My Spanish Vacation.
On Wednesday, my parents and I got back from Barcelona, Spain, in what was one of the most unique and special vacations of my life. The entire experience was very eye-opening. During this trip, I conquered my fear of flying, went on a funicular for the first time, got a bad case of the stomach flu, ordered tapas in Spanish, and watched a flamenco dance performance right at my hotel. I came home a different person from the man I was when I left, just eleven days ago.
Before we even boarded the plane at LAX, I had already carefully researched the equipment and specifically selected the seat I was to occupy for the roughly eleven-hour journey to Zurich, Switzerland. From there, it was just a short puddle-jumper flight to Barcelona. For those of you who do not know, I used to have a fear of turbulence on planes. However, there were so many constant bumps on this flight that the fear basically broke itself. I am calling it the “hair of the dog” approach. You have no idea how enabling and empowering these flights were for me. By the time we were whizzing back to Los Angeles on one of the latest Airbus A350s, the fear was so long gone that when there eventually was some turbulence, I actually enjoyed it. It was like I was on a ride at Disneyland, without a care in the world.
Spain itself was enchanting. I loved everything about it, from its beautiful architecture, to its friendly people, to its delicious churros dipped in piping-hot chocolate. We stayed in two hotels: the first was called the Hotel Continental Palacete, which was sort of by the main thoroughfare titled La Rambla, and the second was called the Hotel Nouvel, which was situated in our favorite part of the city, named the Gothic Quarter. Walking down the streets of the Quarter was like going back in time. It is impossible to accurately describe this experience in words, which is why I have attached the picture below.
On one of our last full days in Spain, we decided to journey up to Montserrat. For those of you who do not know, the name Montserrat means “serrated mountains” in Catalan, which is one of the two languages that most Barcelona residents speak. The view from the monastery near the top of the mountain was outstanding. The environs were so peaceful and green that I envisioned, next time, staying at the local hotel simply to detox, get in touch with myself, and write to my heart’s content.
Towards the end of the trip, I contracted a nasty bit of stomach flu, which has now basically resolved. It was my first time getting this illness in a long while, so I was very unprepared for what to expect. What I did end up concluding is the following: when I look back on this special vacation in the years to come, I won’t remember feeling crappy a few of the days. Instead, I will only recall how privileged I was to be able to bond with my parents during this excursion, and how rewarding it was to be able to explore the remarkable city of Barcelona for the very first time.
A pedestrian’s perspective of the Gothic Quarter.
What It Feels Like to Have COVID.
A week or so ago, I tested positive for COVID for the very first time since the worldwide pandemic began. I used to think I was above the Coronavirus—I used to think I was invincible. I have been vaccinated a total of four times, and, like many others, I just assumed that the worst days of COVID were over. I had obviously stopped wearing a mask. Then, just a few days ago, my whole world was torn asunder when I saw two condemning little red lines on my test kit, indicating that I had the virus. There was nothing I could do but quarantine immediately, and hope for the best.
I was recently in Las Vegas with my friend Anthony for his thirtieth birthday. I must have been exposed to my COVID strain there. While on that vacation, we went to a couple of nightclubs, and coincidentally, the morning after our escapades I had developed a rather throbbing headache. I dismissed it as a symptom of mere dehydration and tiredness. However, once I made it back home to Ventura, my parents politely requested that I take a COVID test, and you all of course know what result popped up.
My symptoms have been fairly boilerplate so far. After my initial headache had subsided, my sinuses became plugged up. After that, I developed a bit of a sore throat. Then, while eating Chipotle, I noticed that I had temporarily lost my sense of taste. My dad told me that this is normal and to be expected. As I write this, I have transitioned into what I firmly believe is the final stage of the virus, which just involves a general sort of lethargy. I am anticipating testing negative, for the first time, sometime within the next few days. It is very hard for me to compare COVID to the various other illnesses I have had, because I have discovered that it is a different animal entirely.
My number one response to getting this virus has been to aggressively quarantine. I would be very upset if anyone else got COVID from me. My parents have been thoughtful enough to make meals for me, and place them on a tray outside my bedroom door. I have been making sure to get a lot of sleep, and, almost right away, I politely requested that my dad procure some Gatorade, so that I could stay hydrated. Whenever I do leave my room, I make sure to don a protective mask. I have been keeping busy by doing some leisure reading, and watching one of my new favorite shows on Netflix.
To be honest with you all, my number one feelings during this time have been frustration and disappointment. I am very ready to test negative, but so far, all my tests have come out positive. However, I do not want to complain, because during this time I have really been able to get in touch with myself. Being alone has been very relaxing, and it has in a way been refreshing for me to take a brief break from my various duties and responsibilities.
There are multiple lessons to be found here, in my humble opinion. Firstly, I discovered that no matter how careful one is, or how much they do right, they can still be susceptible to the virus. Getting COVID does not make you a bad person. Additionally, an individual’s “worst case scenario” (i.e. getting the virus) is often never going to be as bad as they are wont to make it out to be in their imagination. Patience is, of course, a virtue. I also have found that, when I have been ailing, I have been able to appreciate the love of family and friends more than I otherwise may have if I were healthy. It is always good to maintain a positive attitude. You cannot change the fact that you are infected, but you certainly and definitely can control your response to it. To conclude, I wish to state that I currently—and always will—believe that adversity makes a person stronger.
Going to Santa Barbara With My Mother.
For those of you who do not know, the other day, my mom and I took the train up to Santa Barbara for an afternoon of food, fun, and exercise. The entire idea came about because a month or so previously, I had gone on a camping trip at Lake Casitas with my dad. That was my father-son time, and this was my mother-son time. Each excursion was incredibly special. I love the city of Santa Barbara, and in the days leading up to the trip, I was very much looking forward to returning.
