January Mix

There were a couple of reasons why I started Everybody Loves You Here. Other than serving its purpose as an avenue for my writing, ELYH was also supposed to serve as an avenue to post updates on various gigs I shot, my personal photography, some fashion, art and music. In ELYH's early days, I did all of that regularly. As of late, it has just been my work and photography (even though that has been waning, not for a lack of material mind you, I'm just into writing at the moment), and my writing. That troubles me a bit but it is something I can fix and fix it I will. Now. 

I listen to a lot of music. I have a voracious appetite for it and the range of music is pretty wide. Here are 13 tracks that have been garnering heavy rotation on my iPhone during the month of January:

Zero 7 - Don't Call It Love (12" Version)
Wild Belle - Another Girl
Unknown Mortal Orchestra - So Good At Being In Trouble
Janelle Monáe - Dance Apocalyptic
Cat Power - Manhattan
Classixx - Holding On
Chella - Romanticise (Le Bruce Remix)
The Phoenix Foundation - Sideways Glance
Jamie Woon - Lady Luck
Camera Obscura - Trouble Maker
Wild Nothing - Nocturne
Fitz & The Tantrums - 6am
Marshall Crenshaw - Someday Someway

PS

I love polka dots

Coachella 2014

There's always a lot of talk and hype whenever news of their lineup goes public. There are a lot of names this year, much like there are in previous years, and though I will not be going, these are the bands I would go out of my way to see. 

Day 1

Outkast (but ONLY if it's Southernplayisticcadillacmuzik/ATLiens Outkast. The first notes of Hey Ya! and I'm out of there)
The Knife
The Replacements
Chromeo
Neko Case
The Afghan Whigs
Jaguar Ma

Day 2

Queens of The Stone Age
Pharrell Williams
Pet Shop Boys
Nas
Warpaint
Washed Out
Blood Orange
Cajmere

Day 3

Arcade Fire
Beck
Disclosure
Lana Del Rey (yeah I said it)
Möterhead
Little Dragon
Laurent Garnier
Fishbone

Honorable mentions worth checking

Day 1

Outkast (just to see until I hear the first notes of Hey Ya! and then I'm out of there)
Girl Talk
Haim
Aloe Blacc
Dum Dum Girls

Day 2

Empire of The Sun
Fatboy Slim
CHVRCHES
Foxygen
Holy Ghost!
The Internet

Day 3

Calvin Harris
Classixx
Surfer Blood

That said, I really wish they somehow get a Smiths reunion for a future lineup. Then again, I probably would rather see them in a smaller setting than a festival. 

A Brand New Day

The soft crackle of a dying campfire and the rhythmic splashing of water coming from the near by lake. The campsite, lit only by the light of a full moon. A rustling of branches and leaves breaks the serenity of the pre-dawn morning. 

He walks, slowly, as not to disturb her from her sleep just yet and stands there briefly, observing her snuggled in her sleeping bag much like everyone else is, sleeping by the campfire. 

Crouching, he gently nudges at her at first. With no real reaction, he nudges her just a bit harder until she groans. Her eyes, slowly opening, she has her first sight of him and begrudgingly curses at him. "What the fuck," she says. A morning person she is not. "Wake up. We have little time and I want you to see something," he tells her. 

Earlier that evening, while the group had all gathered by the campfire, socializing and having a good time, he sat there, observing, like he often does. Watching people is one of his favorite activities. This practice was one of a few that helped train him with his passion for photography. 

From across the fire, she saw him, in his little moment. There was something about seeing him in this moment that interested her. It was unique, in an odd way, and she has always been attracted to the oddities within people. She stood up and walked over to him. "What's wrong? You look a little lost," she says to him. Caught off guard, he gives a wry smile, almost nervous, "Yeah I suppose you can say that. Half these people I don't even know and the friends I came with are...who knows." Without asking, she sat down right beside him and began talking. She's always been one to take charge of a situation. He likes that about her. 

