficiently awful answers, which dissuaded me from filling the page with my usual bullshit (I think this was his goal.)

This guy was quite full of himself, but deservedly so - he was brilliant. But he made it a little too apparent that teaching was not His Thing. After the midterm he gave us a course evaluation where he asked us to vent all of our concerns with him and with the class. Then he spent an entire class session discussing what we wrote, making legitimate excuses for some of our issues, but actually promising change for others. We left uplifted, or not completely screwed for the first time in the seven weeks we had been in the class. Then, he left the country. This sounds made up but I swear to you that he left the country and didn’t teach the rest of the class, just in time to not do anything he said he was going to do.

We were left in the astoundingly clumsy hands of the TA who spoke at about 50% normal speed. A smart guy, I’m sure, but he drew things out so much with his incredibly thick accent masking his already-broken English, things we didn’t particularly wish to hear in the first place. So I am pleased to announce that this is my new Worst Class of All Time, surpassing even 10th and 11th grade English.

German: I took an entire year of German just for kibbles and bits. I guess it’s because I like languages and because high-school me willed it. In the fall my TA was an old man, who was about as far from stimulating as I can imagine, and who failed to get us to speak German basically at all. He did quirky things like give us four copies of the same handout (maybe he had memory issues.) But I lucked out in winter and spring, when I had a very fun TA who reminded me a lot of my French TAs from freshman year. It was a good class, I met some great people (this is another reason I like to take languages.) But I’m afraid my retention of German is not so great - probably because German is hard. For some reason it’s much less intuitive to me than Spanish or French. My biggest problem is that there are way too many prepositions: an, ab, auf, aus, in, um, zu,, bei, neben, hinter, zwischen, nach, mit,durch, gegen, von, innerhalb, wahrend, etc., then of course they often contracted with other words, hinab, hinaus, herab, damit, danach, beim, zum, am, im, zum, hinterm, vom... All I can say is stay far away from German if you struggled with Spanish or French.

It has occurred to me that the university (at least mine) focuses on the theoretical rather than the practical, the abstract rather than the concrete. I suppose this is probably better, since the practical is usually a whole lot more obvious. But it creates a feeling of aimlessness that I find hard to shake. Am I really learning? Are these four years of solving impossible problems worth it? Being able to recite some new facts is a bit more tangible evidence of learning than suspecting “my thought patterns are a little different now.” I did have a bit of an epiphany during my sophomore year about mathematics and knowledge in general (this would take several more paragraphs to discuss), but how do I know that my university education is responsible, and that it wasn’t something that would have dawned on me regardless?

Coinciding with this is the longest creative draught I have experienced since I started calling myself a composer. This I am still struggling with. You would think that any emotion at all would lend itself to writing music (happy music. anxious music. sad music. mad music. lonely music.) But I have always found it much easier to write when in an optimistic/carefree/happy mood. Composing has never been very natural for me, but it is a bit alarming that stress seems to completely kill the entire process. This is something to think about, and for you to think about with me.

We played some incredible music this year in UCLA symphony:

Balakirev - Symphony no. 1: Oh how this piece grew on me. I am unsure why I did not like it at first, perhaps because it opens a bit slowly, with unquestionably the worst movement of the four. Not bad, but not terribly interesting - except a few bars towards the end of the piece where with a few brass chords he seamlessly gets the music back from Db to C. Half step modulations have always sounded terrible to me, but this one works. Then comes a scherzo which is probably one of the few classical works which I would describe as “catchy,” especially in its climaxes over a low A pedal. Then an andante with a melody which reminded me of the kind of melody I used to write. It’s even in Db, the key I imagine all pretty melodies in. I of course liked this movement instantly, although looking back I think its climax is a little less than effective: a bit of muddy orchestration of an odd chord, much less impassioned than a simple restatement of the melody earlier in the piece. A beautiful movement in general, but with a lot of exposed string writing in difficult keys, worsened by our hall’s unspectacular acoustics. The finale was the best movement of the four, and shouldn’t it be? It opens with a folk melody which I don’t particularly care for, except in that it makes me feel like I’m playing Tchaikovsky. Then a very upbeat clarinet melody which begins a triumphant allegro. Strings in octaves punctuated with brass and percussion - what’s not to like?