The train ride from Ventura up north is incredibly magical. There is just something about train travel that feels so majestic to me. On this particular route, the tracks are parallel to the ocean, and with the way the windows are oriented, it almost looks as if you are submerged in the water. It reminded me of my once-yearly flights to the San Francisco bay area on Southwest Airlines. Whenever my dad and I arrive in Oakland, it almost always looks as if we are going to land in the Bay, but then, right at the last second, the runway reassuringly pops up. This reminds me of the old adage: the journey is often more important than the destination.
We planned to eat lunch at one of my all-time favorite restaurants in Santa Barbara, the China Pavilion. I have often frequented the place with my friend Anthony, but my mom had not been in months. I was overjoyed to reintroduce her to the dining experience there, which is something I so treasure. She ordered Imperial Shrimp, and I got my favorite—the Kung Pao tofu. I would dare to say that this is the best tofu dish that I have ever tasted. It was so delectable that I even ended up licking the back of the serving spoon that was handed to us by the friendly waiter, just to savor the Kung Pao sauce. It was almost as if I was a frisky cat, getting hooked completely and mercilessly on a toy loaded with catnip.
Earlier that afternoon, it was my mother’s idea to visit the Santa Barbara Courthouse. I was stunned as I took in the majestic Spanish Colonial Revival architecture, and very gob smacked to hear that the building was finished way back in 1929. The views from the top floor were almost too splendid to put into words. While I was there, I could not help thinking about how much I admire my parents, as the very prolific and hard-working lawyers that they are. I aspire to be as successful as them one day. Of course, as I’m sure you all know, I truly believe that any goal, no matter how seemingly out of reach it may at first appear to be, is almost always entirely possible to achieve.
To sum things up, I felt that that day was incredibly special—not exclusively because of how fun Santa Barbara is, but because of the fact that I got to bond with my mom. I was incredibly touched when she bought me an iced latte at Cajé Coffee, not necessarily because of the drink, but due to the kindness of the gesture itself. She was very attentive to our needs during the day, and I could clearly tell that she respects me as a both a fellow adult and her son. Additionally, my mom is an incredibly fun-loving person—so much so that any activity can be made more enticing if she chooses to participate. She is also a very giving and selfless person, in the fashion of my late grandmother. I truly feel that I share some of the same tastes as her—including Santa Barbara. I am very much looking forward to our next expedition up north.
Me & my mom in front of the Santa Barbara Courthouse.
A Visit From My Aunt Sue.
The last time I saw my Aunt Sue in person was back in 2017, during my Occidental College graduation ceremony in Eagle Rock. She was so excited to be attending. During the ceremony, it was so sunny that she even bought herself a new hat from the bookstore, emblazoned with the OCCIDENTAL logo. She still has it to this day.
Sue Milner is my aunt on my mother’s side. She lives happily in Citrus Heights, California, in close proximity to her son and daughter in law, and their two boys. Sue is proudly vegan, and perpetually advocates for the well-being of animals. She was such a strong and positive influence on me that one key reason why I myself became vegan is because of her. She inspires me each and every day with her dedication to animal rights.
Sue has a very cute and loyal dog named Indie, age 4. Initially, I was a bit apprehensive about Indie coming along, because I was not sure how well she would get along with our new puppy, Maizy. However, this ended up not really being an issue. During her visit, I discovered that Sue bends over backward to take care of Indie. She personally peels and prepares sweet potatoes for Indie to eat. She even has a special dog seat belt, in the back of her Subaru, that is designed to keep Indie safe while the two of them are in transit. Indie loves her owner, and I cannot help but feel that Sue is a model pet owner, who always puts the needs of animals before her own.
For those of you who do not know, Aunt Sue and I FaceTime each other every single Sunday. I always look forward to our phone calls. Oftentimes, when we contact each other, I am hanging out with my friend Anthony in downtown Ventura. I have FaceTimed her from a quaint little park by the Clock Tower Inn, and I have even chatted to her at a local bus stop, where Anthony used to get a ride back to his home in Oak View. It was one thing to FaceTime Sue from these locations, and another to have her visit these incredibly special sites in person. Once we got downtown, the first thing out of her mouth was: “Where is the bus stop where you always wait with Anthony?” I was incredibly touched by how much she cares about me and Anthony, and overjoyed to see how much she liked experiencing Ventura in person.
The day Aunt Sue arrived, I was scheduled to go to Paddy’s Bar with Anthony—so I thought, why not invite her and my mom to accompany us? To my surprise and delight, they both said yes. This was their first time at the bar. All afternoon, I was so excited to show my family a piece of my life that they, up till that point, had not directly experienced. The evening ended up being incredibly special. As we were sitting at the bar with Anthony, Sue bought me a Sprite, and I could tell that Anthony was incredibly overjoyed at seeing my family visit his special place. At Paddy’s, he knows virtually everyone, and they know him. To conclude, I had the time of my life that evening—and I loved the fact that I could both show off Paddy’s to my family, and show off my family to Paddy’s. It was like two disparate parts of my life intersecting, and eventually becoming one.
I truly feel that my unique weekend with my parents, Anthony, and Aunt Sue ended up defying all my previous expectations. Every moment I spent with friends and family was a moment treasured. I also ended up discovering something that I secretly already knew, which is that Sue loves to engage in fun, captivating, and new activities with her family, friends, and animals. She is always so positive, and always such a joy to be around. She is so pleasant that I am greatly looking forward to both our phone call this coming Sunday, and the next time she decides to travel back down to Southern California to visit us in person. I just wish to end this post by formally saying that I am incredibly fortunate in life to be surrounded by such exceptionally loving and caring people in the way that I am. My loved ones are everything to me, and I know that I am everything to them. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Me with family and friends at Paddy’s.
My Zumba Class.
