For the 4th I flew up to join my brother and parents in Santa Cruz and we had a fun, frantic time. Ian and his friends showed me around to their favorite bars the night I flew in and I was shocked to discover that all the dive bars we visited allowed smoking despite the risk of fines from state authorities. They weren’t just turning a blind eye, either—waitresses and bartenders would hand out ashtrays as needed. Who would have thought that sort of thing would fly in the granola capital of the world?

The next day we spent several hours at Panther Beach while Ian and Christine stuffed us with wave after wave of grilled delectables. I took the opportunity to break in my new d50, the results of which you can see here. I’m incredibly glad I picked up a 1A filter before I went up; the ocean air was so moist and salty that a layer of dried salt would build up on the glass within an hour of cleaning and I would have lost my shit had that sort of wear been inflicted on my actual lens so early in the game. Anyway, the SLR has kept my photo-boner turgid, but with work and everything else I can’t find enough time to go feed my cravings. In due time, I suppose.

Sad story of the day: I went and checked out this bike yesterday and it was super sweet. Exactly what I needed for the commute downtown, and mega-sexy to boot. When I called the owner back tonight he’d sold it out from under me less than two hours prior. Goddamnit. The hunt continues.

On a cheerier note, I flew out of San Jose the evening of the 4th and saw my share of fireworks displays as the plane circled and gained altitude over the city. Large, municipal displays (of which I spotted maybe a dozen or so) would pop like pea-sized bubbles and the entire city was covered with small, rapid, backyard strobes that combined to form a twinkling blanket that covered miles and miles of metropolis. It reminded me of a stadium filled with camera flashes, only multiplied a hundred-fold across the landscape.

Olga Vasquez, who teaches my COHI 100 class, is awful. She should not be teaching. People snicker and hiss during class (and it takes quite a bit before your average Communications student realizes something is wrong with a lecturer), and in defense of her, my TA cited her PhD from Stanford in our discussion section last week. If this bitch can get a PhD from such a prestigious institution, education has seriously lost its value in this country. We’re talking serious inflation here. I’ve decided to pursue a septuple-PhD from Yale. It should be a cinch.

At the end of April I went to San Jose/Santa Cruz/Capitola with Utako. I saw Mike, Jesus and my little brother. We had much fun.

Before class today I went to La Jolla Shores with Utako for some quick kite-flying. My pants are still damp up to my knees, but the beach was pretty and it was a nice way to start the day.

I want a nap.