Connections

My old friend Jamie Mulhern (go check out some of her art, I love the Apple Series especially) has spent the last two weeks trying to track me down. While it is true that I have spent the majority of my free time the last several months slowly working on redeveloping things with the boy, I have also been a bit reclusive, largely for other reasons. After several emails, phone calls, and texts from Jamie, I finally called her back. I only waited so long because I honestly kind of enjoyed having a bit of a stalker. It’s flattering.

We had made plans to meet at 9:30am this morning at Inside the Bungalow (formerly Coffee Talk) in downtown Mesa. I rolled my self out of bed at the ungodly hour of 8:45am (late night with the finance crew the night before) and packed up my laptop in my messanger bag (I know), somewhat excited at the possibility of re-discovering Inside the Bungalow and their free wifi. I used to come here quite a bit when I lived on the complete opposite side of town, but haven’t made time to come down here since I moved 1.5 miles from it over four months ago. My plan for the day was to meet Jamie for coffee here and then spend a good portion of my Saturday doing some writing and homework. An idle Saturday reminiscent of my previous year letting days slip by at Coffee Rush in Gilbert. I arrive a bit early, and come to find out they are closed. Closed Saturdays and Sunday. On every weekday they close at 3pm, except on Wednesdays, when they stay open until 10pm. I text Jamie, and she agrees to pick me up from the corner of Main & Robson, at which point we venture a couple blocks east to Posh Nosh, another downtown Mesa cafe and coffee shop. They are also closed. We drive down to a cafe further along Main. They are also closed. By now it’s approaching 10am on a beautiful Saturday morning, and three coffee shops in the area are closed. Yet, everytime I pick up a local Mesa-area paper, there always seems to be an article about downtown’s fledging “resurgance,” and how downtown just can’t get a grip on it’s economy, largely due because they have trouble attracting people. Hmm could it be because everything (except Milano’s, God bless them) is shuttered during peak “chilling” hours? If the downtown Mesa economy sinks, don’t cry for them: it’s their own damn fault.

So, not to be deterred, Jamie and I then proceed further down Main to a reliable little restaurant that has become a regular stomping ground for Arica, Justin, and myself: Valley Eatery Diner Restaurant (that’s the actual name of the place, or as we call it, Adjective Cubed). Jamie and I catch up, we reconnect, we talk a bit about people we don’t talk to a whole lot of anymore, and about life.

What about life? Her recent trip to Paris and Rome. My recent schedule. I acclaim to her that I’m in my last four weeks of the semester. She acclaims to me that she’s taking her art more seriously. Her galleries are proof. I eat my French toast, she drinks her coffee. We give hugs to our waitress, Misty. The owner chastises me for arriving with somebody new, not with Arica or Justin. We leave, and Jamie drops me back off further down Main. She goes to lunch with some friends, I drive into Phoenix to work some overtime to help with Christmas fun. I will be returning home to Mesa soon, where in between texts to the boy that’s currently in Payson, I will resume a weekend-long homework extravaganza, which includes, but is not limited to: five hours of study guide material for psychology, going over stress and chemical dependency; a take-home photography quiz and a 100-image composition assignment that is supposed to carry a theme; a report on the Career Colors assesment, also for psychology; three readings and journal entries for history; and the creation, execution, critique, and report of a custom-designed five-course meal for cooking (pain-in-the-ass electives!).

None of this includes my sidework that I hope to get to this weekend, if nothing more for a break, that includes the quarterly, Book2, another side book project that may be starting, a couple freelance assignments, picking out my schedule for next semester (due next week), and my 40+ hour work week as a financial officer. So with all of this, have I decided on if I am actually going to pursue a career in journalism, writing, psychology, or a mix of two or three of these? I don’t fucking know.

Revelations

For my psychology class, our instructor had us take the “Career Colors” test (careercolors.com, $25) so we could asses what kind of job we should go into; where our true talents laid. After spending about an hour on the test, it was determined that I should be going into something artistic, or invegstigative, such as reporting. Huh, go figure, eh? It also said that I do not like repetitive, seemingly endless office work; administrative tasks; and manual labor. I had no idea! (Drippy sarcasm). So you can see, too, I copied how much the Career Colors test seemed to match what I already knew:

CAREER INTERESTS

Public Service 0 The Sciences -7   Engineering -42   Business -28   Management 0 The Arts 42   Administrative Support -7   Sales -28   Service -35   Outdoor -49   Construction -56   Mechanical / Electrical -56       Dislike Neutral Like

Losing Tradition

According to today’s OC Register, The City of Huntington Beach is closing up another chunk of it’s history – it’s legendary skateboarding culture past. Going the way of the hostel, Java Jungle, The Longboard Pub, the old downtown Main Street, and The Shorehouse is The Huntington Beach High School Skate Park. The popular park – one of the most famous in the country – was a municpal property that still drew skaters from all over the world, including the likes of Ed Templeton, Tony Hawk, and Sean White.

Maybe someday they’ll be able to cement up the ocean and use that for commerical redevelopment, too.