Wednesday, January 20, 2010

trying to re-live a bit of the past

isn't it pretty to think . . that rallying up your old group of friends to do something that used to be so easy for you to do as 17 and 18 year olds could be as easy to do when you're 23 and 24 years old too?



2003


In high school, my closest friends and I used to call each other the Huntington Crew: Darlene, Felix, Mikhael, Pamela, and me. This name sprung from the fact that during the junior year of high school, we all took AP Art History with Ms. Graham.

In fact, Pamela loved the class so much that she later went on to college to study Art History and aspired to be Ms. Graham . . while that dream was never reached because of other BIGGER aspirations (which I will mention later), this just illustrates how seriously we took that class . . as we did many of our classes because we were a bunch of nerds and didn't care if people thought that being nerds was a bad thing.

Anyway, one of the things that we had to do as apart of the extra requirements for the class was a to visit an art museum. Many students went to the San Diego Museum of Art, in beautiful and scenic (and romantic) Balboa Park. Other students went to the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego, tucked in the hills of (bougie ass) La Jolla. But us, we were the overachievers the true connoisseurs of art (or at least, crap we thought was kinda artsy).

Looking back, we were a bit arrogant . . probably to mask our nerdiness.

So one day, it just so happened that the five of us were sitting around (I would say we were eating lunch, but I almost always ate lunch in the ASB room) and realized that none of us had completed this extra requirement for the class. I don't remember who's brilliant idea it was . . but someone suggested to drive up to Huntington Library for the day to fulfill the requirement.

Like a bunch of dorks, we were all really excited.

Mikhael picked us up one by one in his mom's camry, without telling his mother that he was actually not just going to hang out at Felix's house . . but was actually driving up to Los Angeles. Darlene's mom packed us some snacks, which included cheez its, pudding cups, and many other scrumptious things. Pam's mom bid us farewell . . and then we were off.



After a day of being swept to sea by Hooper's The Long Leg, admiring the calligraphy of the Gutenberg Bible on vellum, joyfully reciting the prologue of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales (as we were forced to memorize by our Advanced American Literature teacher . . in old English) as we looked over the original, and running around the Botanical Gardens . . the five of us had made a special bond.



On the drive back home, the bond from the day was only strengthened by Mikhael being pulled over by a "chip" on a sneaky motorbike (thank goodness he only got a warning for speeding), conversations about stolen first kisses (and ex boyfriends/girlfriends that, already at our tender age, we knew we just didn't need around anymore), and taking shots of wax bottle candy to the day and our youth.



[side note: while doing research for this blog post, I found a huntington post blog entry with the wax bottle candy as one of the 9 Grossest Kinds Of Candy No Adult Should Give Out On Halloween. I think we'd highly disagree with your choice . . but only because of the sentimental value of the candy. Not necessarily because of taste.]

That day resulted in not only annual trips to Huntington (until our schedules were so tough, mostly because of me and my constant summer school and summer organizing) but also some fun outings like this really fun Hot Hot Heat concert at the scene -- one of the best concert venues in San Diego . . until it closed down because of the opening of (bigger and more "mainstream") SOMA San Diego.

The last time we took a Huntington Trip was during the summer of our first year of college. I admit, this was probably my fault. Second year of college, I directed SASC-SI. Third year of college, I was taking like 12 units during the summer before going to Thailand for a year. Right after graduation, I moved to DC for an internship.

The last time all five of us were together . . I don't even remember.

It's a little harder now. While Mikhael is back in San Diego . . Felix is now in Chicago for school . . I'm in Washington, DC for work . . Darlene's in New York City for school . . and Pam, well Pam's back in the convent in Nashville.

That's right. The five of us live in five completely different states (and a district).

Last time, the four of us (that were allowed to make contact with both genders) couldn't even get together during the holidays for brunch.

We've been trying to get together for another trip for years . . so naturally, when I saw Coachella, I sent it out to the group.

Unfortunately, it's looking like:
. . Mikhael might not have the vacation time to go all three days.
. . Felix might be returning to Chicago from taking the quarter off.
. . It would only work for Darlene if she has spring break during that week.
. . And Pam . .

Well, I don't know much about Catholicism . . but I don't think nuns are allowed to like indie rock, much less go to and camp out at a three day festival . . even if Pam used to be the one girl I could count on to start a circle pit with me or the one girl I always crowd surfed with.

Maybe I'm romanticizing my high school years and the Huntington Crew a bit.

Maybe I'm not.

Maybe being 17 and 18 years old, weathered and jaded by some pretty bad relationships yet set with some pretty bright futures was pretty fucking amazing.

Maybe as 23 and 24 year olds, despite being weathered and jaded by even worst relationships and needing a "Huntington Crew" trip more than ever . . we've also racked up some bigger responsibilities and have physically made it less possible.

So how do we remind ourselves: Slow down. We're still young. Take a break. There's no rush. Reflect with friends. MAKE time.

How?

How do we make what used to be so easy to do when we were 17 and 18 years old . . something that is POSSIBLE even when we're 23 and 24?

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