At first it was just idle conversation, with the both of them giving a bit of their history. He once studied philosophy and wanted to teach it until he was introduced to Nietzsche which "fucked up" his whole "outlook on life at one point," as he likes to put it. She on the other hand hated philosophy and mocked him for voluntarily studying it. Her passion lay in the science of astronomy which just so happened to be one of his favorite subjects and from there, they talked about all things above them, getting lost together in the heavens. Eventually, they both returned, back to matters of the mundane. "So, tell me, do you like long walks on the beach?" she says jokingly, "Are you a sunset kind of person or a sunrise kind?" He laughs at first, getting the joke, before replying "I'll tell you later."

It's been nearly an hour since they both left the safety of the camp and out into the darkness. Exhausted and annoyed, she asks how far they have left to go. "Where's your sense of adventure?" he replies. "I'm beginning to wonder if it was worth getting up or not," she says. He assures her that it will be, "at least I hope it will. We're almost there. Won't be long now." Not long after, they reach his chosen destination, atop a peak south of the camp ground. The sky is still dark. He checks his watch for the time. As he takes a deep breath and exhales, he sits down and looks towards the east where he can barely make out the valley down below and the surrounding mountain tops. 

She takes a seat right beside him and tries to make some small talk. "That was a brisk hike wouldn't you say?" she confesses. He doesn't reply. A comfortable silence falls on them. One might say it was an awkward silence. It's not that he has nothing to say, he's merely waiting. With nothing being said, she keels over and lays her head on his lap, resuming the sleep she was abruptly awoken from. She's an open soul. Definitely not shy. Yet another quality of hers that he's fond of. 

Shortly after reaching the peak, the sky begins to slowly brighten, showing a nice gradient of color, from orange to shades of violets and blues. Sensing that the moment is nearly upon them, he softly whispers in her ear, "Dawn is coming. Open your eyes," which wakes her from her short nap. As she wakes up, the first light of the sun helps her focus from the blurred vision she's experiencing. She can now see the mountains surrounding her, and the vibrant green of the farms down below in the valley. 

"Sunsets are cool I guess," he says, breaking the silence. "They're pretty spectacular but they say little to me." He goes on to explain that people are at their most vulnerable at night, when they're asleep. Tomorrow's never promised, so when you're able to see a sunrise, that means that you've survived the night and you live to see another day. "Not only that, but with every sunrise, a new day begins and with each new day brings new experiences and adventures," he goes on to tell her. "So with that said, I guess you can say I'm a sunrise kind of person."

She now understands fully, why he woke her up so early, that it was important to him, for her to see and experience this moment. Something happened last night. A connection was made. A new adventure awaits, one he wants to experience and one he hopes she's willing to come along and join him in. Saying nothing, she lays her head on his lap once more, and with his hand on her arm, they both take in the warmth of the new sun, eagerly awaiting the new day. 

The Swallow

It's rather out of place for me to be here. The subtle scent of weed emanating from somewhere out back whifts through the air. The incessant whirring noise of the gun is intimidating as I watch the grimacing faces of the people getting some part of their body done in ink. I'm not even here to get a tattoo.

I was asked to accompany a friend today to get his sleeve finished at a tattoo parlor in Los Angeles. My canvas is clean and free of tattoos so being that I have never been to one, I thought it would be interesting to take in the experience. I had nothing else better to do.

As I looked upon the various framed examples of tattoos hung up on the walls of the store, like every parlor I've happen to pass by does, a woman manning the front desk strikes a conversation with me. She asked me if I was "here to get inked." I react with a nervous chuckle and reply "no, I'm just here with my friend. He's the one getting a tattoo." Like clockwork, her next question was whether or not I had any and I quickly reply with a "no." As conversations progress, as they normally should, she asks if I had ever wanted to, or plan on getting one. "I've thought about it," I reply, "but I never had the will to go through with getting one. Not that I'm afraid of whatever pain is involved in getting one. I'm just one of those people who would rather appreciate art on someone else's body rather than mine."

