Mascots for Hire.

There are many things in this world that I do not understand. Many large or abstract or philosophical concepts or behaviors seem to elude my comprehension. There are also several things that I feel I should be able to understand, yet cannot. One of these things is the idea of people dressing up in animal suits.

This topic is actually a bit more broad than you would think. And you might think I'm about to start writing about Furries. But I'm not. That is a bullet I intend to avoid. And, by the way, if you don't know what a Furry is search for "furries" in Wikipedia and Google Images. Make sure your children (or parents for that matter) aren't in the room. It's pretty creepy.

Okay, back on track. Really what confounds me is the idea that taking an employee and dressing them up as an animal (or other creature) is a legitimate method for boosting revenue. Every time I see a Blue Dog advertising a bank or a Ridiculous Italian Stereotype outside of a pizzeria, I can't help but get struck with a combination of fear and bewilderment. Maybe partly this is because I have always fostered a hearty fear of costumed beings. I never recall enjoying sitting on Santa's lap or getting photographed with the characters at Disney World. Whatever seems to attract people to these characters seems to be the ingredient which repels me.

I started thinking about this last weekend while sitting on the Megabus waiting to go back to Chicago. Our bus was stopped on the corner of High Street and 12th (I believe) for several minutes while our bus driver was trying to determine his route through campus. It was move-in day for all those little Buckeyes who will soon be either bathing in Scarlet & Gray or sitting in dorm rooms or coffee shops holding a small degree of contempt for those who do. Many different organizations and companies had tents or tables out on High Street for promotional purposes. Right outside where my Megabus was stopped was a tent for Chase Bank. There were two guys throwing a frisbee and--of course--someone dressed up as a blue dog with the Chase logo hanging around his neck as Corporate Bling.

The job of Chase Dog (as I will refer to him) was to pace around and wave at everyone on the road or walking down the sidewalk. This seems to be the standard method for these mascots. And one that I've never understood. I don't understand how having someone dressed up like Little Caesar standing on the side of a busy road waving at cars is going to generate more business than a huge sign that says "CHEAP PIZZA!" The first emotion that emerges from seeing these mascots is pity. Pity for that poor soul who has to stand outside for hours performing the same gestures in often imperfect weather while wearing a ridiculous costume.

But this time I was able to observe Chase Dog for much longer than the few seconds I usually observe mascots. And after the Wave of Pity and the subsequent Wave of Fear passed by I was struck with the Third Wave: The Wave of Amusement. Chase Dog became quite the center of attention. Once people started walking by, Chase Dog was no longer aimlessly waving and pacing around, but constantly high-fiving passersby. As soon as he raised his hand in anticipation, people seems to walk out of their way to slap five with a person covered completely in blue and white fabric. Awkward freshman, upperclassmen, parents, and exchange students alike had brief but positive interactions with Chase Dog. Even though in reality it was a somewhat commonplace and simple interaction that I witnessed, it would be rather difficult for one's heart to not be warmed by this site. Several other passengers on this bus were also amused to the point of taking photographs.

What is it that fascinates us about dressing people up as mascots? Why is it that I'm generally adverse to them?

Not-So-Guilty Pleasure: Bollywood Hits

Let me begin this post by stating that, in general, I'm no fan of musicals. Or most radio-friendly pop music. Something about the insanely high levels of production and sugar-coated shell of "perfection" rubs me the wrong way. It seems disingenuous. And then having been bombarded with these two genres of music since my memory formed some-odd twenty years ago has made this music rather grating. I can't tell you how many times I had to listen to cassette tapes of Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals during family road trips--Memory! All alone in the moonlight!--or endure Top 40 Radio’s constant repetition of songs from Dirty Dancing.