Tchaikovsky - Symphony no. 2: Another one that grew on me, but not all of it. The slow movement still sounds like it was written for the equivalent of today’s elementary school string players, some kind of stupid children’s march which spends way too much time with the dominant and tonic and no time anywhere else. But I’m willing to overlook this one because the surrounding movements are incredible. The first movement, absolutely a blast to play, is probably the most reminiscent of Tchaikovsky’s 4th-6th symphonies which were the works which pulled me into classical music in the first place. Sometimes in an orchestral string section the writing makes it difficult to play energetically - Tchaikovsky will have none of that. This was the most bow-hair-breaking piece I have performed since Rodeo. 3rd is a scherzo, which is a word I have difficulty using to describe a piece which sounds as angry as this flurry of notes. Completely relentless, even in its transition to the brief trio. The final movement is nothing spectacular, but closes with a very Russian blast of C major, which works for me.

Stravinsky - Suite from The Firebird: Further evidence that Stravinsky was way ahead of his time. Listen to the 60-second Firebird variation and you will have no idea you’re listening to something from the early 1900s. A sort of romantic modernism, breaking away from the last few restrictions of the classical era while still embracing natural forms and occasional lyricism, the kind of modernism I love and strive for. Top notch orchestration - this was after several revisions of the original ballet. It reminds me of Ravel at times - particularly the lullaby near the end of the piece, which occasionally sounds almost plagiarized from the opening to Ravel’s own Rapsodie Espganole (In a good way.) Then the Infernal dance, 4 minutes of rhythmic fervor which reminds me of modern wind ensemble literature. And of course, the unforgettable B-major Finale, easily one of the most triumphant moments in all of classical music.

Vaughan-Williams - Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis: Have I really never written about this before? Along with Barber’s Adagio and Part’s Silouan’s Song this is one of the few works of string orchestra literature which doesn’t bore me. Quite the opposite, in fact. The Phrygian mode is as close as I will ever get to spirituality. I have wondered for a while now why modern composers don’t embrace the medieval modes more. This piece is haunting, like it’s the music of god, and it’s just because the As are flat instead of natural. And I’ll stop there because any more and I would feel like I’m repeating myself.

Elgar - Cello Concerto: This piece is devastating: I feel guilty that it was right before intermission. Shouldn’t we leave the audience with something uplifting? Elgar has this style of writing where he almost completely abandons the tonic, going minutes at a time without resolution. In high school I fond it very difficult to listen to; only when I come back to this piece 4 years later do I realize it’s supposed to be. How could you live in post-WWI Europe and write music with a nice perfect cadence every 8 bars? The third movement in particular tears me apart. It has nothing that is normally found in what I consider pretty music: no fortissimo climax, no soaring string melody, no suspensions. It just goes for a short 4 minutes and somehow it’s the saddest thing you’ve ever heard. The soloist just floats back and forth above the orchestra, meandering aimlessly, a bit reminiscent of Messiaen’s Louange à l’Éternité de Jesus from the Quatuor pour la Fin du Temps. And of course the material is restated towards the end of the 4th movement, just to make me even sadder.

Ravel - Ma Mère l’Oye: The most restrained of his orchestral works, I felt it was a good fit for our orchestra. Its highlights include l’Impératrice des Pagodes, a quick 2/4 dance over a major pentatonic scale. I love the last few chords: every note of the scale sounded simultaneously - and it’s still beautiful. Further proof that is impossible to write anything ugly with a major pentatonic scale. Then there is La Belle et la Bête, its titular characters represented by a romantic waltz and the rare contrabassoon, respectively. What a fun instrument the contrabassoon is. If you have never heard one solo before you should look into this piece. The work closes with Le Jardin Férique, a slow C major crescendo to a final few bars of sparkling harp and celesta over string trills and sustained horn chords.

And a not so great piece:
Mozart - Flute Concerto no. 1: I maintain that this piece could be played without much difficulty by a 5th grader. It’s absolutely unspectacular. I know you know I dislike classical era music in general, but this is just so much worse than Mozart’s own Symphonia Concertante, which we played last year, or any concerto by Haydn. At least the soloist had some nice cadenzas.