Believe me, I've thought about it before. I understand the reasons why someone would want to get a tattoo but it just never was ME to get one. If I ever was to get one, I was always fond of the swallow, namely the Sailor Jerry type swallow. It's a little weird that I want one. Those tattoos, historically, were worn by sailors and I'm no sailor. I've been known to get a bit sea sick almost half the time I'm out on a boat in open water so there's no symbolism behind the swallow for me in that sense.

From what I understand, another legend behind the swallow tattoo, is that it represents not only freedom, but no matter what, the swallow always returns home at some point or many points and I like that symbolism because that is pretty much who I am as a person. Now, I'll be the first person to say that astrology is a bunch of hogwash but the descriptions of who Sagittariii are, have been 70% correct about describing me. I pulled that number out of my ass fyi but you get the gist and I digress.

I like to seek out new adventures, no matter how mundane or exciting they may be. That is why I consider every day to be new and I try to take it by the proverbial horns and take it all in. I'm not afraid to go at it alone either. Sure, experiencing something with someone else is fantastic and ideal, but if no one wants to have a go with whatever it is I want to do, I'll go out and experience it myself and I've done a lot of experiencing in my life and they've all been great regardless of the outcome. Every now and again I just feel like I need to go some place far and escape for awhile. In the end, however, I find myself coming back and not because I have to because I never really HAVE to. I want to.

There's also the sense of loyalty with the whole "returning" legend of the swallow and I'm very much that. I'm fiercely loyal to the people I regard as friends and family. Once a person has my loyalty, there is very little that can break that and once you have my loyalty, you also have my love and respect and it comes unconditionally. I'm not sure if that plays with the whole Sagittarius thing but I can say that that is me. That's who I am and that can never be changed as that's my soul, the essence of who I am.

Of course, there are other legends behind the swallow tattoo. Mainly for sailors such as if a sailor dies at sea, the swallow would carry his or her soul to heaven and the like but that doesn't speak to me. Not a sailor.

I tell this girl the same thing and we converse at length about loyalty and other similar matters for the duration of my friend's time on the table. During one of those comfortable silence moment, that break in a conversation where both parties are soaking in what's been said, she smiles and breaks the silence by asking me where would I place this tattoo. I thought about it for a good minute or two. I don't want it hidden. I wear my heart on my sleeve so why should I hide something that has a great deal of symbolism to me. Sure, some place on my chest, close to my heart, is a no brainer but I want people to see and maybe those who will see it might know why I got it. "The right side of my neck," I reply. "You know British sailors wore them on their neck sometimes," she says, as she goes on about the story of swallows taking fallen sailors at sea into heaven. "I just want people to know the strength of my loyalty and love."

Between the needle and nightfall

These long and cold winter nights. A half finished bottle of Malbec sits next to an already emptied one. The sound of the crackling wood of the fireplace, though comforting, needed some complimenting. 

He half drunkenly gets up from the warmth of a blanket and walks towards the record collection that he has amassed through his years. Alphabetically ordered, he goes through his treasured list of artists. Adele, Bobby Caldwell, Frank Sinatra, The Cure, Johnny Hartman and The Beatles are just some of the names that caught his eye but none of them offered what he was looking for. Running down the list, he comes across something that he hasn't heard in a long time. It's a great time for Nostalgia. 

Upon reaching the letter M, there was an artist that always warmed his heart. Morrissey was one of his most beloved artist. One album in particular, introduced him to a whole new world than what he was used to growing up as a teen. He carefully pulls the album from its spot and gently removes the vinyl, examining the grooves and checking for any defects. Unsurprisingly he finds none as he takes great care of his record collection, keeping the quality of each record in pristine condition, no different than the day he bought it. 