But despite all of this, I love Bollywood music. You could easily draw stylistic parallels from Bollywood to both the Musical and Pop music genres, e.g. spontaneous eruptions of song and dance, high production values, likelihood that you will repeatedly hear the same few songs, but these similarities tend not to phase me. Maybe this exception to my "rule" has something to do with the fact that I recently traveled to India for several months. I suppose there is a slight bias there. While in India, I was constantly being bombarded and saturated with pictures and sounds. Every night you could hear music playing loudly in the distance. Every time I turned on the TV I inevitably passed over channels either replaying the musical scenes from popular Bollywood movies a la MTV or song/dance competition shows where contestants performed their favorites a la American Idol. In contrast to the pop music saturation I have been experiencing my whole life, this music sounded fresh to me. Part of my enjoyment of this music is because it is new and fills an absence in my musical preference. Part of it is purely fond memories of a wonderful country.

And to be fair, there are plenty of Bollywood songs that I do not enjoy. I will, however, share with you a few of my favorites that have been bopping in my head for months. Thusly, I will begin some extreme YouTube linkage of videos of songs that I particularly enjoy but in no particular order.

WARNING! You are about to experience videos containing the following: music, lip-syncing, crazy synchronized dance routines, cheese, male leads with the last name Khan, random and unnecessary caucasian extras, disproportionately attractive women whose hair perpetually blows in the wind, and Hindi among other stimuli. If you are faint of heart or are not open to various kinds of music you might be overwhelmed. I will not pay any of your hospital bills.




"Lal Dupatta" from Mujhse Shaadi Karogi

This video conveys almost all of the tropes that I previously listed. It is also the worst perpetrator of the "women whose hair perpetually blows in the wind."




"Jhoot Nahi Bolna: from Aap Ka Suroor

This song hits all the tropes including random white extras. It is probably my least favorite out of the five, though.




"Agar Tum Mil Jao" from Zeher

This video includes a steamy make-out session in the beginning (not so common in Bollywood movies), a lead male crankier than Colin Farrell and a really catchy beat. Since I can't quite understand Hindi I don't know what the girl is singing about but my innate understanding of the female psyche tells me she is upset about something.




"Ajab Si" from Om Shanti Om

Featuring the Recently-Detained-in-an-American-Airport-Because-He-Might-Be-a-Terrorist Shah Rukh Khan pursuing a woman who is clearly a little too young for him.




"Kuch Kuch Hota Hai" from Kuch Kuch Hota Hai

Another video featuring SRK. Oh, I also forgot to mention that Indian people apparently love to dance near mountains.

Moving To A New City

Probably one of the most important first steps in moving to a new city is acting like you've been living there for years. It's like when you are a freshman in high school. I don't know about you people, but I'm pretty sure I tried as hard as I could to memorize where everything was so I wouldn't look like a Stupid Freshman walking the unforgiving halls of Thomas Worthington HS. This lesson was also repeated on a larger scale during the first year of college.

Of course, moving to a new city (and a bigger city at that) poses quite a challenge but also one I am willing to take on. Here are some tips that I have been learning along the way in order to pass myself off as an Authentic Chicagoan:

Use maps discreetly.
The first point is the most obvious. Don't be overt in your map consultations. Duck into alleys or keep it out of the line of sight of passersby. If they find you looking at a map they will immediately judge you and will never accept you as one of their own. You don't want to be the runt that gets mercilessly eaten by hyenas, now do you?

Walk briskly and with purpose.
You don't want to be just strolling along, wandering in a zig-zag all LA DEE DAH DEE DAH. Cityfolk hate this and will yell at you and call you a "tourist," which is about as bad as a racial slur (maybe even worse). Walk like you know what's up. Also keep in mind that if you walk too fast it will have the opposite effect and you will draw attention to yourself by looking like you either have no idea where you are going or are irrationally paranoid of getting mugged in broad daylight.

Don't look up at the buildings.
As big and impressive as they are you must ignore the skyscrapers. The only people that get caught up in the awe and grandeur of tall buildings are tourists and Mary Tyler Moore. There should be no slowing down to look at buildings, no gaping maw, and absolutely no spinning in circles. If you must look at the buildings, pretend you are about to sneeze or that something is in your eye.