I have somehow managed to get a paid internship with Edison Mission here in Irvine. Mostly what has resulted is further disappointment at the plodding tempo of office life. Always waiting for somebody. Which isn’t quite what I needed, but at least this time I get money. It’s difficult to be here daily from 8-5, but I have survived for two full weeks now. The whole experience has grimly foreshadowed the rest of my life. At least I have a fallback position: math teacher. And perhaps my career as a composer will suddenly and surprisingly take off. But that’s probably just a bit of wishful thinking. I often feel guilty for doing so little here. Must try to convince myself it’s okay to take money from large corporations.

I’m approaching 2700 words - which is significantly longer than anything academic I have ever written. Am I redeemed now? Can I go back to saying I have a blog after 7 months of neglect? If you actually read this far without skipping please let me know, and please allow me buy you some delicious food.

Frohe Weihnachten

For some reason I have had remarkably little Christmas spirit this year - which is why I am surprised that the usually-mundane task of wrapping presents granted me such fulfillment. Here is a photograph I took of the armada of gifts I wrapped Tuesday morning, arranged seductively atop one another:



I know you're unimpressed, so let me assure you that if you had witnessed the skill with which I usually wrap presents, you would agree these five are a triumph.

The festivities reminded me of earlier festivities which I neglected to write about, namely All-Hill Halloween. In early October we were suckered into attending our first (and hopefully our last) floor government meeting, where a vote was held to select our floor's theme. Disney movies won a marginal victory over Pokémon - not exactly frightening, but we all began to envision some nice decorations. Consequently, we were unprepared for this:



It's Halloween indeed when once-lovable Disney characters are suddenly so decrepit.

Cats and Dogs

I realize that a post about rain is redundant at this point, but there is something fascinating about unusual weather here in Southern California that I find impossible to ignore.

Monday morning I woke up and it was raining, which is decidedly the best way to wake up. Recently I was reminded of the phrase "raining cats and dogs", which I never quite understood - but I do know that it can accurately describe Monday morning, with a little augmentation. So I will say this: it was raining jaguars and rabid coyotes. Or so it seemed to someone who has been living in Southern California for the entirety of his life.

Naturally I was in a good mood, and naturally the 3rd Law of Everything had to shatter that. I went on MyUCLA to check grades, which I have a propensity to do the week following finals. I clicked on Math 61 and saw a big, hairy C-, the alluring symmetry of the 3rd letter of the alphabet a stark foil to my inadequacy. Hmm, I didn't think I did that poorly on the final. Then I realized I had no grade listed for the final exam, and calculated my grade with a 0 on the final: sure enough, a C-. Emailing the professor confirmed the error; he informed me that I should have received an A- and that he had already requested that the grade be changed. What a guy.

I had a whole bunch of Butlerisms which I would share with you, more for my sake than for yours, because I think he is hilarious. Unfortunately I wrote them down in my notebook, which I left at UCLA, so here are a few I can recall from memory:

• After making an error on the chalkboard: "Luckily we have such modern technology here." He erases it with his hands: "Touch screen!"
• Discussing the chromatic number of a graph, the amount of colors required to color each vertex such that no two adjacent vertices have the same color: "This is denoted by the greek letter χ [chi, pronounced as the first part in the word kite]. If you ever forget what letter we use, just remember, chi, as in chi-loring!
• While writing a set X and its subset x on the board: "That's the disadvantage of using X to denote sets - the uppercase and lowercase look the same!" Someone suggests using a curly x to make the lowercase more obvious. "Well, you're assuming I know cursive!"
  

UCI (and some more pictures!)

Over the past six weeks I've been volunteering for my mom's department at UCI, which has basically become my second home (I guess third if you count UCLA). The work has ranged from bearable to tedious, although the main problem thusfar has been not having enough to do. Hopefully a real office job is a bit more invigorating, but how can I have much confidence when that scene in Office Space where Peter tells the Bobs about his typical day at work depicts my situation perfectly?

Naturally lunchtime is sweet release, so each day I've been begging anybody in the vicinity of UCI to dine with me and protect my sanity. When nobody is around I kill time walking in circles around the Ring Mall - a mix of aimless wandering, listening to all of the campus tours, searching for people I know, and photographing anything out of the ordinary. (You'll have to forgive the low resolution, these were taken with my cell phone)

This little diagram was drawn on the whiteboard in the room where I work - affectionately dubbed "The Cave" by the employees. Apparently there used to be three people in here - remnants of an ancient civilization in which students were affordable. My favorite quote about the Cave: "Oh that? That's not the cave. That's the dungeon."

