Miss Peru

My friend Zeke recently informed me that Miss Peru was crowned Miss World a couple of days ago. In celebration Simon and I are going to Peru for Christmas. Our purpose: congratulate Miss Peru for a job well done and see if one of us can score a date.

Will someone please remind me what I'm doing here in Provo, Utah?

Two days ago I woke up un sunny San Diego. Now I am freezing my way from class to class in sub-35 degree Provo. For some strange reason I like to pretend I'm still in California and go without a jacket. There is no logical explanation for this--other than, well, no...no logical explanation whatsoever.

Last week was pretty cool. Simon came up from Jacksonville, Florida on Friday. We went to library Kate's birthday party at Old Mill apartments. Would you believe they already had an advanced copy of "Napoleon Dynamite?" There we stole pizza and Junior Mints and mixed with the local folk for a bit.

On Saturday Danny, Robbie, and I started playing some basketball for a while in the UPC. After only like 45 minutes we were rudely chased away by Relief Society sisters getting ready for an activity. I never thought I'd see the day I'd actually be mad I had to stop playing basketball.

After that I made my acting debut as a character for one of advertising/library/ward-member Gracie's soy-milk campaign commercials. In it I played the part of "Rice Milk," an outcast of the milk society. The point of the campaign is to get teens interested in drinking soy milk through humorous situations. All the commercials feature a guy in a soy milk t-shirt who gets rejected by other milk types because he comes from a bean rather than a cow. Each one ends with him getting the girl because she's lactose-intolerant. As Rice Milk (also known as Horchata) I got to sit with poor Soy while he was feeling down and and console him for a while. It was seriously like the most fun thing. We filmed in the Timp View High cafeteria. They had the whole place prfessionally lit, with costumes, and fancy cameras, and the slapper thingie....even a table with free food. I was all over that.

Sunday I gave a talk in church about "Why bad things happen to good people." I think it went pretty well. Some people told me afterward that they had enjoyed it. That's always nice to hear. My friend Danny also spoke last Sunday in the same building. I snuck out of priesthood meeting with Simon to catch his general-authority-esque discourse. The man is a machine. Who else could go last in a sacrament meeting all about the Word of Wisdom and still be interesting?

Monday I had school. At night Simon's friend Becky and her roommates invited us over for dinner. Then I went to Robbie's birthday party and back to campus for more school work.

We left for California early Tuesday morning. On the way out we met up with Simon's ex Ashley in Las Vegas. Man, was that a trip! It was like hanging out with your brother's high school crush from 10 years ago only she's married now and has kids. Wait a second...that's EXACTLY what it was. Um, I'm just as confused as you are.

Being home was good. We had two Thanksgiving dinners. One was with Grandma and Grandpa in La Mesa, and the other was with the Johnson and Diaz families in Escondido. Now I'm all roly-poly. Good thing we had a soccer game to work some of it off.

I also got to visit old high school friend Tiffany and check out her latest offering, "Obstacles." I'm so proud of her; when she's a famous singer/songwriter I'm gonna ask to be her manager or something. I also made it to the downtown area with more high school friends Erica, Ana, and Bethany. We ate at some Thai restaurant in the gaslamp and they helped me go clothes shopping. Always nice to get a girl's perspective when clothes shopping. I'm not a fan of doing it myself. Simon and I also got to check out the new Petco Park, home of the San Diego Padres. I say, "Money well spent."

Anyway, it's getting late and my Café Tacuba paper is waiting to be written. Time for over-evaluating the cultural indications of mid-90's Mexican alterna-rock. Yessss. Life is good.

Memories, Music and Metallica

There are certain things that for me have come to symbolize my growing up years. Y'know what I'm talking about; things like Micro-Machines, "Saved by the Bell," and slap bracelets. One of these iconic things for me is heavy metal super-group METALLICA.

Now anyone who knows me knows that I'm not really a Metallica fan, but I do have a brother that is. During the years 10-14 I was not only heavily exposed to this group and their music, but I was even stretched to learn to play drums to their songs as Simon would imitate James Hetfield's aggressive guitar playing.

Last night Simon, my dad, and I saw Metallica at the San Diego Sports Arena. It was all really a last-minute thing. In fact, I didn't even know I was going to go until the opening band (Godsmack) was probably already playing. The crazy thing is that we didn't even have tickets to the show. We ran up to the box office just a few minutes before show-time and asked for three seats. The guy at the window told us that the only ones available were nose-bleeds in the most upper sections. We paused to inquire a scalper what prices he had to offer when suddenly three 4th row seats opened up for a measly $58 a pop. (Mind you, this is METALLICA.) The box-office guy was irritated that we would even entertain the idea of buying from a scalper, but he was happy to sway us with sweet, sweet seats.

Quite simply put, Metallica is the biggest, best, and most important heavy metal band ever. Their show last night was nothing short of mind-blowing. Though Dad somehow managed to keep still, Simon and I danced the night away to "Enter Sandman," "One," "Master of Puppets," and over two hours of other songs spanning their two-decade career.

Last night was a good idea gone better. If you have any hidden anger anywhere in you that needs to get out (or if you just really want to see four demonic creatures go nuts on a rotating stage with fire, cannons and explosives) go see Metallica. Even better still, go get your dad to take you.