Don't look happy. Ever.
In order to truly assimilate into city culture you must be willing to travel the city while looking disinterested and apathetic. At the very least carry a blank expression on your face. This trick is especially imperative when riding on public transportation. Don't make eye contact. Don't smile. Look like you hate your life. That should do the trick.

These tips should get you started.

On a more personal note, I signed a lease for an apartment in Ukrainian Village and will be moving in come early September. I'm rather excited in every respect except for the ridiculous increase in expenses it will must assuredly cause.

Congratulations Graduate!

In the past few days, snarky little phrases have been popping up into my head. Little thoughts. I feel like this is a trend that most young people must be experiencing to some degree because we are so caught up with technological brevity—what, with our text messages, Facebook status updates, and Twitter posts.

I'm currently working out an outlet for these thoughts. Turn it into something a bit creative. This is my first stab at it in this respect. It's not like I haven't done this before though...I spent two years in college scheming up ideas for the campus newspaper's cartoons and then drawing them up. Having a Wacom tablet this time around makes life much easier.

I read this article from Newsweek about how my generation has this inflated sense of self-worth given to us by our parents and society who want us all to feel like the most special person in the universe. That and the fact that we've never really had to deal with war or social struggle like our parents (Vietnam, Civil Rights Movement, etc.) or our grandparents (Great Depression, World War II, etc.). This article struck a chord with me as I consistently observe the behavior of my peers and I could most certainly relate. Not that I am exempting myself from this behavior entirely.

Many of these snarky little thoughts I've been thinking up have seemed to align with this narcissism complex my peers and I are having, but in a way that is making a stab at them rather then being in their support. So. Maybe this is the direction these will be taking.

Also, I'm debating moving this blog over to Tumblr because it seems to be more well-designed and fitting for repeated posts of photographs and art. Blogger gets a bit buggy and I have to sometimes circumvent the problem in order to get things the way I want.

Ironically Underwater

The story behind this is that a couple weeks ago in the mail came the Urban Outfitters Late Spring '09 Catalog. I believe they mail this to my mother because she has ordered a few things in the past to send to my brother in Los Angeles. So I start flipping through it and notice how obnoxious the whole feel of it is. It's photos of mostly the same models over and over (the girl below is basically half the catalog) in mostly goofy clothing where things are either tight and short or they're loose and saggy. Everyone has these vacant, apathetic but sexual stares. There's a couple good ones of this dude: in one of which he looks like he just farted, the other he looks like he's about to sneeze.

So basically I thought it'd be fun to make a little collage of sorts, to take the image and manipulate it or add doodles along with it to make it more ridiculous. Lord only knows what one could do if they got a hold of an American Apparel catalog. That'd be gold mine.

I'm planning on continuing this project and hopefully the further I delve into it, the more creative and interesting the pieces become.






















Ironically Underwater

Engravings

I'm terrible at keeping this updated in a consistent manner. I will promise to not wait months before posts. I'll probably start posting some work that I've been getting around to every now and again. Speaking of which, here is some new stuff:

This are a couple digital collages I made a few weeks ago. April 12th marks the birthdays of two of my dear friends, Jay and Leslie. I was going to send them a package of some sort (they are currently living abroad in Budapest) but I didn't really know what to send, so I decided to make some art for them. I have been compiling images of old illustrations because they are so kitschy and intriguing. So I decided to make a couple collages for them. The top is for Leslie and the bottom for Jay.


















Queer Weather

















Burger King

Los Angeles Day Five (Friday) — Final Day

Friday consisted of more exploration of the cool areas of Los Angeles. I suppose many people would want to go visit certain "sites" and "landmarks," but Brad and I are too cool for that. Plus, many of these areas—especially the communities formed by different nationalities—aren't things I can experience back home in Columbus. Yeah, we have "German Village" but I don't think there are too many real Germans hanging around there. They have probably mostly assimilated, just like my German and Italian heritage has.