Vauxhall & I was his first introduction to Morrissey and upon first listen so many years ago, he immediately fell in love and his love would ultimately lead him to discovering The Smiths. 

He places the record on the Pro-Ject Debut Carbon 2M-R record player and drops the needle on the first track and through the McIntosh speakers, with a clarity rarely heard, plays Now My Heart Is Full. A fine song to start his emotionally charged musical journey tonight. 

Like curator, he picks up the needle and jumps from song to song, skipping the ones that doesn't suit his mood and selecting the ones that do. The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get reminds him of the high school crush he had on a particularly obscure girl who also happened to be a fan of Morrissey. He would always hope and dream that whenever she listened to that song, by some chance, she would hear his voice and finally see him. Sadly, nothing came to fruition and his crush remained just that, a simple yet heavy crush. A contradiction if ever there was one. 

He moves on to his next curated selection, Used To Be A Sweet Boy which brings back fond memories of growing up as a child. Wondering what happened to him through the years, he yearns for that child like innocence and ignorance again. That would certainly make the world more palatable. 

Finally, he gets to the song that speaks best to his feelings. Earlier in the evening, an argument between him and a friend had ensued and things that should never have been said were. As he listens to Hold On To Your Friends, he finds truth within its lyrics and normally he would be the better person to let some stuff slide after everything boils over and be forgiving but not this time. Troubled by the prospect of losing a friend, the one idea that keeps him firm on his decision is that he's done far too much for this person through the years and it seemed to him that this was a one way street type of friendship. People say that it would be wise not to burn your bridges but after thinking it through, he's come to the conclusion that he would never walk through this particular bridge again as he's already headed towards a different direction. 

Later in the evening, long after Vauxhall & I had finished its play and a third bottle downed, his phone rings. Looking to see the caller, he finds it to be his former friend. Thinking about picking it up, he smirks as a fleeting memory of a  moment involving a group picnic on a lovely Spring day flashes in his mind and he lets the call go to voicemail. 

Ice skating with my loves

The moment the skates touched the ice was a precarious feeling. Something wasn't right as it didn't feel natural. "I'm already here and there's no backing out now," I thought. Fear, still residing in me, with thoughts of the various ways that things can go wrong, I made my first push with my leg and slid across the ice nervously while staying as close to the rail as I could. "Fuck it. I wanted this."

I've never ice skated before in my life. Never had experience roller blading. The last time I was on any type of skates were when I was 8. It's been a long time. 

I had the bright idea of going ice skating for my birthday a couple of weeks ago while I was driving around Woodland Hills. I saw the rink as I was on Topanga Canyon Blvd. and thought it would be a grand idea to share a new experience with the people I love. After setting the plans and details in motion did it occur to me that I was probably in over my head. 

The day of my birthday, just hours before the skating was to occur, I took it upon myself to learn just the very basics of ice skating so I jumped on YouTube and looked at the various beginner how-to videos to get a better idea of what I'll be doing. It looked easy enough. Bend your knees and push your legs to the side to move forward. Rocket science it was not. I got this! 

I didn't really get it. 

I clung onto the railing as much as possible. I had to. For one, I didn't know how to ice skate. Second, everyone in the middle section of the rink were moving at a much faster speed! The more I spent getting used to being on the ice with skates, the more I ventured towards the middle. I'm not saying I was skating at the same pace with the more seasoned people. I wasn't. The farthest I went was probably a foot away from the railing/wall. That's as adventurous as I got. 

As I got (somewhat) comfortable skating, I started to really enjoy myself and took in the whole experience. I really loved my time on the ice and I would like to go again before the season ends and the temporary rinks disappear until next Fall. I really want to get this skating thing down. 

The bigger story, however, was sharing the night with my friends. Watching everyone laugh and have a good time was what made the night most memorable. I love watching my friends when they're happy. Seeing and experiencing that alone was a gift in and of itself. 

