The craziest thing I have ever done recently happened.  I did not plan it, I didn’t even know that I where I was going and what I was doing until I got there.  In the middle of nowhere in the rolling hills of what I think is San Diego, there was a discreet operation of dare devils and aerialists at work.  When we arrived, I was totally surprised and blown away.  I could not do anything besides smile and think, “Am I really doing this?!?!?!”

We signed our lives away, and the waiting game began.  Under a large shade tree, on a crooked bench, we waited, waited, and waited.  There was ample time to back out and run away, however, we persevered and finished the waiting game to victory.

After two hours of waiting, we were finally suiting up in the brightly colored parachuting suits, harnessing into our life-saving straps, and meeting the person of whom our lives hung in the balance of – literally.  Amped up and adrenaline pumping, we were more than excited and more than terrified at the proposition we had so eagerly signed up for.  We continued to wait until our small single engine airplane was ready to take up a diverse group of ten.

When the green light was ready (figuratively speaking) we all headed to the runway and hopped onto the simple bench in the plane as quickly as we were to jump out of the same plane.  Strapped in and heart-beating furiously, our air mobile jetted down the runway and straight up into the blue skies.  We kept going up, up, and up.  the fifteen-minute flight seemed like forever until we finally reached 13 thousand feet. When we reached our target altitude, the guy sitting right in front of me confidently lifted the plastic sliding door of the plane and propped himself for a minute in front of the gapping hole until he felt it was high enough to jump!

Surprised by the speed and reality of jumping out of a plane, I immediately started freaking out. The first tandem group jumped and then it was my turn.  Freaking out.  I hesitantly moved over to the door.  Gripping my vest with the security of never letting go, I put my head back on my instructor’s shoulder and braced myself for an experience that would take my breath away.

Jumping out of the plane, I could not hold the uninhibited need to scream and release all of the tension of this insane experience.  Falling, falling, falling.  I could feel my face peeling away from me, the ferocity of wind pushing against my entire body, the inescapable breath of calm air as the instructor pulled the parachute and our quickly falling bodies came to a drastically slower speed.  Gliding through the air, hovering so high above the earth, we could see for miles and miles.  The view was amazing and the experience absolutely irreplaceable.  Back and forth, around and around, we drifted slowly back to the firm, solid ground that seemed so secure after such a traumatic ride.

Skydiving has been the most exhilarating experience I have ever been through.  I am quite confident I will do it again, but until then, the thought of what I experienced that afternoon will continue to put a huge smile on my face and goosebumps of excitement all over my body.

Thanks M!

It has been forever and I have not added anything new to this long lost blog. I think beginning today, I will be taking a new approach to this blog.

“the pursuit of quality in a fleeting life”

That has been my mission statement for this blog, however, I have failed to recognized that quality is just the mere fact of living life the best we can. Therefore, I will now concentrate on those things that bring quality to my life. I will challenge to recognize a new quality of life that will be an indicator for the true value of the combined total of our experiences = life.

Today, I would like to recognize that it was a celebration of my aunt’s 25 dedicated years to God. An amazing devotion and a true role model to us all. Thank you Aunt Cecilia for teaching us about patience and self sacrifice. We love you so much!

First, the car rumbled like a tractor mowing across the lawn.  In my case, I was trying to mow across the speeding freeway ahead of me making my way with only the most minuscule sense of motivation to actually move.  Coming from someone who has driven a Lexus, and even the cheapest model in the Toyota Corolla line for that matter, I could barely achieve the efficiency of a 90 year-old grandmother.  Either from the engine being ill-fitted or the glass windows too thin to block out the exterior noises, the radio paid little consolation to the roaring metal compelling my own existence to proceed.

Second, the car lacked all functionality.  From the manual headlights to the radio having to be turned on and off upon entry and exit, my irritation for such simple niceties in life could not have been fulfilled.   There are no graces when the car is locked, rather a resounding honk from the car horn.  There is no finesse when the ignition is lit up and the car is still in complete darkness, only waiting for your resolute command to turn on its lights.  There is no sweet melody to the radio greeting you when you turn the car on, only silence until you have settled into the faux leather seats and decided to take away the pain with the countless commercials played on public radio (but that is whole other on its own).  Thank goodness I am not in the wild heat of summer, or else I would have scalding third degree burns on my entire backside.