Did you by any chance know that, at any given Zumba class, one can burn around five hundred and fifty calories? Neither did I. However, after agreeing to regularly practice this fitness routine, I learned that tidbit and much more. I would even go as far as to say that this class has definitively changed my life for the better. I am a different person now than the young man I was before—all thanks to this Zumba class.
The person who first recommended Zumba to me was my Grandma Melinda. She is a loyal member of 24 Hour Fitness, who goes to exercise classes regularly. Because of her, I now have a regular Zumba routine. I often walk to class. The gym is located roughly a mile away from my house. I know this because my handy Apple Watch keeps track of all the steps I take. The evening before class, I make sure to get out my exercise shorts, fill up my water bottle, and tuck everything into my compact but fashionable Occidental canvas tote bag.
After entering the gym, I am almost always immediately greeted by the Zumba instructor himself, José, who always makes sure to arrive early as a gesture of respect to his students. If I could use just two words to describe José, they would be the following: “gifted” and “enthusiastic.” I have never had a fitness teacher so knowledgeable before. He is always incredibly positive and encouraging toward his students, while at the same time, not afraid to push them. The number one reason why I always find myself getting so much exercise at Zumba is because of him. Not a class goes by without me seeing José drenched in sweat by the very end. His energetic attitude is always infectious, and I always look forward to seeing him every Monday and Wednesday at 24 Hour Fitness.
In addition to the exercise, I have found that Zumba classes have the benefit of putting me physically close to others who are in my same position—others who also desire to get a good workout. The social connections I have made through this class have been life-altering. I have become so close to some of my classmates that I even invited them to celebrate my thirty-first birthday with me at the restaurant Kabuki, back in April. Everyone in class is so kind to me, and they know me so well that they often offer to give me rides back home from class every Wednesday, when they know that Melinda is not there to drive with me.
For those of you who do not know, a typical Zumba class consists of fast-paced dancing, often to powerful and motivating music—in my case, music that José carefully selects. He makes sure to painstakingly choreograph each and every move we make. Copious water breaks are interspersed between songs, and every class concludes with stretches. After several months of taking this class, I have definitely seen signs of improvement in my physical fitness. It is easier and more rewarding for me to break a sweat than it was before.
I wish to continue this post with a narrative about me getting out of my comfort zone a couple of weeks ago. Every class, José randomly selects a few students and asks them to come to the front of the room, where there is a small podium. They then co-lead the class with him. Melinda and I always joke that that experience is not for us. However, just the other day, when Melinda was on vacation, José politely summoned me to the front of the class. I immediately agreed to go forward.
Once I made it to the podium, my first thought was: How does José do this?? However, before I panicked, I made eye contact with some of my classmates, and my second thought was: There is so much love and support in this room. And with this support, I could never go wrong. My eventual third thought was: This is awesome! I’m so proud of myself! The only way I can properly describe my experience is likening it to riding a roller coaster. Before you get on the coaster for the first time, you are understandably anxious to face the unknown. You are apprehensive about the ride you will have. You don’t know if you can handle it. However, while you are on the ride, you eventually get used to it. The anxiety goes away. Then, all of the sudden, you find yourself enjoying it. You scream and have a good time. You then get off; proud that you tried something new. Your final thought is: I would love to ride that coaster again!
To conclude, this Zumba class has definitely benefited me in my quest to become a healthier and happier person. I would highly recommend it to anyone who wishes to get out of their comfort zone, get good exercise, or even meet new and like-minded friends. What has worked for me simply must work for others. If you by any chance ever decide to undertake going to a Zumba class yourself, please feel free to reach out to me so we can discuss together how it has benefited you, and whether or not you would personally recommend it. I think you will find that taking this important and crucial step will be one of the best choices that you could ever wish to make.
My Fourth of July Experience This Year.
It has become a yearly tradition for my friend Anthony and I to spend the evening of the 4th at Nordhoff High School in Ojai. There is a stadium there, complete with a small field. Every Independence Day, food trucks converge on the school, as well as local revelers who shell out $10 cash in order to spread a blanket out on the turf and view the riveting fireworks spectacular.
This year promised to be even better than the last. I started off the evening strong by grabbing a vegan Italian ice cream cup at one of the stalls. Anthony got his face painted—red, white, and blue, of course. I had even pre-prepared for the event by wearing blue jeans, white socks, and a red Zumba shirt. I wanted to be patriotic on this special day. Shortly after we got there, the band started playing, and I internally danced to the tantalizing rhythm of “Surfin’ U.S.A.”
It wasn’t long before we ran into my mother’s old friend and roommate Stacy. She was enjoying the festivities with her husband Ian. Because Anthony went to high school at Nordhoff—class of 2011—he often runs into old acquaintances there on the 4th. While he and I were dancing in front of the band, I could not help but do a double-take; right in front of us was a woman who looked just like Hillary Clinton.
Seeing Hillary’s doppelganger brought me back, immediately and unfortunately, to the 2016 U.S. presidential election. I can still remember sitting in front of the projector at the Cooler at Occidental as an undergrad, watching the results come in live on CNN. What promised to be a victorious evening quickly turned into a total, jarring loss for both myself and the vast majority of the Oxy campus community.
I struggled to pay attention as the fireworks went off. Normally, watching them is obviously very easy for me, especially at Nordhoff; however this year was different. I just could not stop thinking about politics.
We are so fortunate to live in a country with free and fair elections. A country where our core rights and liberties are enshrined in a constitution. A country where anything is possible.
Every 4th, I am reminded of how far we have come since this great nation was first founded, back in 1776. Just a little over eight years ago, the case known as Obergefell was handed down by the Supreme Court. This decision immediately legalized same-sex marriage nationwide. It was so momentous to me that I still, to this day, have a framed copy of the L.A. Times from back in 2015, proclaiming: “‘EQUAL DIGNITY’ UNDER THE LAW.”
