Monday, June 15, 2015

Day Zero: Senior Breakfast, I Talk To Red Books

6/15/15, 10:07 PM PDT

(Note: I'm still getting used to the blog being back up again, so the first few days probably aren't gonna be too photo-dense)

So today, on my last day of compulsory, government-mandated school, we had our senior breakfast. For non-high schoolers or my readers in foreign countries, it's basically a breakfast with our entire high school class that's more or less an excuse to have the entire Class of 2015 do one last thing together before we go into the real world. The cold, cruel, frightening real world.

If it's anything like MTV portrays it to be, we're all screwed.
(via wikipedia.org)

I would say that it's surreal that today would be the last day of something I've been a part of for the past four years. I would say that it'll be strange to imagine not having to wake up at 5:45 AM every day, plow through six straight hours of school, pass out at home for a few hours, and start homework at 8 PM. And I would say that I'm gonna miss seeing a bunch of people on a regular basis.

But I skipped breakfast today and I was starving, so none of that was going through my mind. I was just thinking about the food. The delicious, delicious food. I didn't grab any pictures, but they had bacon, scrambled eggs, breakfast burrito stations, omelette-making stations, and some weird apple-cinnamon thing that looked gross but tasted delicious.

It sort of looked like this, except more syrupy and less appetizing.
(via guavarose.com)

And it was ALL YOU CAN EAT. Which meant my famished little stomach was very very happy.

They had a bunch of activities too. There was a photobooth (which of course, my friend group and I hit up).

It took me two pictures to realize that the camera wasn't
on the ceiling.

And a flipbook, which my friends also indulged in.

It's supposed to be an allegory to nature's inevitable triumph over mankind
or something.

There was also DDR, which we played, and karaoke, which we did not do because 90% of the time it was playing Nickelback and our requested song, Party in the USA, never came up. In hindsight, I think it was a good decision not to sing because if we did, we probably would have ruined the entire senior breakfast for everyone. Because everyone's eardrums would have been ruptured.

A cool thing they also had was this one dude promoting a movie called "Me and Earl and the Dying Girl" and it looks pretty damn good. I haven't really heard a synopsis or anything of the film, but based on the guy's mumbled spiel, the fact that it's a Sundance Film Festival Grand Jury/Audience Award winner (which Whiplash was also a past winner of), and all of the free merchandise we got, I'd say I'm pretty hyped about it.

And I mean it when I say we got a lot of merchandise. We got posters...

More to decorate my room with.

Shirts...

I'll be wearing this during finals week in UCLA then.

And this dumb looking box.

Unfortunately, it does not contain embarrassing pictures of Spongebob
at the Christmas party.

But what was in this dumb looking box? A FREE SELFIE STICK! AWWW YEAH.

Or, as the kind women at the convent call it, the Vanity Pike.

Here we have the lovely, Berkely bound Kurtland Chua demonstrating its length.

A natural born Vanna White, huh?

Pretty glad I got this thing. I'm probably gonna use it as a ghetto crane for films and stuff, as soon as I find a way to either make my hands less shaky or stabilize the camera. I'll figure out a non-selfie use for it someday, promise.



Later today, the squad and I (with "squad" being defined as Angela, Kayla, Christina, Gwendolyn, Samantha, and Nick) went to the movies to go watch Insidious 3. I think the scariest part about that entire movie was the fact that I drove there. I suck so much at driving, I swear. I can't wait until robotic cars are the norm, I hate driving so much. In UCLA, as long as I have public buses, trolleys, a scooter, and my own two feet, I will be a happy, happy boy.

We also hit up the local Barnes and Noble, as is standard in our film-watching escapades. A few days ago, Christina found this ritual online that involved a red book and allowed us to communicate to ghosts or spirits or Mexican demons or something. But basically, the gist of the ritual was that you'd grab any red-colored book, ask a question, flip to a random page, and point to some text and whatever you pointed to would be the spirit's response.

So we did that at Barnes and Noble with an assortment of red books.

The first red book we tried got some pretty tepid results. The demon we contacted didn't really wake up on the right side of the bed, so it said we couldn't play and we went on our merry way. It was when we got to this cookbook where things got interesting: 

It's red. It's bound like a book. It checks out.
(via simonandschuster.com)

You know, for a cookbook, it had very feisty responses. It started with an innocent "Are you a boy or a girl?" Then, one thing led to another, and eventually I figured out what she (it was a she-demon, a shemon) was wearing, I figured out that she liked it when I pressed her covers, and I landed myself a date with a cookbook this Friday. Sorry Sam, but I've got a hot date with a hot, hot demon.




RFotD: In a ranking by U.S. News & World Report, the Paleo Diet ranked last in a list of 32 diets. The traits used to compare the diets were healthiness, weight loss, and ease of following.

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