Lastly, the vehicle (if it so chooses to call itself that) simply had NO style at all.  I understand that the American way of life has certainly moved far ahead in its time, however, the engineering in this vehicle was eons behind its consumer.  The car simply has no style.  From the color of the car that only a five year-old Hot Wheels collector would appreciate, to the grossly uncomfortable interior that would rival those of rides at Disneyland, I was severely disappointed.  The car looked like it wanted to be on the race track, but was laughed off of it because it was trying too hard.

I can promise even if I were to receive an American car for free, I would not dare drive it off the lot.  I would immediately sell it to the next best bidder.  I’d also throw in a prayer because after such a crappy purchase, they would want to run the car and themselves over a bridge.

the key to luxury.

A few months ago, I was lucky enough to spend a couple nights that the renowned monument, The Beverly Hills Hotel.  Nicknamed the “Pink Castle,” this is where all of the whos whos and whats whats of the entertainment industry stay at when they are in town or just want to escape from the city.  Well anyways, on to my experience.

We drove up the nondescript driveway up to The Beverly Hills Hotel and tucked behind the jungle of palm fronds lies a beautiful hotel with the classic charms of old Hollywood and vintage movie stars that have stayed in the same bedrooms.  When we walked into our executive suite, I was just floored with the number of luxurious appointments and various amenities that the hotel provided.

The Polo Lounge is a staple of Beverly Hills and our dinner there was dark, charming, delicious, but not to par with the reputation that it carried.  Although it was late, we did not feel like being ignored and helped by twenty (more like four) different people.  However, on a positive note, the roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and baby carrots were delicious.  Even more so was the chocolate souffle that was the perfect night cap.

The following day, I woke up early and went to the gym.  Amazingly, each of the cardio machines had their own twenty-inch touch screen tv!!!  After an expensive breakfast in our room, we finally ventured out of the hotel and explored the Miracle Mile in LA.  We explored the various genres of art at LACMA.  My favorites were the pieces by Andy Warhol and the giant balloon-esque sculptures of Jeff Koontz.  By the time walking just became too much, we headed back to the hotel and went straight to the pool.

The sun finally decided to show itself and what an amazing pool.  Small, concise, and festering with the good-looking, the foreign, the celebrity, the adolescent, it felt so surreal being there.  Waited on by a staff of cute girls in white shorts and sunglasses, I have never had such a pampered aquatic experience.  After a couple hours of sun, sweat, and the salted pool, we headed back to the room to get ready for dinner.

Dinner was had at BOA restaurant on Sunset.  It was a delicious melody of steak and veggies served in the finest setting.  The service was great and the wait non-existent because we had to eat so early.  Valet is right on the street so accessibility was superior.

The evening ended with third row seats to In The Heights.  Wow is the only word to describe the level of theatricality and awe of the seats, theatre, and acting that we experienced.  Refer to my previous posting for more details.  “The height-light of my day.”

The morning brought another day of breakfast in our suite and a delicious one at it.  We packed our things, checked out, and headed over to Rodeo Dr.  Although most of the stores were closed because of the holiday weekend, we still perused those that were open and drooled over  many objects of desire.  The sunlight and smog-induced air were refreshing and relaxing to suburbanites.

Until our next Los Angeles adventure, au revoir!

(The amazing Pantage Theatre as produced for The Phantom of the Opera, from 3rd row)

It seems that in life, the theory of “The Bell Curve” is everywhere.  Especially present is when we are faced with the trying subject of life.

Recently, I was audience to an amazing performance of Andrew Llyod Webber’s The Phantom of the Opera.  The Pantages Theatre was as gorgeous as ever, the stage as dramatic as the costumes, and the crowd as varied as the fish in the sea.  Noteworthy, however, were two more matured women who were seated right behind us.  Inept to the world beyond their hearing aids, their commentary and dialogue intermittently dispersed throughout the show dampered the spotlight placed on stage; however, allowed us to enter another that was just as curious.