We debated whether we should check out Chinatown or Little Tokyo and eventually settled on Chinatown because it is bigger. We took the subway there which allowed me to experience all that LA has to offer in terms of mass public transit. Which, unfortunately, is not a whole lot. Still it worked well and got us to Chinatown. We wandered down streets and through buildings and I got to enjoy a different style of architecture and a different vibe. One of the most pleasant things about being in Los Angeles is the relative diversity to a city like Columbus. The amount of diversity here is astounding and, quite frankly, pretty refreshing. I mean, Brad lives in Little Armenia for God's sake! How many cities have one of those?

While in Chinatown, we stopped in a few shops and one restaurant where I had s0me Korean food to tide me over for a few hours. Outside, there were some old Chinese men playing boardgames on concrete benches and tables (this must be the universal pastime of old men regardless of their country of origin). Hopefully when I get older I will become and old Chinese man so that I may partake in this activity while looking adorable.



















We left Chinatown to make it to a bar called The Edison. The Edison is located in downtown LA. The whole theme of it is being a Prohibition Era establishment, so it is very dark, classic-looking and non-descript from the outside. In fact, it's located in an alley and isn't a place that you would notice if you drove by.

Downtown Los Angeles.























The Edison was running a Recession relief-themed happy hour where they serve grilled cheese and tomato soup and your first martini is 37 cents. After that, their normally pricey drinks are half-priced. The place was so dark it was hard to get a decent picture without massive graininess and noise. They had a bunch of projectors playing old black and white movies, presumably from the 1920s. It was a labyrinth of mahogany and leather chairs, bar stools and love seats.


















Towards the end of the happy hour, Brad and I parted ways. He was planning on going to some other party and I was meeting up with Jon and Chun to go out for my old friend Colin Holmes' birthday. He is another one of my friends from home who has ended up in Los Angeles. Before meeting up with Colin, the three of us stopped in Little Tokyo for some food. We ate at Orochon Ramen, a pretty popular joint with the local Japanese population. However, Adam Richman from the Travel Channel's "Man v. Food" recently stopped in the restaurant to try the ultra-spicy ramen challenge, so apparently I was experiencing more white people than was the norm. The ramen comes in seven normal levels of spice—#1 being the spiciest and #7 being the mildest. After that there are two levels of especially hot bowls of ramen. The hottest is so full of spice that the typically brown ramen broth is bright red. Jon and I got #4s and Chun, being a wimp, got a #7. Someone next to us ended up ordering the extra extra spicy ramen and seemed to only be breaking into a mild sweat. I don't consider myself a heavyweight in the spicy foods department, but I do love eating spicy food and halfway through the giant #4 bowl my lips were tingling and my nose was being flushed out into my moustache. Regardless, it was the best bowl of ramen I've ever had (and I haven't just experienced the bricks of Top Ramen either).























A view of the Little Tokyo shopping area with a number of restaurants and other shops.


















After dinner, we headed over to Santa Monica to meet up with Colin. It was great seeing him and Jon, Colin and I spent the first portion of the night repeating old jokes and experiences to each other like any high school friends would. We started by going to a little bar called The Library which was quite a bit classier than the one on Ohio State's campus (as one would imagine). I can't remember which beer I had, but it was orange-colored and refreshing. And no, it was not a Blue Moon. After spending a good bit of time there, we headed to some dance club called Zanzabar where we stayed for awhile.

Eventually we all got pretty exhausted and started heading back. They dropped me off at Brad's apartment and we said our farewells. It was really great being able to see Jon as much as I did on this trip! I was pretty tired and ready to hit the sack, but Brad, Sarah and Christine had different plans. We ended up going to this bar I believe was called Tiny's, which is located in Hollywood and was frequented by Brad and Jared in their early days of Hollywood. It was a pretty kitschy place full of paintings of sad clowns and old pin-ups. After this bar closed, we headed out and were going to make our way to Brad's friend Kane's apartment. On the way, I was lucky enough to run into a Dirty Dog cart...where I experienced the infamously delicious and health-code violating delight. A Dirty Dog is a bacon-wrapped hotdog fried on a makeshift grill and then covered in a number of condiments, including copious amounts of ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise and a few hot peppers to boot.