Two Asian student groups consistently provide excellent signs to look at.

If only the perfect friend cost a mere $2.00 (or if only boba were sentient) :


Nothing says Japanese like Domo-kun:

A confused Psyduck outside an engineering lecture hall:


The most prestigious Cal State:


I'm a sucker for modern-looking buildings so I have grown very fond of the campus - especially the comically superfluous McGaugh Hall (It looks a bit more ridiculous in person.) And at least three more fancy new buildings are currently under construction. I'll have to return when they are completed.

I do exaggerate the tedium in my work - I made some Visio diagrams mapping the flow of sensative information one week and actually felt productive for a while. I'd love to share them with you except they are security diagrams so it would be a bit counterproductive.

In other news, another Post-it from my mom appeared recently:
One of the most disturbing marketing gimmicks I have ever witnessed: free earbuds! Except they came with my sister's Clean & Clear Oil Absorbing Sheets:


My Fall 2008 schedule has been finalized:

MUS HST 5: History of Rock and Roll
MATH 33B: Differential Equations
MATH 61: Introduction to Discreet Structures
GEOG 5: People and the Earth's Ecosystems
MUSIC 90M: Marching Band
MUSIC C90E: UCLA Symphony


And last but not least some new faces (I should really start numbering them)

The lovely ketchup at Johnny Rocket's, where Courtney has been working (I'm not sure if this one counts because it's intentionally a face) :

The entire backside of Claire's car creates one of the most elated smiles I've seen:


And perhaps the most spectacular yet, which we discovered tonight - the mighty Tortillaface.

Faces surround me (a picture post)

Faces surround me - in a delicious slice of Oreo cheesecake:

On the floor of Claire's house:

Along the Ring Mall at UCI:

And among the 100+ blurry 4th of July fireworks photos:


In my defense some of the photos actually turned out quite well - and I don't get to say that often:




These were the fireworks of the 2008 Americafest, a large drum corps show / fireworks display which apparently has been held every 4th of July for the past 82 years at our own Rose Bowl (and I thought I wouldn't have to return there until September.) As we could expect, the corps that performed (Pacific Crest, The Academy, Santa Clara Vanguard, Phantom Regiment, and the Blue Devils) were as spectacular as the fireworks they preceded.


It was interesting to see how the audience segregated itself into those attending for the drum corps and those attending for the fireworks. But as the corps ended and fireworks were about to commence we were reunited by the universal love of glowsticks:

The previously-mentioned fortune cookies have been reconciled. As promised, a photo of the swarm:

One morning after waking I was plodding down the stairs when I noticed that my mom had left me a note on the rail of the stairs:
She didn't just leave me. a note, she left me two:


I later noticed a third - I guess the dishwasher really needed emptying:

And finally, relief - a fourth note with a nice upbeat shift in tone:

Weekend in Irvine, Spring finals week

Last Thursday was a bit hectic because I had my French oral final and my AUD 10b final. My last assignment of the quarter was the 9th homework for PIC10b. My printer had run out of ink the previous night, so I wanted to finish the written part of the homework during discussion (It was held in the PIC lab on Thursdays, so I could use a printer there.) It didn't take much time at all to finish so I printed it and left early to go "study" for AUD which I had immediately afterwards.

The next day was the last day of class. (As a side note, the only one of my teachers who received applause this quarter was my French teacher, who ironically won't be allowed to return to UCLA next year.) I turned in the written part of the PIC 10b homework and then realized that in my haste on Thursday I had neglected to place the homework's programming part (C++ files) into the submit folder by the Thursday, 6 PM deadline. Needless to say I couldn't pay attention in class. At 10:50 I hurried to the PIC lab and submitted my homework - I was going to talk to the professor but then I saw on the syllabus: No late homework will be accepted for any reason.

I pretty much gave up hope until I woke up this morning and checked MyUCLA to see that I have received normal credit on the assignment. I guess they didn't collect the files until the reader graded the homework. This pleased me.