To conclude, I truly feel that the 4th is not just a day for celebration, but also a day of introspection. This year, instead of merely enjoying the fireworks, I additionally was able to reflect on what it means to me to be an American.
Camping With My Dad.
It had been years since I last went camping. When my dad and I arrived at the Lake Casitas Campground in Ojai, section F, just the other day, I could not help but feel an acute sense of excitement and wonder. This camp site was my childhood; from the tree where my kite got stuck when I was a teenager, to the plastic playground where my sister Clare and I took turns riding the brightly colored slides. The paved cul-de-sac at the end of the campsite was even still there. Like it was yesterday, I could vividly remember careering down the street on my bike, only to slow down in order to successfully loop around and then glide back to our tent trailer.
My favorite part of camping always involves ensconcing myself in my sleeping bag at night, and then waking up at the crack of dawn, to hear the birds chirping right outside my open window. There is no traffic; there are no sirens; and there are no construction noises. At Casitas, it is just me and nature—and I greatly prefer things that way.
Back when I was still a child, the Lake Casitas Water Adventure was first installed. For those who do not know, this attraction is basically a mini water park, complete with contorting slides, plastic inner tubes, and a relaxing and seductive lazy river. This time, as I swam leisurely in the river, I was joined by my close friend Anthony, who is fortunate enough to live a mere few miles away from Lake Casitas. Everything about that day was special—except, of course, for the fact that my skin eventually became as red as a lobster due to my tragically defective sunscreen.
I had looked forward to that vacation for weeks prior; largely because I knew it would be a valuable time for me to bond with my dad. The occasion ended up being so special that Matthew even broke his strict diet to enjoy a thin crust Ojai Pizza pie with me on the first day of our trip. It was delicious. There is something about being at Lake Casitas that is just so relaxing and fulfilling. We enjoyed our outing so much that we decided to make plans to eventually go camping again—this next time, possibly at the base of the Sierra Nevadas, or even in the oceanside town of Malibu.
My key takeaway from that vacation was this: oftentimes, in our busy and frenetic lives, we tend to forget to simply stop and live in the present moment. We focus on work, but not relaxation. We focus on the destination, but not the journey. This, in my opinion, is a mistake; one that can easily be remedied by simply agreeing to spend time in nature, whether at a camp ground, on a beach, or even in one’s own backyard. In my thirty-one years of life, I have found that simply sitting outside, while leisurely reading a favorite book, is one of the most valuable experiences that one can ever have.
My Upcoming Occidental Reunion.
Can you believe it has been over six years since I have graduated from college? I still remember my Occidental graduation ceremony, back in 2017, in the Remsen Bird Hillside Theater, like it was yesterday. I can hear the cheering audience; I can feel myself shaking the proud hand of President Veitch; and I can taste the crispy honey shrimp that my family bought for me at P.F. Chang’s as part of a post-commencement victory extravaganza.
The circumstances surrounding my Occidental education were unique. I transferred there from U.C. Berkeley back in 2012, and was unceremoniously forced to drop out after one semester, due to mental health issues. However, with both time and effort, I was eventually able to re-enroll in 2015. Three semesters later, in December of 2016, I graduated. I was incredibly proud of myself. This was obviously no small feat for me.
As I write this, I gaze upon my framed diploma, which is currently hanging regally on my bedroom wall. There is no physical document that I treasure more. For me, Occidental was not merely a place or an institution, but instead a home. I loved being a Politics major there; I loved my unique and rewarding membership in the Zeta gender neutral fraternity; and I loved the physical beauty of the campus, which feels not like a college, but a like laid-back resort, where anything, both academic or social, is possible.
Occidental has given me memories that I will always treasure and never forget. This is why, each and every summer, I tend to look forward to getting the invitation to attend the special and nostalgic Alumni Reunion Weekend. Last year, at the event, I was able to personally shake the hand of Oxy’s new president, Harry Elam. This time around, I hope to talk politics with my old faculty advisor and dear friend, Professor Caroline Heldman.
The choice that I exercised in transferring from Berkeley to Occidental was one of the best decisions that I have ever made. My undergraduate education has given me everything, and not a day goes by when I do not feel grateful to my parents for financially supporting me in college during that formative time. I am also incredibly indebted to the admissions committee at Oxy, for generously giving me a place in the transfer class of 2012.
Every once in a while, I get a call from a student fundraiser at my alma mater, and whenever I see the words OCCIDENTAL COLLEGE pop up on the screen of my iPhone, I cannot help but experience a twinge of elation and excitement. My education is a part of who I am, and I am incredibly proud to continually be involved in something—a community— that is bigger than any one person, class, or activity. My Oxy merchandise and clothing only serve to underscore the fact that, to me, a college education is not something that endures for four years. It instead lasts for life.
Me at Oxy shortly before graduation in December of 2016.
My Birthright Israel Experience.
It was a cold, windy evening in San Francisco when my cousin Aaron first broached the subject of Birthright Israel. Apparently, he and his brother Gabe had previously gone on Birthright and both had a memorable experience, so much so that he decided to strongly recommend it to me. For the uninitiated, the Birthright gift consists of an all-expenses paid trip to Israel, where one can view precious Jewish holy sites in person, and even swim in the famous Dead Sea. The only catch is that, in order to qualify for the program, you need to have at least one Jewish parent. Fortunately, in my case, I was eligible and able to register for a special Birthright program known as Tel Aviv Pride. Even though this trip took place at the end of 2017, I still have precious and treasured memories from Israel that I remember to this day.
Before I went to Israel, I did not realize that the Hebrew language is read right-to-left. It also utilizes symbols that are not akin to the Roman letters that I am comfortable with using in the English alphabet. However, this did not stop me from taking in everything Israel has to offer. Fortunately, additionally, both our tour guide and program chaperone spoke fluent Hebrew. I was even able to befriend a fellow participant, Ari, who is bilingual in English and Hebrew. Even, though, when the language barrier reared its ugly head, I was never really unable to connect with anyone, because the locals were incredibly kind and friendly to me.
