THE CITY

It's the city ya'll. Mid week sorrows are starting to come in today, knowing I still have another few days until I am relatively free. I feel like an inmate whose looking forward to the yard, it's like you're not really out of it, you just have a quick break while within it; it being school. Oh yeah and Thanks to Coldplay for making the 10 minute breaks between my classes feel well spent other than walking or biking.
Today Rico and I are on a mission to Marshalls and Ralph's but first we make an appearance at Lindsay's where shes kicking it watchin....umm... The Omen. Her ACL is doing fine, so is she I guess, just don't ask her to defensive slide anywhere.
After all that fun, the journey began in the most inner-city-ish store that I really know, the discount clothing store. This one happened to be Marshall's but we soon headed to Ross too, but these stores are stocked with the strangest things, probably because if something isn't sold it still stays on the rack and things just pile up. We found this sick giraffe costume, but we don't know if Tiffany would fit in it or not. Oh and to all the stores out there, bring back flannel!
Rico was searching to look thug during soccer, but his skills will have to be the only will and testament to his soccer status for now as we couldn't find him any legit shorts or socks that would gain respect in the soccer community.
We found this though, no idea who would collect these, but hey I guess it looks cool. The city is so eccentric.
Bikes line every dorm, lecture hall, and library in school; With the road bikes commanding the most respect, and for me, especially the fixies. We saw some kids rocking their bike in old, rich La Jolla-ian traffic which could prove dangerous, especially with cops being so vigilante about bikers around here. One day the city will run on two wheels.

On the way back from a relatively unsuccessful mission, other than the fact that we got some stuff from Ralph's, which I'll go into later, Rico stopped by the Sixth piano room to drop some note on Chopin's Revolution. This man is sick on the ivory, or in this case the poorly painted white wood.

88 keys play the tune of the city, Revolution.

We stopped by Rebecca's suite as she hasn't invited us over yet until now, and since we're close, what the heck why not. Obviously Brittania wasn't too happy to see us, just kidding she's just pretending. Rico says the apartments over there are like inner city apartments, looks okay on the outside, and a little cramped on the inside. The only thing that was missing was the viena sausages being eaten with catsup and someone selling hair cuts. Here's Ricardo with a hand-typed second account of what went down in this apartment(take this in, this is his realllll typing, a realllll literature major kids; Take notes): 

We walked into the apartment.  my first impression--poverty.  to our right, a rusting sink, where the girls brush their teeth, lamented its existence.  two unwelcoming doors stood next to each other on the opposite side of the sink.  the doors had shoeprints and broken doorknobs, perhaps a metaphor--the prints, for their struggling lives; the knobs, for their broken dreams that not even the golden key of knowledge can open.  we carefully walked down the stairs.  as we walked down the stairs, the pungant smell of death hit us.  judging from the red markings on the walls, i could only tell myself, "something has died here."   at the bottom of the stairs, a modest-sized living room greeted us.  the couches looked second hand; the torn fabric of the couches only suggested domestic violence.  ten feet away from the living room, a small kitchen constructed of no more than a petite yellow gas stove and an old porcelin sink stared out the window, hoping the sunlight will, someday, unveil the reality of the 1200s way of survival.

Better than Blake hall in Revelle though I guess. These guys are always making the best out of their situations, so they're living pretty well for city folk. Rebecca and Brittania have made their flat pretty nice though, so props.

Fiores per mi amore.

Oh so we laced up Rose with some proper gear in the form of handlebar tape. The white is just so sick, if she didn't catch eyes before she will now.

Thanks to everyone who helped my bike get to where it has now, including Casey Quinn, Ricardo Gonzalez, and everyone else, oh and Chris Lim for giving me the first ride ever on a fixie.

This isn't the same night, but the next night Rigo's was in order because I was wayyyy too hungry wayyyy to late to settle for campus food, so the gang Volvo-ed over to Mira Mesa for the best food we've had in a long while.

Rico still ponders those long nights where he wonders if the city will ever have the hero it deserves.