I went to the Green Day concert on Thursday and it was loud. They played their new album, American Idiot, from start to finish and it was good. Then they encored us with some of their old stuff, Longview, Minority, etc. Unfortunately I'm deaf now. Well okay, maybe not, but its close. Right after the concert I couldn't hear anything. Yesterday when I woke up I had this horrible hissing in my ear. It lasted all day. The second morning afterwards it got better.

Unfortunately I think I've lost some of my high-pitch hearing. Like I'm pretty sure I used to be able to hear the crickets in my house clearer and more annoying. It is good that they aren't so bothersome anymore, but it sort of upsets me that I've quite possibly lost something that I'll never have back, even if it wasn't particularly useful to begin with. I guess its just the fact that I know that I could've just not stood so close to the freakin' speaker during the entire concert but I figured the loudness would pass. How foolish of me. As much as I want to say that the experience was worth losing something that I wasn't using to begin with, I can't truthfully say it. But it was still a good concert. And I guess the saying applies, "If its too loud, you're too old." How sad, I'm getting old.

Green Day - Boulevard of Broken Dreams My favorite song on the new album. I also like Holiday, which actually preceeds this song on the album and are continuous when listening to it on the CD and when played live. They are listed as seperate tracks, however.

I haven't posted most of the summer. I can't give a good reason for it unfortunately. Laziness is the most likely suspect. But I've found that during the summers I've never had much to say because things sort of grind to a halt in my life. Without school I'm not forced to absorb new material or deal with new aspects of life. You would think that my job would give me more than adequate opportunities to do so, but I either haven't found them or they've gone ignored. But with school starting again and recent developments in my life I saw an opportunity to post.

First things first, about 3 weeks ago I turned 21. Everybody wanted to make it a big deal. My mom said it was a big deal because it meant I became an adult. I suppose I can't argue with that simply because in our society it is the symbolic passage into adulthood. After the 21st birthday, the next big one is 25, then just the decades after that. Turning 21, or any birthday for that matter, for me, has never been a big deal. I think some of that has to do with my own distaste for growing older and things changing. A sign of things changing is never good. Although I'm sure its happened, I can't seem to remember a time when I've desired becoming an adult or a grownup. Now that its happened, I can't say I totally desire to continue what I've attained purely by surviving childhood.

For my birthday, I just went out with my parents. We picked out a restaurant from the LA Times Restaurant Guide that was in Long Beach and I already can't remember the name of it. But I do remember that the Rack of Lamb was very very delicious. I'd go back there to eat again if the occasion ever arose for me to need a $30 dinner entree. I had wanted to go to Las Vegas on my birthday, simply because its the last remaining hurdle before I'm "legal" but I didn't really plan for it nor did I think it through and I never went.

But then a few weeks later, thanks to some cool people, I went to Las Vegas for some 21+ fun. We did some walking around and shooping (mostly of the window variety) and, of course, gambling. My first time as a legal in Vegas yielded mixed results. I lost any and all money I spent on slot machines and any sort of video poker. But I was drawn in by the lure of the roulette table. We stayed at the Rio hotel and they had the lowest minimum for roulette that I saw. The $2.50 minimum bets made it an affordable venture for me. This particular roulette wheel, however, came in the form of an electronic table. Rapid Roulette is its name. It was the same as regular roulette except that the bet placing is electronic, so all the dealer has to do is deal with is buy ins and cash outs, and spinning the wheel.

So the first night I played $20 and won $50 after being up as much as $80. Pretty good. The second night I quickly lost $25 and decided to play the other $25 I'd won the night before. That slowly left me as well. So even though I was up, I couldn't stop myself and just like all the warnings people give about gambling, knowing when to stop is the most important. But of course I couldn't, so I lost all $50. I kept hoping the number 33 would spring up and pay up big for me, but of course it never did. Then before going to sleep, I decided to play another $10 despite the protestations of those holding my best interests in mind. I won up to around $20 then dropped down to the $2.50 minimum bet. I put as much as I could on the number 33, staying the course as I had bet on it everytime previous. I didn't put all my bets on it of course, but every spin of the wheel had the number covered. Anyways, with a $2 bet on 33 and several other inside bets covering it, I almost walked away resigned to the fact that my money was gone. Then the dealer says 33. Of course I totally think that she is joking. But she did not joke me. Indeed I hit 33 and won over $90. A pretty good night, in the end. I went to sleep, knowing the next day I would go home.

But the next morning I rather quickly lost my $90, then another $15 on top of that. I can't say I was too depressed, because I don't think I ever expected to hit it big or anything. But checking out of the Rio without any winnings to show for was pretty sad. I then headed over to Ballys resigned to having lost already and watching a friend gamble at the Shooting Gallery slot machine. But on my way to the machine, I saw a $5 minimum roulette table and I just had to have a seat. I plunked down $20 and I fluctuated back and forth from about up $40 to under $10. But then I hit it big. My number 33 hit, I hit an 18, twice (although it hit on the wheel three times in a row, THREE! what are the odds on that, jeez?) and a $2 bet on 5, a friend's number, hit exactly on too. So after losing my money at the Rio, Bally's/Paris seemed glad to pay me back as I ended up cashing out at a super $232! I guess I knew when to stop this time. Plus, going home was probably a good reason too.