I was in heaven.

We got to Kane's place and hung out and watched part of a Hayao Miyazaki movie until I couldn't keep my eyes open. We headed home and I hit the sack in preparation for packing and making it to the airport the next day.

All in all, I would say my trip to Los Angeles was quite a success. It was great to see Brad, meet his friends and to see Jon and Colin and meet their friends as well. I received a much-needed break from the cold, dismal winter of Columbus and came back refreshed and with some inspiration for the near future.

Los Angeles Day Four (Thursday)

It has been a few days since I have updated this blog with my travels. Apparently, I can't do any type of writing with much consistency. Alas! The reason for this was that I left Los Angeles on Saturday and because I wrote the entries two days prior I would have had to write Thursday's entry while on a plane. And since my battery no longer functions...well that just wasn't a possibility. Also, as soon as I got home to Columbus I had to start working on a poster design to go with the second stage of my job application for the Worthington Libraries. Oh the crimes I would commit for that job! But I digress, that is a topic for my upcoming blog,

"Rantings of a Naive Self-Entitled Upper-Middle Class White Boy Who Can't Find a Job."

Trust me, it'll be like rereading the angsty diary you've never had.

Okay, back to business. Thursday was a fantastic day. After the relaxing day of lounging and exploring Silverlake, I was ready to do some more exploring. Upon my arrival, Brad had promised to take me up to the Griffith Park Observatory. It is up on one of the lovely hills of Los Angeles and is visible from Hollywood. Brad had to tip-toe around the issue of his storyboard freelancing job as they tend to not give him advance notice on his work schedule. I was pretty excited about going to the observatory for a few reasons. One, being it was something nerdy and informational. Two, it was a pretty building. Three, a few months ago I watched Rebel Without a Cause and a good portion of the movie was set around this observatory. Oh, Hollywood!

We set off on foot for the bus station, as Brad had thought that there was a specific bus that would drive up the small mountain the observatory is located on. Unfortunately, we come to find out that this bus only runs on the weekends. Hmm...what to do? The only other option we could come up with was to take Brad's scooter, which seats one-and-a-half people, up to the top. I assured Brad that this would not be an issue, as most of my girl friends weigh more than me. I'm also very proficient with directing my center of gravity—ask anyone that I have piggybacked on. So we start off for the observatory. It wasn't a difficult drive at first; we only had to negotiate traffic on a geographically flat area before the hill started. And given my crash-course training on scooters in one of the worst places to be on a scooter—India—I wasn't bothered by Brad's driving. Hey, at least this time I had a helmet and was allowed to hold on to the driver!



































Brad's scooter started having trouble not long after it had to manage a semi-steep incline, so we were stuck. Our one option was to walk up to the top by foot. We wondered if it was doable. A passerby assured us that "Oh, it's only a quarter of a mile. It's not bad at all, I do it all the time and I'm not in shape." How hard could it be? Well, for two guys with flat feet and a lack of enjoyment for pleasure walking up mountains, it wasn't easy. By the time we got to the top, I was panting, cotton-mouthed and shin-splinted. VICTORY.



















Thankfully, the views from that height were spectacular, Even with the obligatory L.A. smog. Brad and I wandered around the observatory and examined the different exhibits. He was always the one at museums who would read every last word displayed within a room and I was the one who would take a quick glance to see if there was anything of interest and then plopped myself down on the nearest bench.

Here's a view of the outside of the planetarium.

























Brad is hanging out with good ol' Al Einstein. Al wanted Brad to smell something on his finger and, because Brad is a good friend, he obliged.
