Judaism is full of special rituals and sacraments, and, during my program, I felt more strongly connected to my religion and ethnicity than ever before. For instance, did you know that, during the Shabbat, all the elevators in Israel run automatically, because technically every Saturday is a day of rest? Or that one can float in the Dead Sea without even having to doggy paddle? I even discovered that there are fewer peanut allergies in Israel because children there are often fed the tasty treat known as Bamba, which consists of corn puffs that are drenched in powdered peanut butter. I will additionally always remember the time I was fortunate enough to put a handwritten note in a hole in the famous Western Wall in Old Jerusalem, while wearing a traditional white Yamaka.
In addition to the artifacts that we examined, and the holy sites we toured, we were able to participate in a number of team building activities that created lifelong bonds and friendships. I even know of a couple who met for the very first time on my Birthright trip. They are still together to this day. One recurring theme that was presented to me in Israel was the importance of tolerance, and of respecting tradition and various religious sites. As an out gay man, I felt both included and celebrated, especially because the vast majority of our tour bus identified as LGBTQ+. Additionally, as we climbed the dirt steps of Masada, in addition to feeling out of breath, I felt a sense of awe at the sheer history that was enveloping us.
In case you do not know, I have, for years, identified as agnostic. This, in some ways, made me skeptical of organized religion. However, one important lesson that I learned in Israel is that religion does not necessarily have to be bad. I also discovered that history is almost always interesting, and that the differences that people have can often only serve to bring them closer together. By the time we were ready to board our A380 back to LAX, I could only conclude that Judaism can be practiced in many different ways. There is no single rule, practice, or tradition that must be followed above all else. Finally, the greatest gift that Birthright has ever given me is the knowledge that, if one is only willing to leave one’s comfort zone, one can literally achieve almost anything.
My Membership With Toastmasters.
I will never forget my first Toastmasters meeting. Right on cue at 6:00PM, I entered the restaurant known as China Kitchen for the very first time, with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, only to find two rows of tables, with a podium in the center. Every place setting had a voting form, a printed agenda, comment sheets, and a large placard bearing a number between one and twenty-five. This was Ventura Toastmasters Club 24, and little did I know it, but that day—that day in particular—I had elected to sign up for a wild rollercoaster ride that would test and try me, but that would also make me a better, and even more confident, person.
As I compose this, I look to my left, and can clearly discern the dozens and dozens of blue ribbons hanging on my cork board, each bearing the seal of TOASTMASTERS INTERNATIONAL. Some are awards for Best Table Topics; some are awards for Best Evaluator, and, finally, some of them correspond to the coveted status of Best Speaker. Additionally, I have a full-size certificate awarding me the status of Competent Communicator, which is electronically signed by both the International President of Toastmasters, and its Chief Executive Officer.
What does all this mean?-you may ask. Well, each Toastmasters meeting consists of both Table Topics and prepared speeches, as well as evaluations. The Table Topics are simply extemporaneous, short speaking sessions, about topics that are given at random. The prepared speeches typically range from five to seven minutes, and the subject matter can often be decided by the speaker. Finally, the evaluations are designed as metrics to help the speakers for the evening become even more proficient at their jobs. For each category, by definition, there needs to be a winner.
I continue to be shocked by how much I have advanced in the club since I first joined, in 2014. When I initially started out, the Table Topics were extremely stressful for me. I could often feel my stomach writhing, as anticipatory anxiety every Monday would render me uncomfortable and in a way incapacitated. However, once my mentor, Kathy, promoted me to a position within the club known as Sergeant at Arms, the anxiety seemed to vanish with barely a trace. Giving back to the club by helping set up and take down the meetings was incredibly rewarding for me, and to this day I am incredibly grateful to Kathy for suggesting this option for me. I am also indebted to my kind and caring psychiatrist, Dr. Daniel Flynn, for encouraging me to join Toastmasters in the first place.
What are some of the main terms I associate with Toastmasters? Rewarding. Loving. Supportive. Encouraging. Challenging. Eye-opening. Each and every meeting is different, and, over these nine years, I have had the privilege of getting to know some truly unique and friendly individuals, who share my passion for public speaking. I wouldn’t trade my Club 24 membership in for anything, and I continue to look forward to our special and fun meetings, each and every Monday—on Zoom or in person.
My Coming Out Story.
I will always remember the day I turned 21. I was on break from Occidental, and living at home with family at the time, and in the weeks preceding my birthday that year, I decided to initiate the process of coming out. Coming out was one of the best decisions I have ever made.
My initial wish and goal was to come out to my family by introducing them to a potential boyfriend; however, since at the time, I was single, I knew I needed a special occasion worthy of making this special announcement. I ultimately decided that my 21st birthday would suffice.
I have known I was gay since I was in the fourth grade. However, I ended up not deciding to truly come out to others until I was a young adult. One major motivating factor for me to come out was the supportive, LGBT-friendly campus climate at Occidental. I transferred there when I was 20. I am also fortunate to be surrounded by my extremely supportive family.
Deciding when and where to come out was the initial part. Then came phase two. I decided to pen a letter to the members of my immediate family, mentioning the fact that I am gay. I had this letter printed on thick stationary, and put it in a frame. Additionally, I very carefully and pain-stakingly composed a blurb to post on the group Facebook page of my fraternity, Zeta Tau Zeta. Finally, I lovingly prepared an email to my supportive grandmother, and prepared to send it.
Before the time came to make my special announcement, I had butterflies in my stomach. I felt like I was basically being eaten alive by anxiety, which was having its way with me in a merciless, vicious, relentless, and unconscionable way. It was some of the most anxiety I have ever felt in my life.