All that talk about the Dodgers a few posts back and believing in something outside of one's own life really began to show itself to me in Vegas. Las Vegas was full of people who saw the course of their lives (in the broad sense) on the karmic value of otherwise unimportant objects. I totally bought into it too, and why not? I mean if the roulette wheel changes dealers and I suddenly stop losing, who's to say that the original dealer wasn't the reason for me winning. Not to say that he/she was cheating my way, but rather, who is to tell me that my bet on #33 and our particular combination of cosmic identities together at that moment in time and space wasn't the reason I came up with a last minute $90 bet? Sure, perhaps this isn't exactly a proven theory like 1+1=2 and it isn't the same as saying Michael Jordan is a clutch basketball player because history has shown that 1+1=2 and MJ can and will hit shots when they matter most. But my adventures at the roulette wheel certainly haven't done anything to dissuade me from believing that my actions don't have some supernatural affect on my destiny, even if the idea is completely preposterous.

I guess what I'm saying is that people may claim to be unsuperstitious or that God's word is the way they live life or whatever, but when it comes down to it, that just isn't so. When a person's own future and/or especially money is on the line, they are just as willing to decide that one seat at the blackjack table is bad luck for them or the way they pull a slot machine handle is the winning way. People just aren't very self-aware, and others aren't willing to realize what may seem obvious to others, about themselves. Either that, or everybody lies to me. Probably that second one huh? Oh well, I won $230 and you guys can go suck on that for a while. And all the while, the Dodgers are still in first place, BIATCH!

Goldfinger - Radio

My mom has recently suggested to me that I take one of those aptitude tests to determine what profession I would be good at.  You know, where they ask you questions about what you like and tests of what type of things you'd like.  Anyways, I actually took one once at school two years ago, but I never went in to get my "analysis" of the results.  I can't remember why I never went for my appointment.  It was during freshman year and I want to say it was during that week I sprained both of my ankles and I couldn't walk very far.  But it was probably because I was lazy or scared (sort of) to find out, or both.  Some people (myself included, I suppose) would say that they don't like the idea of being told what to do in some version of a caste system.  And I'm pretty sure I'm against people being told what they can or can't be.  People should do what makes them happy, as far as occupation goes.  If they want something, work hard for it and go get it.  I know a lot of people who have picked their majors and they know they're going to be a teacher, psychiatrist, doctor, international relations lawyer or whatever and they've all got their respective majors in college.  Even some high school kids know exactly where they're headed.  Everybody knows what it is they want to do with their major, they all have plans, ideas, and if they don't, I couldn't tell.
 
Thats my whole problem.  I mean I'm doing fine in college, sure.  But in being a history major I hardly have a chosen profession once I get out of college.  And not taking the aptitude test, choosing such a broad subject to get my degree in and basically doing what I'm doing this whole summer, not studying, just working and fooling around, I'm merely prolonging my own future.  I've recently met enough nice people who have, unfortunately, seemingly hit a wall as far as their future's are concerned to serve me warning and being younger than most of them I thnk that I can avoid making choices about my own future, but I don't think I can get by much longer.  With graduation possibly less than a year away, this is the second to last, or possibly last summer before I make a truly life altering decision.  Otherwise I might be stuck in the same place for a looong time.
 
Onto other subjects.  The last few days I've been faced with people complaining about how they are unsuccessful at romance and love.  Multiple persons have brought up the fact that they cannot seem to attract a worthy mate, or even a mate at all.  I think that because of the way we've been raised, we're all taught that things will all be fairy tale endings and rides into the sunset.  Yes, it is rather ironic that I say that while still working at Disneyland, but its true.  Movies are few and far between that do not have the protagonist achieve his romantic goals (at least to a certain extent).  One of the persons told me that they want the person to like them for the person that they are, even though their relatives and some friends tell them they need to lose some weight and update their image (in kinder words, I'm sure).  Well its nice to think that and wish for that and I'll admit I totally used to be in the same boat, but really, its time to face reality. 
 
Stop hoping and wishing, you're still young.  Improve yourself.  Its natural.  Birds have fancy feathers to attract mates, other animals battle it out at the ol' watering hole with their kickass horns.  I'm not saying you need to be conforming to all sorts of stereotypical mating rituals in our society like being a supermodel or being slutty, but you've got to at least have the equipment to play the game, so to say.  I can say this for myself, and I'm assuming its true for others as well, people want to find a mate who likes them for "who they are" because in reality, they aren't really happy with "who they are."  What I mean to say is that the pipedream of having somebody love exactly who you are is really a longing to be validated.  Nobody is perfect, but people should try to improve themselves and just let the chips fall where they may in the other areas of life, relationships included.  I guess this is really to motivate myself as much as it is others.  I used to (and often still do) wish for things to just happen to me and for all of these things to be good, without me lifting a finger, but unfortunately, shit doesn't happen that way.  You've got to continuously try to become a better person.  I realize that now.
 