View of the Hollywood sign.


















After we had wandered around the planetarium long enough, we made the trek back down to Brad's scooter. It was noticeably going down. We got back to Brad's place and soon thereafter I was picked up by Jon and Chun. We stopped at Trader Joe's to get fix-ins for dinner (Rib-eye steak, broccoli, mushrooms, et cetera). Then we decided to head to LACMA (the Los Angeles County Museum of Art). I believe it has been a little while since I've been to an art museum, so that was nice. There was an exhibit on art from West and East Germany from the entire time they existed as separate states.

I also got to see a few pieces by Richard Serra in person. He is known for his large sheet metal sculptures that the viewer can interact with by walking through and around. Of course, they rust over creating this beautiful red-brown hue. Here is a photo I took while we were walking through one of his pieces.























Below is an outside installation of rows and columns of streetlights. It was pretty sweet. Unfortunately I don't know whose work it is.























After LACMA we returned to Jon's place, cooked our food, enjoyed it and then headed to a club in Hollywood where Brad and his friend Jared were DJing. It was funny seeing the area of Hollywood that I haven't seen since my last trip to visit Brad and all of the spots I recognized. We hung out at the bar, watched Brad and Jared's set (does one call the length of time a DJ plays a "set?") and ended the night.

NEXT POST: China Town, the Edison, Little Tokyo, Santa Monica with Colin Holmes

Los Angeles Day Three (Wednesday)

Wednesday morning was spent trying to recover from an evening of eating irresponsibly large amounts of meat. I swear, my knees still get weak thinking about it. I knew ahead of time it was going to be a pretty laid-back day, because Brad was going to have to go into Santa Monica to do storyboards. Before he had to go, we walked up Los Feliz to see if anything cool was open. Of course, nothing opens until after noon in Los Angeles because, well, I guess everyone is lazy. City That Never Sleeps this is not. Almost everything was closed down Vermont Street where all the shops were located. We did explore a really cool bookstore and then each got something to drink at a cafe before we had to head back so Brad could leave for work.

After he left, I decided to do some exploring on my own...and actually was looking forward to wandering around for a bit. I walked all the way back to Silverlake and by this time the shops that were closed the day before were all actually open! There were a few noteable shops. One was a small clothing shop with a mix of various Asian patterns, illustrations and motifs on clothing. Of course, most of it was women's clothes but there was a section of t-shirts for guys that I rifled through. For being artisticly designed, the shirts were quite reasonably priced and I found quite a few shirts with Indian motifs (Hindu gods/goddesses, elephants, etc). I went into a few vintage stores and one store that was full of Do-It-Yourself/indie craft supplies and creations. It got me inspired to attempt to start making designs for t-shirts or stationary. There is also a really sweet comic book store that I wandered around for a bit.

I was stopped by a girl who was canvassing for some peace-lobbying political organization. Because I know these people are constantly getting stiffed or rudely remarked by passers-by, I was friendly and let her talk. I initially thought it was just some petition to sign...however, she proceeded to go on this long speech about a number of different things which ended in her wanting to get my information and money. I gave her my contact information, which ended up being a collage of accurate information, past addresses and childhood friends' information. Score one for Nicholas R. Thomas.

Again the weather on Wednesday was fantastic and I enjoyed strolling around and getting fresh air. It had been awhile since I have been able to wander around on foot. Of course, being flat-footed and having been constantly walking all week, I eventually had to head home because my feet didn't have much walk left in 'em.

The rest of the night was pretty relaxed and involved sitting in Brad's apartment.

Watchmen advertisement. This city is just about as chalked full of ads for this movie as it was two years ago when 300 was coming out.























Here's a sign denoting Little Armenia, the area in which Brad's apartment is located.























On the way to Silverlake.























Photo taken in a residential area of Silverlake.