However, as soon as I came out, the tide quickly turned, and an overpowering sense of release suffused me. The only person who was truly surprised by my sexuality was my eleven-year-old brother, whose jaw dropped, before saying, “I love you.” My sister and parents were very supportive, and so were my grandmother and my fraternity. My dad even embraced me, as small tears of joy and pride streamed down his cheeks. The outpouring of positive comments on my Facebook group was like a series of fireworks—with each successive explosion, I felt even more buoyed, just like spectators and revelers feel on the 4th of July.
Since I turned 21, almost exactly ten years ago today, I have come out dozens and dozens of times, and each time, I have felt incredibly rewarded. I am incredibly proud of my sexuality. It is my very favorite thing about myself, with the possible exception of my name. As I compose this, I fondly and lovingly gaze at my full-size rainbow pride flag that is mounted to my bedroom wall.
I treasure my sexuality with every breath in my body, and every beat of my heart. I find my attraction to men to be a gift from God. For some reason, I could never picture myself as straight. It is just incredibly offensive to me.
To conclude this narrative, coming out has been, literally, the best birthday present that I have ever received.
Paddy’s Bar With a Friend.
At Paddy’s Bar in Ventura, the music was playing so loud that my voice had become hoarse from yelling, just to be heard. My best friend Anthony had showed up roughly an hour earlier, and by the time 10:30pm had rolled around, we were jamming to the sweet notes of Lady Gaga’s Chromatica album as New Year’s Eve 2023 progressed.
Paddy’s technically has two dance floors, but Anthony and I ended up gravitating toward the one that was helmed by our favorite DJ, known as Nick. We obviously weren’t able to complain about the fact that the second dance floor was more out of the way, because Nick happens to be very cute.
Donning my complimentary NEW YEAR’S 2023 paper cap, during a lull in the music, I moseyed over to the bar with Anthony and ordered a virgin Roy Rodgers. I could not help but utter an audible “Ah,” in satisfaction, as the twin flavors and smells of Coke and cherry syrup flooded my tongue and nostrils.
Normally, I tend to leave Paddy’s at around 11:30, to get to bed. I happen to be on prescription medication that is very sedating, so anything stretching beyond 11:30 is usually pushing it, for me. However, this night was New Year’s Eve, and this time was incredibly special. Ignoring the glaring white lettering on my Apple Watch, which displayed 11:45, I danced and swayed to the music, incredibly elated to ring in the New Year with one of my all-time favorite people, and the magic of Paddy’s.
Too distracted to chat with people and hand them one of my business cards, which I often do when Anthony introduces his friends to me at Paddy’s, I instead joined Nick in counting down to the new year. Before I knew, or was even able to process, it, the year 2023, with all its anticipated travails and blessings, was surely and finally upon us.
Paddy’s is extremely special to me, made even more relevant and topical because of the unique bond Anthony and I have, especially while dancing to Dua Lipa under the strobe lights of the often-frequented, and sometimes overcrowded, primary dance floor. That institution is so near and dear to my heart, that, last time I was there, I decided to spring for a Paddy’s shirt—the same one that I always glimpse the employees wearing.
I am looking forward to visiting Paddy’s in the future, hopefully with Anthony again. For every holiday, the place is completely and entirely decked-out, and I eagerly anticipate drinking another Roy Rodgers, possibly under a giant shamrock for Saint Paddy’s Day.
All in all, my New Year’s Eve this time around was incredibly special, especially because I was able to spend it with Anthony. I unfortunately missed watching the ball drop in New York City on TV at 9 o’clock Pacific Time, but what I did not miss out on was a live countdown from Nick, and an experience at Paddy’s that was unlike any other.
Remembering My Aunt Nancy & Her Dog Gidget.
Acapulco was one of my aunt Nancy’s favorite restaurants. It was a warm, sunny day in Costa Mesa, and my family and I were out to eat. After Nancy was diagnosed with stage four colon cancer in April of 2006, we tried to support her through chemo in any way we could, and I remember being excited to see her when we drove into the O.C. that morning.
I, personally, did not care for the food at Acapulco, but spending time with family was ten times more important to me than enjoying what I had ordered. Much of that day I do not remember, but I do remember eating outside with Nancy, and sharing some carnitas with my mother. When I was a child, I sometimes felt uncomfortable around people, but I always was able to be myself in front of family.
Nancy was very attached to animals, and ended up adopting a toy dog called Gidget. She bent over backward to care for her. She gave her baths, fed her, and took her to the vet regularly for checkups. My maternal grandparents eventually invited Nancy to move in with them, and Gidget was obviously included.
Gidget was incredibly special and loving. She eventually became attached to everyone in my grandparents’ house in Costa Mesa. I was not even living there at the time, and I still managed to become attached to her.
Nancy’s cancer was very hard on my grandma. It devastated her, every minute of every day, and ate away at her perpetually. It must have been so challenging for her to watch her child struggle. We tried to be there for my grandparents and Nancy as much as possible during that challenging time.
When Nancy eventually passed, we were all besieged by grief. To this day, I remember her as a very loving, very caring, and very kind person who weathered every misfortune that was foisted upon her. She was so strong, so bold, and so inspiring. Not a day goes past when someone in our family does not think of her.
She was survived by her dog Gidget. My grandma assumed responsibility for caring for her. I have this memory of Gidget entering my guest room, one time when I was staying at my grandparents’ house. It was late at night, but for some reason, I was awake, and I saw Gidget enter my room. I was very tired, and surprised, but happy to see her wanting to visit with me.
The primary reason why my Grandma Marguerite was so attached to Gidget was because that dog reminded her of her daughter. I am so moved, by the love she had for Gidget, even as I write this. We all treated the dog as a living, breathing reminder of how special my aunt Nancy truly was to all of us. I will treasure my memories with her and Gidget, and keep them with me, forever and always.
Visiting Lake Kootenay With Family.