Sister Hazel - Your Winter

I went to play at Disneyland and California Adventure yesterday. It seems like I'm at Disneyland everyday, even when I'm not working. My next day off is Monday and I'm going to be taking my family there on Monday. But I love it, I think.

While I was there on Friday, I spent a lot of time watching other people. I try to do this whenever I'm in the park because I love to see families. But in particular smaller children. I mean from afar, children and their parents are so perfect looking. The parents could be drunks for all I know and the child could grow up to be a crazy person, but for that day, or hour, or 15 minutes, in my mind they couldn't be any more than they are right there. Like when I was riding the tram to the parking structure, a mom and her daughter were sitting in the row ahead of mine. The daughter yawned and the mom teasingly said "Don't go falling asleep on me. You slept till 10 today so you better stay up all the way home!" And the little girl said, "I'm going to goto sleep!" And they kept going back and forth, but in a cutesy sort of way. Anyways, I kept seeing children and their families all day long and it made me think, I want children.

But then I really thought about it some more. I do want children, someday, but maybe not for the right reasons. I suppose in the evolutionary sense, I want children to pass on my heritage, but realistically, I want children for the same reason I want a girlfriend, or I want to go to New York City. For some reason I have a strange sense that everything will turn around if I just get one break. Like somehow, by raising a child, or moving to a new city, or finding some girl that may or may not be the girl of my dreams will completely turn around my life, as though I needed to be saved from the horrible life that I'm leading as it is. This simply isn't true. Those things would not save me from my life or give me a kick in the butt, instead I think I'd simply adapt to them and continue plodding my way through life. I totally want to say that if I had somebody to love, like a child or even a serious girlfriend, I'd be completely devoted to something and change my ways, but I'm scared to admit that I might not be willing to and my life would continue on its current path.

This is all very weird, probably, considering my lack of intimate relationships with females. I guess I've been discouraged of late, having probably lost out on chances I should've taken, not learning my lessons. I think that I am more willing to at least feel for loving children instead of another adult because of the situation I'm in with my parents and their relationship with each other and me. But isn't that how it is with everything?

This is perhaps my most incoherent post yet.

Dashboard Confessional - Vindicated Oh yeah, Spider-Man 2 was really good.

For some reason I've avoided posting here for a while. I'm not sure why. Have I found something better to do? Not really. Has anything changed in my life? Sort of, but things turned out being the same anyways. But I figure since my last post dealt with the Dodgers, so too will this post.

I went to my fifth Dodger game of the season today. A day game versus the Angels. They lost, 7-5. In a season that began so promising at 22-10, the Dodgers have dropped their last 6 games, getting swept by the Giants at PacBell and losing the first two at home against the Angels and their bandwagoning Orange County fans. Where were the Angels fans three years ago before they lucked into a World Series? Hmmm, I don't know, maybe because there weren't any! The media (and particularly the Angels management and fans) make a big deal about the Angels drawing 3 million fans last year to the park. Yeah, not impressive. The Dodgers have drawn 3 million fans for I don't know how many years in a row now. So enjoy your gloating now because when the Angels fall out of playoff contention (probably not this year, or the next) and return to their toils in mediocrity of the past 3 decades, we'll see where you most of you Angels "fans" are. Plus, Gagne rules.

Lately I've been thinking about this whole sports thing. I don't know if I've said this before, but somehow professional sports, for me, has become a sort of experiment in faith. I'm sure many writers before me have been quite verbose on the subject and I'm sure my own experiences aren't unique, but I believe I've discovered something on my own. Sports, and being a fan of particular teams, gives me something else to put my hope and faith into, sort of. Like when I attend a game, I believe that I make a difference. I know, somewhere deep inside that I probably don't, but then again, deep inside, I want to believe that I do. Like I'll say, if I don't watch two games in a row because I'm at work or I just miss them and the Dodgers lose, somehow its my fault. Sure, if I'd watched those two games the outcome likely wouldn't have changed, but we'll never know, will we.

I realized these rather apparent revelations while reading one of my favorite childhood books, In the Year of the Boar and Jackie Robinson. Its good, go read it. It won't take you more than a day or two, even if you read slow. In the book, our hero Shirley also happens to be a Dodger fan:

"Every time Number 42 came to bat, she imagined herself in Jackie Robinson's shoes. Every time the pigeon-toed runner got on base, she was ready to help him steal home. And when Jackie's sixteen-game hitting streak ended, Shirley blamed herself. On that day, she had had to accompany her parents to greet Mr. Lee from Chungking. Obviously, it was her absence from the radio that made all the difference."

Obviously. So you see, by having baseball, I can somehow transfer my own hopes onto the shoulders of others and be superstitious while claiming not to be in other facets of life. Yes, quite hippocritical on my part but eh, whattya gonna do? Maybe thats why New York is a better city than Boston, the Yankees always win, making their people happier, while the Red Sox... well, yeah. As much as sports fans want to deny it, I think this faith in a team as a representative of one's own hopes is a big part of sports and I, for one, am glad to participate in the myth. Go Dodgers!