Some people measure their success by the amount of money they've accumulated, the things they own etc. and those are valid ways to measure success but I'm of the school where my success is measured in the quality of people in my life. My friends and family are my estate. I'm not sure what I've done to have amassed so many great people in my life that I'm proud to call friends. I must be doing something right. 

Anywhere But Here

It'll be a couple of weeks before he sets foot inside this room again. What was normally a disgusting, grime filled dirty floor, is now clean one, mopped just a couple of days ago. There was still a bit of dust but the floor was as clean as it could possibly get. The large table, sitting in the middle of the room had only but a handful of newspapers. Quite a different scene than the still tied bundles of issues that would normally be sitting on it. He's going to miss this place.

The day called for one last final. A typed up critique of a class he forgot to drop due to a long weekend. Some drinking may have been involved but it couldn't be helped. An F grade was probably awaiting him in the end but it's of little consequence. Not being a fan of failure, he never is afraid of failure. Regarding it as more of a learning experience than a reflection of the work he did or didn't do at least, and what he is possible of doing at best. Besides, how does one succeed if one fears failing?

With his critique of the class done, he did his best to stay inside the room for as long as possible trying to avert the inevitable. Small talk here and there with the remaining students in the class about their plans for the winter break and the upcoming Spring semester as well as his plans but alas, the time had arrived for him to leave. "See you in the Spring," he said, as he closed the door behind him. At least it was a beautiful sunny day.

There's a little tradition he observes and practices, almost religiously, after the end of anything meaningful. Head some place far and quiet to do some reflecting. Normally he would venture out on the metro go some place local but luckily his sister has gone on vacation and he was left car sitting. Distance wasn't a factor, nor was it important, he was all about the journey. So he took to the freeway and started driving south at first, through the winding road and hills of Topanga Canyon and onto Pacific Coast Highway where he proceeded north and he kept driving until it transitioned to the 101 freeway. Throughout the drive, he thought of possible places to stop on the way to wherever the hell he was going. It wasn't until he drove past Ventura that he remembered of a place that would be perfect for him to just take stuff in.

One day, a few Summers back, he attended a beach party with his friends in Carpinteria. One of the reasons why they picked this beach was because you were allowed to drink alcoholic beverages which isn't allowed on most southern California beaches. Perfectly seasoned carne asada was cooking on the grill, the sun shone brightly, enough to warm up the sand to be able to walk on without burning your feet and the countless drinks that were had. After the end of what was a great day, walking up the incline that lead back to the parked cars, he noticed an empty park bench sitting atop the hill, overlooking the beach and pacific ocean with the sun setting behind the mountains in the foreground. This moment, needing to be captured, he lifted up his trusty Diana camera that was loaded with black and white film and took a photo. A photo which now hangs in his room. This moment captivated him, promising to come back one day.

The sun was nearly setting when he finally reached his chosen destination of Bates beach. Quickly parking his car, he walked over to the park bench he remembers and it was nearly the same as he last saw it. Other than this day being much colder than that warm Summer day, the bench was empty and the sun was nearly in the same position but this time just sitting atop the mountains. He took one second to take in the sight just before taking his place, and sitting on his bench.

Thankful for what has transpired for him the past couple of weeks, he starts thinking about the many friends he made, some who have become dear friends to him, and the friends that were lost. Of those lost, he managed to regain some of them and for that he feels fortunate. The semester has made him into a stronger and more experienced person as he learned of what he is able and not able to do along with new found weaknesses and strengths. With little regret and a heart nearly as full as the day, he takes one more look at the sun, now nearly eclipsed by the mountains, before leaving his bench once again until another day comes when he should find himself back at this same moment.

So comes and goes another day. With all that he has learned, the next semester looks promising. As he leaves Bates beach, the thought of seeing his friends again and getting back in the grind of the newsroom a couple of weeks from now is the one thing that keeps him at ease. February just seems so far away.