One of my favorite early memories with family involved visiting Lake Kootenay in Canada when I was a kid. Even to this day, I have a framed photo of me and my dad standing in front of the giant green mountains that frame the lake, which is mounted on the wall right above my desk.
While at the lake and contemplating the pristine blue waters, I could not help but feel miniscule in comparison. Nature is so big, and so powerful. Next to it, we are almost insignificant.
I still have a piece of petrified wood taken from the lake. The water was so fresh that we were able to drink it. The taste was almost impossible to describe; it was like no other water I had ever imbibed before.
We skipped stones on the surface of the pure blue water. Far away from any human habitation, the lake and surrounding mountains were undisturbed, unpolluted, and in every way uncompromised.
In my thirty-plus years of life, I have yet to encounter another setting as natural and as special as the majesty that is Lake Kootenay. My family loved it so much that we decided to go back multiple times. Once we crossed the Canadian border by car, for the first time, my dad immediately spotted road signs in kilometers and needed to re-orient himself. One time, we even went to the nearest town, which was Creston. I was not used to seeing Canadian banknotes, but ended up viewing them in person for the first time.
It was obviously strange, at first, navigating a foreign country, with its odd currency and different signage, but for Lake Kootenay, all the time and effort were well worth it.
Why You Should Be Careful Driving in the Rain.
For those of you who do not know, here in Southern California, we have recently experienced a deluge of rain. I personally love the rain; however, in excessive amounts, the water can become dangerous. Just a little while ago, the small community of Montecito, only a few miles north of my hometown of Ventura, was forced to evacuate because of the winter storms.
I, myself, experienced a weather-related incident just the other day. Just as an aside, my foibles with the rain were, of course, nothing compared to those of the communities that were heavily impacted by the storms.
While driving back from a medical appointment the other day, I surprisingly encountered a huge body of water that had been percolating on the street due to the storms. It was so deep that I was concerned that I would hydroplane, or that the engine would become immersed in water, rendering the car inoperable.
Fortunately, neither of these outcomes ended up occurring. However, the large water puddle concealed the actual contents of the street, so much so that, without observing anything, I suddenly heard a loud scraping sound. Cringing, I pulled over, and found out that a large portion of the skid plate under my car had become loose and was dangling precariously above the ground.
I immediately became extremely anxious. Car-related troubles are a major fear of mine. My mind leaped to conclusions, such as, “what if the damage is so bad that a body shop may take weeks to repair it?” or, “how much is this going to cost me?” I spent the next 48 hours in a state confusion and dismay.
Luckily, after the weekend had passed, I was able to make an appointment with a local service center. In my quest for answers, I made sure to get there early.
I left Pep Boys in a much happier state than the state I was previously in. Fortunately, it turned out that the damage to my car was minor, and it only took them like fifteen minutes to repair it. They charged me nothing.
The primary lesson I learned from all this is that, when a crisis—your worst-case scenario—occurs, the actual pain caused is only theoretically as bad as you allow it to be.
Also, it often can be expedient to avoid driving in the rain.
My New Year’s Resolution.
Happy Holidays everyone! As I write this, on Christmas Day, I am in a very contemplative mood about the new year. I truly feel that 2023 will hold a lot of promise for me, and for you as well. With that said, in this post, I wish to reflect on my key resolution for the new year.
My number one resolution is to become more fit and healthy. This would basically involve exercising more, losing weight, and eating more healthily. For those of you who do not know, I am currently a vegan. This does not necessarily mean, however, that all the vegan food I eat is healthy.
My target weight is around one hundred thirty-five pounds. To achieve this ideal weight, I plan to get more exercise. My preferred form of physical activity is walking. Additionally, once a week I attend a Zumba class with my grandma. I also try to work out at the gym with my parents every Sunday. Additionally, I enjoy walking to the gym, which is about a mile each way, specifically to go in the hot tub.
As far as diet is concerned, I feel that I need to start consuming more fruits and vegetables. It may be wise for me to stop consuming so much plant-based meat. I also believe that I should consume less carbs, less candy, and less processed food.
I have found that, whenever I set a goal, it is easiest for me to work gradually toward that goal over time, instead of just leaving it to the last minute and trying to squeeze everything in at once. This is the approach that I took with my Oxy comps paper, which coincidentally is posted on this very website.
I am fortunate enough to own an Apple Watch, which tells me how many calories I burn each day. I am also lucky enough to have some nice walking shoes and trendy workout clothing. This effectively means that I am all set to go. I just need to muster the determination and moxie to follow through with this plan. Ultimately, I do not truly feel that this will be a problem.
“If you’re walking down the right path and you’re willing to keep walking, eventually you’ll make progress.”
Why I Decided to Go Vegan.
I still remember the day that I decided to quit eating meat. Back before COVID, I used to take weekly exercise classes at my local gym. Conveniently, on the way to the fitness club, there is an In-N-Out burger. As you may correctly surmise, I frequently found myself eating burgers, fries, and sodas, every week before my scheduled Retro Fusion class.
Eventually, I found myself dreading going to In-N-Out. Don’t get me wrong; I genuinely liked the taste of the burgers there—it was just that I could not stomach the thought of killing an innocent cow, every time I frequented that restaurant. It just became something that wasn’t worth it for me.
Almost immediately after I stopped eating meat, I started to feel physically healthier. At first, I strongly believed that I would miss eating meat. That I would feel that I was missing out by not eating bacon. Or that an inconvenient void would appear in my life, where once there was a juicy hamburger.
Surprisingly to everyone, especially to myself, I eventually just stopped craving meat. This took barely any time at all. As I write this, I have not eaten a proper piece of meat in years. And I am all the better for it, honestly and truly.