What intrigued me the most was not necessarily their pestilent commentary, but the implications of “the bell curve” applied to life.  As a child, we are born with the innocence to environmental awareness.  We say stupid things, act out of context, and possess the most minute awareness of those around us.  Then, we progress from that stage and live the bulk of our lives with astuteness and the observational skills that allow us to mingle with normal civilization.

Eventually, we reach the peak of our lives when we approach the downward curve of life’s bell.  In the case of these two women, it is more important not to dwell on their specific position in their own bell curve, but to focus on a greater theme.  These two women were so endearing in their shared love of theatre, their close-knit relationship that has kept them close through all that they have experienced, and ultimately, the signs of a life well lived.  Their commentary although hard to endured at time was compromised by the joy that they were privy to by attending this show.

The crowd around them did not say anything, they didn’t even pay them attention.  We all simply (and silently) hoped that one day, we can share in the same joy and happiness of the theatre where we can say whatever we want because we deserve to.  Bravo to The Phantom of the Opera and Brava to these two women!!

(The amazing cast)

(Pray a little more, love a little more.)

I don’t necessarily know what I was thinking when I titled this posting, however, it reminds me that life is gonna suck at times, but not ever enough to end it so suddenly.  It is not my intention to make this blog about personal beliefs and controversy, but I’m going to do it anyways.

Recently, in my “regular” reading of news on the Yahoo! homepage, I read a story about a young adult who had committed suicide because of a malicious act that was perpetrated against him.  I am especially troubled by this story because it was such an intrusion of a basic human right – privacy.  An unassuming roommate cyber-blasts this young man’s intimate interaction all over the internet for all of his peers and the rest of the world to see.  Unable to cope with the humiliation and public reveal of his sexual orientation to those unknown, he decided to tweet his final act “Jumping off the gw bridge sorry.”

When I read this story, I was moved to tears because of the insensitivity of humans to other humans.  As a child, I was taunted for my minimal stature, my delayed change in vocal tone, and my overall appearance; but I felt that if I excelled in other things, academics and otherwise, I was worth something.  However, for this 18 year-old, nothing else mattered or amounted to enough to keep him from jumping off that innocent bridge.  This is such a tragic act of humanity that I am ashamed to share the same breathing space with such monstrous people who would do such vile acts.  If I can plea for anything in this case, I would only wish for two: (1) the harshest and most severe of punishments for his actions (much more than the maximum of 5-years that they would get for invasion of privacy.  I firmly believe they should be charged with involuntary man-slaughter) and (2) for everyone to who hears this story and reads this blog to love a little bit more.

We are on this earth for such a short amount of time and for these things to happen is not only a tragedy for this young man’s family, but for the rest of the world.

For more details on this story: http://www.mtv.com/news/articles/1649057/20100930/story.jhtml

(Got my eyes set on Vdara)

Saturday was began at the unsightly hour of 11 am.  The sun was up and blasting its harmful UVA and UVB rays directly at us as we remotely opened the shades to our second day in Sin City.

(Oral Heaven at The Buffet at The Bellagio)

We eventually made our way to the Bellagio buffet and began a wait that would rival that of Black Friday in front of Best Buy.  An hour an a half later, we were finally treated to the plethora of edible options that awaited us.  We gorged like we had not eaten for the last year to the point way past gluttony.

When we got back to the hotel, our oversized bellies were dying to catch some much needed sunlight.  We headed to the pool for some Bud Lights and a lot of relaxing.  One of the main objectives of going to a Las Vegas pool is to “people watch.”  Not necessarily needed to be in quotes, but necessary in importance.  There were all types of people at this chlorinated watering holes.  The foreign, the grenades, the hotties, the docile, the hairy, the snobby, the variety is endless.  Certainly repulsive at times, but entertaining nevertheless.

(Yes, that is the guy with a line in the song "Bedrock." You know, Lloyd.)