Later I went back to Irvine so I could watch the Northwood Philharmonic play some of my favorite pieces:

• Maurice Ravel's Tzigane - Ian did an absolutely fantastic job with this. The orchestra did quite well too, considering it was Ravel.
• Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings - I think a lot of us were spiteful about this one because we all wanted to play it after sightreading it last year. I thought it was amusing that the high parts (including uncomfortably high treble clef passages for the cellos) were much more in tune than the low one. But this allowed them to pull off the climax very successfully - quite good overall.
• George Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue - A pretty difficult piece and the orchestra did alright. Ellen played the solo piano part well too, although there were balance problems between the orchestra and the piano (I'm not sure if it's her fault or the piano's - I had previously only been on the opposite side of the piano)

And now for two lovely food-related photographs- first, the most glorious Sun Chip yet discovered (Phillip's countenance depicts our awe):
My brother likes to eat entire cans of pineapple at a time:

I had to return to UCLA Sunday morning so that I could take the PIC 10b final exam at 3 PM, which was relatively easy. They handed us a sheet with the solutions on it immediately after the exam. My algorithms for many of the programs we had to write on the exam varied from those on the solution sheet, but I'm confident they work just as well. Except for one, which I later realized would be an infinite loop (oops).

My next final was French, on Tuesday night - at least that's what I thought. I ate dinner and walked over to Rolfe Hall and became a little uneasy at the lack of anyone I knew there. However, all the French 3 finals are held in the same room at the same time, so this was only somewhat unusual. Then a girl a few rows in front of me asked another girl "You're in French 2? Oh, the French 1 and 2 finals are at the same time?" So I concluded that the French 3 final was at the same time as well. Then a bunch of French teachers entered, including mine - except it was mine from last quarter. So I left the room and took out the syllabus: Final Exam: Wednesday, June 11. Oops.

The actual final was easy as expected - except it seemed to neglect over half of what we learned this quarter. I guess that benefited the majority of people in the room.

Last night I went to bed around 2 AM and was having a wonderful dream until someone in my dream started hacking at my guts with a giant ax. Then I woke up and realized it was just the fire alarm going off, though these have basically the same effect (my ears are still ringing). I put on a sweatshirt, grabbed my key, put on my shoes and trudged down the stairs half-asleep. As usual the Hedrick Summit staff was whining at us to cross the street, and then to get out of the street. This time there was a cranky police officer telling us the same thing ("What part of get out of the street do you not understand?") We were slowly herded into Parking Lot 15 as usual until 30 minutes passed and they told us we could go back into the building. Unfortunately for Summit 4, someone had set off a fire extinguisher and they weren't allowed to return there yet.

Everyone was pretty pissed off and pretty asleep throughout the whole incident but I couldn't help but feel a sense of unity. We were completely screwed over the night before our last finals, but we were all in this together. One of the more memorable experiences of this year, to be sure.

Today was the Linear Algebra final, much easier than expected. It basically mirrored the practice Final which we got last week, except with slightly more irritating problems. Even checking my work, I finished in under 2 hours. I may actually get an A in math this quarter.

Now I've entered that awful limbo between the end of finals and actually receiving grades for them.

Winter Break

One initial purpose of this blog was to prevent me from forgetting all the little things that I do that break the monotony of everyday life. I am displeased to announce that over winter break this blog has miserably failed to do this. So now in a bleak effort to remedy the situation I will write as much as I can about everything I can remember doing in the past few weeks.

On Friday, December 14 I attended my brother's orchestra concert. As always they gave an absurdly good performance for a middle school orchestra, though the experience was somewhat dampened by the middle school kids hiding in the back of the theater who think that it's okay to be loud during a performance.

Wednesday the 19 and Thursday the 20 were Northwood's winter concerts, which opened with a great example of Mr. Case's eloquent speech: "Hello, my name is Mr. Case!" (But we still love him.) The lower ensembles Wednesday night sounded better than I can remember them ever sounding prior, leaving me quite impressed. Thursday concluded with a suite of music from Home Alone which put me to sleep, though more likely the fault of the music than of the performers. The Philharmonic also played relatively well the second set of Malcolm Arnold's English Dances, which I am fond of. Other highlights of the evening were a gorgeous arrangement of O Come, O Come, Emmanuel by the Chamber Singers, and six movements of Vivaldi's Gloria by an alumni choir. But the most memorable segment of the evening was a wonderful performance of David Maslanka's Give Us This Day by the Wind Symphony, which unfortunately came first on the program. The concert series was fantastic overall and it is reassuring to see that the new instrumental directors are living up to the legacy of the first few.