All these new dietary changes were going so well for me, that I decided to go from pescatarian to fully vegan. My dear aunt Sue, who has been vegan for years, was there to help me through the transition. During this time, I have discovered one simple fact: the systems that we use to raise animals for slaughter, as well as the procedures that allow us to consume their various byproducts, are quite simply inhumane, and obviously patently unsustainable.
I have also reaped many health benefits from these dietary changes. I take a vegan multivitamin in the morning; every morning. I am not afraid to make occasional exceptions to my diet; every once in a while, I will eat a sushi roll, or a bag of Hot Cheetos, et cetera. Also, for those of you who do not know, the vegan diet, by definition, does not involve the dietary consumption of cholesterol.
To conclude, I do not wish anyone who eats meat, or other animal products, to feel judged by me after reading this post. I simply wish to educate anyone who is curious about the various environmental and health-related benefits of going vegan, so that they can see for themselves if such dietary changes would be a good option for them. I personally have never regretted my choice to go vegan. Not only that, but I truly feel that it is one of the best decisions that I have ever made.
“Veganism is not a sacrifice. It is a joy.”
My Thoughts on the U.S. Midterm Elections.
On the evening of election day in the U.S., I decided to tune into MSNBC with my parents to watch, live, the results of the midterm elections. For those of you who do not know, I am a lifelong Democrat, who was raised by very liberal and open-minded parents. However, I like to consider myself as someone who is open to entertaining viewpoints different from his own.
Prior to Election Day, there was forecasted to be a “red wave” of Republican support, in both the House and the Senate. Years ago, I was taught in school that, typically, whenever one party wins the presidency, in the next midterm election, two years into the future, the other party often wins control of Congress. This simple fact, plus the idea of the impending “red wave,” did not make me optimistic about these midterms.
As I write, control of the Senate is virtually tied, and the Republicans are poised to win control of the House of Representatives; albeit not in the major, splashy way that they were forecasted to. As a Democrat, I honestly feel that the situation could have been much worse. There was no real “red wave,” and the Dems won many governors races. In addition, Gavin Newsom was re-elected as the governor of my state of California.
Unfortunately, however, the ultimate fate of Congress after these midterms has yet to be decided. In the coming days, we are expected to gain more information, as more results are tabulated. According to the news media, both the issue of reproductive freedom, and the obvious unpopularity of Trump, are to blame for the lack of a proper “red wave.”
I personally am optimistic so far with the results; although I fervently wish that the Democrats could retain control of the House. It does not look as though that will occur. If, somehow, we were to retain control, I would welcome the passage of a bill that would guarantee workplace protections for LGBT people, as well as a bill that would federally enshrine the right to reproductive freedom for women.
I have no idea what to expect in 2024, when the presidency will be up for grabs for the first time since Joe Biden was elected in 2020.
Just to conclude, I truly feel that it is our sacred duty, as U.S. citizens, to vote, whenever we can and are able to. Following politics on a local, as well as national level, has dramatically impacted my life, in a very positive and real way. I honestly believe that an educated and informed populace is what makes democracy in this country strong.
What I’m Thankful For.
As Thanksgiving this year fast approaches, I have decided to evaluate my life, in order to determine what I am truly grateful for. To boil everything down, I would have to say that I am thankful for the love that is in my life—love that comes from others; and love that comes from myself.
I was recently at my younger sister’s wedding in Washington, D.C.; and standing there, watching her kiss her beloved husband reminded me that romantic love is one of the strongest forces known to humankind. There is just something so special about loving someone else in that way—such love is different from the way in which you love yourself, and also different from the way that you love others.
I love my family, and I love my friends; and I am entirely certain that they love me back. I am so blessed to know so many kind and special people, and I like to think that they are very fortunate to know me.
I am thankful for the fact that I am healthy, and I am also very blessed to know that I am happy. I am even grateful for the fact that I remembered to bring my special shoes to Clare’s wedding. There was a time in my life when I was virtually incapacitated and incapable. From my bed, I would look across at the shoes, and say that I may never be active enough to wear them again. Just last month, I proudly wore them to my sister’s wedding ceremony. Everything about that day was basically perfect, and I am certain that I will always remember things that way.
So, to sum up—this year, and every year, I am grateful for the abundance of the love that is in my life. I was grateful to wear my special shoes to the wedding. I was grateful to go to Knott’s with my friend Anthony for Halloween. I was fortunate enough to eat vegan sausages, barbecued by my dad, for the both of us. I am also privileged enough to have this website to work on, and frequently update. It is these little things that make life special for me.
One can never sum up all of one’s Thanksgiving-related feelings in one blog, or even in a full-length novel, I would argue. Words, however, can be valuable tools. Writing this blog has reminded me that I am very fortunate to lead a happy life, surrounded by others that love me and guide me, just as I love and assist them.
Why I Love San Francisco.
San Francisco has always been my favorite place on Earth, for as long as I can remember. Something about the Bay Area has perpetually drawn me in, every time. Last time I was in the city with my dad was in October of 2021. I remember going to the Coit Tower with him, and looking out at the waters of the Bay; thinking that I was peering out at a literal paradise.
My dad and I typically make an annual pilgrimage to the Bay, to both visit family and explore the city. Each time we go, we fly out of Burbank, and from the Oakland Airport, we take the BART train into the city. The public transportation in the Bay Area is unparalleled, especially for the U.S. Everything within the city is incredibly accessible, from the delicious gourmet restaurants to beautiful expanses such as Golden Gate Park.
I have always nursed a lifelong wish to own property within the city. In my ideal world, I would own both an apartment downtown, and a house abutting Dolores Park, which itself is walking distance from the Castro. In the Castro, the nightlife can be found, as well as rainbow flags on every street corner.
I love everything about the city, from the weather, to the food, to the architecture of the very buildings. Whenever I walk within the area, I feel like I am home. It is my forever happy place, and it will always hold a special and unique place in my heart.
—G.M. Haffner, October 29, 2022
Yours truly, in San Francisco.