The Never Said Goodbye

Everything in the house was in a state of peaceful quiet. It's late in the night and 3 hours till the sun rises on a new day. There was a lot on her mind and she couldn't sleep. The uneasiness has relegated her to the task of watching him sleep. She was left wondering whether or not he was having a pleasant dream. She hoped so. He looked so tranquil. Little did he know that he was in for a surprise when he wakes up. That, she knew for sure. 

Circumstances outside her control left her with little choice but to leave for good. She's a fighter. Always doing what she could to make this work but she always felt it was a one way street. She hates goodbyes and a part of her still wanted to be in his life but she knew that when all is said and done, this was for the best. Everyone has a tipping point and she has reached hers. 

With the dawn nearly upon her, she takes one last look at him before leaving. Never having said goodbye nor leaving a clue or reason, under her breathe she apologizes for her weakness.

As she walks out the door and into the waiting cab, she thinks "he'll be fine", not realizing that thought was to comfort her more than anything else...

Featured Dubbler

So for those that don't know yet, there's a mobile app out there called Dubble. As of right now, I think it's iOS and I'm not sure if there's an android version. Anyway, I was featured this morning on their blog and it's kind of awesome. 

You can check out the feature interview here: http://life.dubble.me/post/68966878033/spotlight-on-mohammad-over-in-la#.Up9YrJm9LCR

A Taste of Me

Cars swiftly passing by as I sit here on a bench awaiting my bus to go home. Despite me wearing warm inner clothing, it isn't helping much during this cold night as the chilly gusts of wind hits my face like a constant slap. I'm in a mood. Not in a funk, let me be clear on that. It's weird. I'm a bit relieved but at the same time bittersweet.

It was a long day today. Deadline Tuesday coming off thanksgiving weekend and it's our last issue. We all worked hard through the day and I'm wondering if anyone else felt a looming dread that this experience will soon be coming to an end. This semester with The Roundup newspaper had its ups and downs inside and outside of the newsroom. But when all is said and done, we all did our best and I speak for myself when I say I'm proud of our work. I'm quite sure everyone else feels the same way. 

It won't be the same next semester. Some people are leaving and some are staying. New blood coming in and respected members leaving. I'm interested to see what next semester brings. I'm excited for our new EIC and managing editor coming in yet I'm saddened that the current EIC will be leaving. He's put a lot of blood, sweat and tears throughout his tenure. It's somewhat apt that his anniversary date of him becoming EIC is a few days away. We still have the rest of this week and next week will be our banquet and finals. After that, I will miss my colleagues, nay, friends, until February when the Spring 2014 semester starts. 

We technically missed deadline today but we made it to print by 4pm. I had to leave immediately to get to work and I wanted to give a proper goodbye to everyone in the newsroom but I kept it simple and quick since I didn't want anyone to see I was at a breaking point, saddened by reaching the end. 

On my way out, I was greeted by a fairly cloudy sky but a break in the clouds made way for a scarlet sunset. As I walked into the sunset, I threw on my headphones to hear a song I come up on my mix that I haven't heard in a long time and since my exit from the newsroom, it's been on repeat as the beauty in this song is so powerful. It was a nice tune to leave something behind even if for a short while. 

Before starting this entry, I decided to google the translated lyrics of this song as it is in Spanish. It tells the story of a man that fell in love, out of, and back into, with a woman. He sings that the experience they both shared left an endearing and eternal taste on each other's soul. Despite them being apart, the speaking of her in memories would suffice for him. He ends the song with a humility I can relate to. 

I think I got the meaning close. The more I think about it, the more I feel like this song can be just about anything and everything happening within my sphere. Why it just happened to play as I was leaving the newsroom is beyond me. Maybe some odd coincidence. Whatever I felt leaving the newsroom that left me empty, I felt right as rain as I smiled walking across the always muddy soccer field of a Pierce College while listening to this song. 

Such a scarlet sunset.