Wednesday, February 29, 2012

The Grand Canyon

 Came across some pics from last summer...




Planking (when it was cool) and looking almost a mile down!!!


Monday, February 27, 2012

Adding Another Trophy to Our Case

Soccer has been a way of life in my household. I have so many stories about championships, game-winning goals, great comeback wins. All are so vivid in my mind and make me feel good about myself and my accomplishments. Unfortunately, my soccer days have come to an end. But, my little sister is keeping the tradition alive. She has great stories, and this particular one is one of those that will just stay with us for a long time...






Two games Saturday and one game Sunday morning determined whether or not a team would play in the semi-final. Culver City (my sister's team), breezed through those three games. They won them all with ease, none of the teams posed a threat to the Culver girls. So they moved on to the semi-final, which was to be played on the the worst field possible against Chino. The field had gopher holes, dry patches of grass, and dirt everywhere. It was a physical game that ended 1-0. The Culver girls pulled it off, yet again! Unfortunately, they lost their leading scorer to an ankle sprain; she stepped into one of those damn holes on the field, and missed the rest of that game and the championship.


The semi-final ended at 3:20 p.m. The final was to be played at 4:00 p.m. It wasn't much of a rest. No rest at all when one takes into consideration that they had played 4 games in a day and a half leading up to this fifth and final game. Exhausted, sore, some in pain, the show still went on. And boy did it go on! What a game it was! 




Twelve girls on the Culver side. Eleven on the field and one on the bench as a substitute player. The game was against a Culver rival-- West Torrance. They last met in a tournament that was played during the Thanksgiving break. W. Torrance beat Culver then. They kicked ass and took names (or how does that saying go?). The game started. And for being tired, Culver was showing lots of energy. So much that they were up at half time 1-0. The second-half started, and this time Torrance came out stronger, more energetic, and with a strong willingness to score. Things fell apart for Culver quickly. The team made a mistake, letting Torrance come back into the game. The score was 1-1. Things got even worse after that. Everything was going down hill. The score was now 1-2. Torrance had all the momentum. Five minutes left in the game, and as usual the Culver coach (my dad) kept calm and played very strategically. I had faith Culver could still pull this off. Two minutes left and a corner kick in our favor. I remember saying to myself, "This is it. Here it comes!" The ball was kicked into the mass of girls in front of the goal, and somehow the girls managed. They tied the game! What a comeback! The parents went crazy (as usual). True determination and teamwork. Despite how tired they were, despite how much pain they were in, despite that they were losing and that time was running from them, they never quit. The Culver girls had done something special. The whistle blew. And what was to come next, is something that players dread the most-- penalty kicks.




At this point it was anybody's game. There wasn't too much confidence in the Culver goalie. But, she silenced all doubters. She blocked 2 and paved the way for Culver to have the opportunity to win. It came down to this last kick. A Culver girl went up to the penalty mark. Her body language read confidence. It was a good sign. Everyone was holding their breath, clenching their teeth, grabbing hold of the person next to them, and, being cold as hell, shaking like crazy. Everything was in slow motion now. She took a few steps back with her eyes fixed on the ball, and paused. The whistle blew and she kicked it. Culver won! They made the comeback, and accomplished what they had set out to do! But, most important, they gave all the Culver fans on that very cold Sunday afternoon a game to remember. 



 :-) 




Champions!

Sunday, February 26, 2012

UCLA



The thought of me possibly studying here just blows me away. Having dealt with so much adversity, this never seemed possible. Hope to be here Fall 2012....






My Letter Poem "Tell Me"


Tell me. How do you make it seem so effortless? In a sea of people. In a sea of utilitarian things. All hiding behind gray clouds. You emerge. You capture my eyes and all I can see is you. They march but you stand. Marching to get to where they go to learn what they already know. Why must life be a process? You eliminate all my insecurities. Nature being consumed by this utilitarian being. You’re the last bit of natural beauty left in my world. I hope you see yourself as useless. Useful things bring uniformity. With a beauty like yours, you should illuminate. Broaden the narrow focal point in which everyone sees. Is it too soon to tell you I love you? I rather stay as I am. Looking from a distance. A distance. Oh how distant we are. Nameless beauty afar, I write to you to tell you what I am thinking, what I am feeling, and, above all, to tell you to remain the way you are.

The morning gusts of wind bring me your unfamiliar scent. I enjoy it, and want to bathe in it. Cleanse myself. The Sun shines on your delicate and smooth, curvaceous and undefined shape. Your figure, so unfamiliar. And your garments. Crafted by hand? They sway freely with the slight movements you make. You’re colorful. And your color gives color to my grayish days. Your chest a canvas. Lovely place for art. I see a heart. Are you in love? A heart breaking from chains. Who are you? I feel you, though I know nothing of you. I want to know you. Your name.  Must be pleasing to pronounce. I love you more with each breath. If you were to look my way, I wouldn’t know what to do. But, I do know what you could do. There’s so much about you. You’re different. I hope for the world to be more like you. Overtime. Sometime.

In the distance I see you. In the distance no one else does. Or cares to. I write to you to tell you I think I love you. Don’t find it strange; just take it as a compliment. A butterfly in front of me. Uniform and mechanical caterpillars all around me. Biting at me. But you broke my routine, and made me see something I am not use to seeing. Crafted by hand. Who and/or what determines what is good for me? What is beautiful for me? Is it in output? Money? You are priceless my dearest and mysterious beauty. Multi-dimensional. True definition of happiness. Not a thing. Womanly. I hope you write me back. As always, I will be here.

Sincerely,


Your Distant Admirer

Friday, February 24, 2012

Cruisin' Culver City

(michaelreyes)

Even the biggest and brightest star must descend at some point.
But there's always a tomorrow for it to rise up again.

Zero Gravity!

(Getty)

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Neruda Imitation Poem

Tonight I Can Write
Michael R.



Tonight I can write the happiest lines.


Write, for example, “The sky nestles the stars and the stars pulse and glister in her eyes.”

The wind carries the transparent love through the infinite sky.

Tonight I can write the happiest lines.
I love her, and I hope she loves me the same.

Nights like these I hold her in my arms.
Her irresistible lips meet mine under the stream of nightlights.

Impossible to look into those eyes and not see the joy of the night.
She loves me, and I hope I love her the same.

Her voice matches the gentleness of the night.
Her body bright, and falling onto mine like the Sun to the horizon.

Tonight, and every night, I can write the happiest lines.
To know that I have her. To feel her intimacy.

An empty pasture, not so empty with her.
The distant stars, not so distant beside her.

What else matters? The night is beautiful and so is she.
That is all. 

We wish, if this to be a dream, to never wake.
Or if this to be nature, to never sleep.

A dose of love relieves lonesomeness.
Love seems eternal. How to keep it that way is the question.

Because I have just found love, there are more verses to write.
All about our natural love, these are the first lines I write for her.