Starting December 20 I was blessed with the task of caring for Claire's cat Shako while she was in Northern California. Being responsible for the sustenance of a living thing for an entire week and not seeing it even a single time is a bit odd. The only evidence I had of his subsistence was the gifts he left for me in the litter box.

Christmas Eve, which was held at our house for a much-appreciated change, lacked the extravagance of previous years. Only two of my relatives came to eat dinner with us. Dinner itself was a feast on Costco lasagna, a testament to the changing trends of modern life...

Christmas #1 was a triumph: I received a new camera, which is why the rest of this post will actually contain pictures. Other spoils include these lovely band scores (Not pictured is Samuel Hazo's Exultate). Though you probably cannot read it in this photo, a disturbingly hilarious disclaimer adorns the front of the Rhapsody in Blue score: "GERSHWIN is a Trade Mark of Gershwin Enterprises. GEORGE GERSHWIN is a Service Mark of Gershwin Enterprises. All Rights Reserved."

Christmas #2, which was at my Aunt's house, began with the horrors of the Electric Snowmen Holocaust. The rest consisted of sitting on a sofa for two people with three people, listening to my uncle talk about Japan, listening to my cousin talk about The Beast, and watching Nolan in his native habitat.

We then proceeded to my Grandma's for Christmas #3, which consisted mainly of taking pictures of people taking pictures and a dinner which was basically Thanksgiving #3. I also wound up with a hilarious abundance of Reese's Fastbreaks and Sun Chips:



My arteries thank me daily for having only scratched the surfaces of these.

On December 28 I went to Phillip's house. He had a giant cookie that said "Happy Birthday" except it wasn't anybody's birthday so we can assume that it was half price on the reject rack. The picture to the left shows the cookie's remains after Charles and I cut some fun shapes out of it. The main entertainment was Phillip and Cassandra sorting through his ridiculous mass of coins (yes, those are all quarters), which Austin and Charles did not consider to be entertainment and consequently left early. After this ardor our boredom was cured by our discovery that Phillip gets the Game Show Network here in Irvine. We saw a lovely commercial with a horrendously terrible CGI fox who was allegedly good for small business. Dinner was Round Table's new monstrosity, the Meat Ulti-Meat pizza, with a name so hilarious that we could not resist making Phillip burst out in laughter as he ordered.

On Saturday, December 29 Claire and I took the train and the LA Metro to see Wicked at the Pantages. I made the mistake of making eye contact with the hobo on the subway and he asked me for money. The theater of course was very nice and the sets and performance were amazing but it is definitely not my favorite musical. Afterwards we ate dinner at this place on Olvera Street whose name I still do not know.

I spent New Year's Eve with Claire; we watched Amélie, a wonderful film we watched in French last quarter, which I had given to Claire for Christmas. I ate this amazing See's Candy with butterscotch, and I demand more.

I think I have almost reached my limit in terms of how much I can rip out of myself at the moment. I am resisting all the cliché within me, urging me to write some grandiloquent ode to the new year, but I will relent enough to say this: as Claire said to me last night, it will never be 2007 again. But I have yet to decide whether this is a good thing or not. The timeless inner conflict: "Yes, I've had enough of this, let's move on" against "what I wouldn't give to do it all again."

Relatively Eventful Irvine Day no. 1

Returning to bass trombone after months of playing a wimpy F-attachment tenor is a euphoria as close to heaven as one can achieve here. Effortless low Ds and Cs, pedal tones that actually sound like something. I had the chance to experience this today for about 30 seconds and it could not have happened at a better time. Today's visit to NHS met moderate success; I would like to have watched Philharmonic rehearse a bit (I suppose the concert on Thursday will suffice), and we forgot to show Mamer the photos with us and Dennis Kucinich's wife. But these setbacks did not prevent all enjoyment - it was a nice kind of nostalgia today, a welcome escape from the bitter and unsympathetic variety that trips to Irvine often instill within me.

The usual trips to the reject racks of Ralph's and Albertson's followed, but sadly there were no amazing bargains to be exploited today.

Breakfast was Mimi's Café, where a waitress angrily spat, "Who got the Belgian waffles?!" I of course took several seconds to respond to this, confused because while I had indeed ordered Belgian waffles, I expected them to be served sans attitude.