Next Post: Climbing Mountains, Griffith Park Observatory, Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA), Nite Cells DJ

Los Angeles Day Two (Tuesday)

While wandering around with Brad on Tuesday, I couldn't help but get distracted by the weather. Every year in Ohio I experience a certain phenomenon. Around February, I get so accustomed to the bleak, gray winters that I actually forget that the seasons will change. Part of me remembers the cycle of seasons, and in conversation I will make reference to such seasons as "Spring" or "Summer" but in my heart I know that they don't exist. I resign myself to the cold, cloudy winter for the rest of my life. In Ohio, the seasons slowly change, allowing you to slowly adjust to the warmer weather. Then my mid-April, Spring actually hits before turning into a hot, humid Summer two weeks later.

This is why I have been caught so off-guard in Los Angeles. Every day it has been mid- to high-60s, mostly sunny and wonderful. There are pleasant-smelling flowers, yards full of grass, sunglasses and chirping birds. I jumped from Winter straight into Spring without lettiny my body know ahead of time. For shame! On Tuesday, I was actually preoccupied with the distractions of this weather and still in disbelief that I was in such an environment. Surely, my mind must be playing tricks on me.

But the weather was and is beautiful. And great for exploring. Brad and I walked to Silverlake, which is one of the hip, gentrified areas of Los Angeles. Last time I was here with Chris, he took us down here and we explored. Although the shopping areas of Silverlake are mostly concentrated within a few blocks, there exist what seems like at least a dozen coffee shops—all in business and all with frequent patronage. Apparently, there are a lot of people who need to be sitting out in public, sipping a latte and pretending to write a novel. Brad and I overheard a conversation in one coffee shop of this nature, and the writer described the novel she was working on as "genius" and unable to be pigeonholed into a genre. I'm sure it is, dear.


Below is a wall located in Silverlake. It is a graffiti wall memorium for Elloitt Smith, a musician who is pretty famous in the Indie music community who committed suicide some years ago. The wall was covered with messages to him and quotations from his songs.




















This is of the side of the coffee shop Brad and I sat in—the Casbah Cafe.




















After venturing around Silverlake, I got in touch with Jon Brown, my good friend from high school who moved out to Los Angeles for college. He's in his fifth year at University of Southern California and I have never seen him out here because last time I was LA he was traveling with the USC crew team. He and his girlfriend Chun picked me up from Brad's place and we went to a Greek grocery/deli/restaurant for lunch. I enjoyed a tasty gyro. Then we drove to USC and I got a 15-minute tour of campus. Again I was disoriented by the nice weather and couldn't imagine anyone actually studying or doing homework with this wonderful weather. Once April comes around at the University of Dayton, you either have to twist your arm to get work done or lock yourself in the nearest building (my preferred method).

Here's a picture of the new building for the film school. Fancy!




















Lots of people ride bikes at USC. Lots.




















I returned from hanging out with Jon and Chun in time for dinner at a Korean BBQ restaurant with Brad, Sarah and Christine. Christine is Korean and knew exactly what she was doing, so she talked to the staff and ordered everything for us. The format is this: Lots of bowls full of stuff. A grille in the middle of your table. And a lot of meat to cook on it.

The rest are photos from dinner. Apologies for the lack of an actually in-focus photograph. It was a low-light situation and my digital point-and-shoot was not up to the task.



















Thin rice wraps, sesame oil with salt and pepper, some other sauces and fresh jalapeño.




















Steak, pork belly, something else.



















Pork belly, squid and something else.



















Beef and small intestine.



















After four rounds of all-you-can-eat meat, our stomachs were about to pop. We decided to not continue on to Round Five. After the courses of meat, we got served bowls of chilled noodles with vegetables.
























We went home stuffed to the point of extreme discomfort. My stomach had not been filled with that much meat in quite some time, if ever. I went to bed happy and yet extremely uncomfortable, my body trying to hard to digest all the food. I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of my stomach still trying to manage all of the food I put into it.

I'm sorry stomach. I promise to treat you better in the future.