As with every Saturday night that we spend in Las Vegas, Saturday night is reserved for the sacred act of partying.  This time, we went to Haze and after a nice time spent in line; much less than for the buffet earlier that day, we paid the cover and headed straight for the bar.  Nothing like dousing money spent with more spent on alcohol.  Haze is a wonderfully large nightclub with a great variety of attendees, a large upstairs, and an exciting dance floor.  The highlight of the night was the opportunity to see Lloyd perform his one line in the hit song “Bedrock” and other various songs of which I was not familiar.  We eventually had to leave the club with some new awesome memories, but how I got back to the hotel room supersedes me.

Onto Sunday….

(The view from paradise)

The saying goes that if you’ve got something good, then hold onto it for dear life.  This annual trip with old friends really goes to show that no matter where we are in life, the best of friends can always reunite in the city that never sleeps and hash out the stresses of life and just have some plain old good times.

We left at the usual time of Friday afternoon as we headed for the barren desert to begin our adventure in the city of lights.  When we got to Aria, we were amazed at the size of our one-bedroom suite with views in every direction. Thank goodness that the windows were only one way.

We went to see the Holly Madison show, Peepshow, and were amazed at the choreographic talents of scantily clad young women.

We then headed to the shady part of town – Downtown Las Vegas.  I can only say that when all else fails and all your friends ditch you (which didn’t happen to me, thank God) stay in the light.  I lost $50 bucks playing Wheel of (non)Fortune slots and decided to call it a night.

A few of us got back to the room at the wee hours of the morning and what else is there to do, but to take a bubble bath.  With views of the city, a bottle of indistinguishable liquids, and a mountain of bubbles; that was the recipe for happiness.  We relaxed, laughed, and swore our losses till the rest came home.

On to Saturday…

(Up-close and personal.)

In all my 24 years, I have never had the pleasure of sitting front row to such a spectacular show – KA.  The engineering, the theatricality, the excitement was magnified to the tenth-degree.

However, I must speak to the past before talking about this more recent experience…  A couple years ago, I went to see this amazing show with a large cup of Adios and a bag of popcorn.  Little did I know that that combination was not enough to keep my attention after being drained from an afternoon of aquatic activities (aka the pool).  I missed a few things, but I got the jist of the non-English spoken show.  The main difference was that we were seated about half the auditorium back.

Moving to this more recent visit to the KA theatre, we were seated dead-center in the FRONT row.  There were no other seats of greater proximity to the action that was happening all around us.  Left, right, front, back, and above us; there was always something happen that put us near the grips of death.  On multiple occasions, I felt like I was going to be struck in the head by fabric, weapons, or anatomical limbs being swing in every which way.  There was fire, wind, smoke, sand, fog, and every other prop being tossed our way.  It was such a surreal experience.

(Seriously, so close.)

This excursion was certainly more memorable than if I were sitting front row to a stripper (not that I have ever had the pleasure.  No, really, I haven’t.)  When in doubt, book front row.  Good Luck!!

(Yummy.)

There is nothing more relaxing than baking in the dry, sensual heat of Las Vegas.  This was our first official day in the city of entertainment and we were basking in the ambience (aka sunlight) at the amazing pools of The Palazzo.  The blended drinks come very light so either share with the kids or be sure you have enough to get a few for yourself.

(No, it is not Kermit.)

After a few hours at the pool, we were ready to for dinner and where better than one of the best steak houses in Las Vegas.  Located at The Wynn, SW is a superb restaurant with a fantastic view.  In addition to an expensive menu and an open dinner patio, the restaurant is nestled next to a beautiful waterfall that also acts as a curtain for the whimsical mini-shows that entertain guests every 30-minutes.  Dinner and entertainment – excellent!

(Filet Mignon, Mac&Cheese, Creamed Broccolli - To only die would be a dream.)

(La Reve. Magnifico!!!)

Then later that evening, we were treated to the magnificent production of La Reve – fourth row!!!  This show was absolutely amazing and of course, I caught myself on several occasions with my mouth wide open in awe.  I have never seen anything that had so much theatricality and inspiration.  I HIGHLY recommend to everyone to go see this spectacular show at The Wynn.  NOTE: Picture taking is not allowed in the theater.

Our first day came to an end – only to lead us on to the second day of adventures.