Thursday 5 February 2009

Project Sea Turtles: Minutes of Execution

11:30am
Sure enough I wake up, not to my alarm, but instead to a phone call from Buzz. He has no work and is willing to accompany me for the day.

1:30pm
First thing we do is go to travel to his neck of the woods where the Red Ribbon is located. Chicken empanadas for the pal, a slice of Ube cake for the little brother, and a nice 1/4 sheet Mocha Crunch cake for the gfriend. Buzz and I silently awe at the manager's deft icing calligraphy, nothing short of virtuoso, even erasing a bum letter with precision (a feat I prior thought impossible).

2:00-5:50pm

Driving, Snack purchases at Stater Bros., lunch at Pancit Planet fill the subsequent hours, Inspiration from Michael's, and presentation prep fill the subsequent hours.

5:55pm
Head to Irvine/Buzz's Freeways 101 Lesson #2 (may or may not include the 101fwy).


7:00pm
Stonefire grill for $10/head is an okay deal, but considering our recent purchases, it's at the utmost limit. Melody walks away from the table and I start to divulge my plan to Raffy. But before start can become continue she's already returned. Then she leaves again, but before restart can become continue she's once again returned. She sure knows how run errands. An intent stare and raise of the eyebrows gives Raffy enough of a heads up. Buzz and I get up to leave because I have practice (which is true, but I never actually said I would be going), and Raffy with that sharp mind of his asks me for my number to discuss "Mavyn stuff," sneaking in an inquiry about text message capabilities without any suspicion.

8:15pm
I catch up Raffy up on the plans via text. Buzz and I station ourselves at a local Starbucks (which says nothing about our location) to continue working on the display board. Likely the only thing more disturbing than the constant phone calls confirming plans is the sight of multi-colored pieces of felt enveloping the round little table and a chunk of cardboard taking the floor a la preparation for a b-boy cypher.

9:00pm (which a cranky Mike so necessarily argues is 9:01)
Last minute preps turn our little band of guests into a well-oiled machine:
Julian as head visionary consultant.
Geneyem as adhesive technician, adding tacky glue to tacky cutout letters.
Caleb as landscaping consultant, directing practical placement of yet-to-be attached turtles.
Buzz as assistant adhesive technician, making custom fit tape circles.
Raffy as cake-bearer, ready to light on command.
Mike as John Hancock impersonator, recklessly adding signatures to turtles I had originally prepared for backup.
Thomas as lookout, liason between the 4th and 5th floors
Helen as inquiry specialist, voicing her random questions about MCIA.
Helen's shy cousins offer their silent support.
Baby Sabrina on sleep duty, which is definitely the most helpful role for her at this time.

9:30pm
Sami sneaks an early group down to our floor to do some underground turtle dealing. Thomas signals 5 minutes til go time. Tiffy (co-coord of julian's 22nd suprise bash) & Lea (throwback bestie surprise of the year) join the bunch.


9:35pm
Go time.
Melody is on the 6th floor distracted by her fellow captains, Roxy "Roxstar" Shih and Rommel "OH!" Rosales, headed by Kevin "Krzydoo" Duh. Members of the team add their turtles, pre-made and freshly-inked alike, to the board while the rest camouflage our movement with real/faux run-throughs and Raffy lights the cake.

9:47pm
Patrick places me in the center with the board as he directs the team to cover me. Just then a disgruntled Melody, weary from discussing heavy leadership topics -- as she put it --“humph…on my birthday!” makes her way downstairs despite Krzydoo’s best attempts to extend the 15 minute diversion. The team is not in position yet, and my sustained exposure causes me to panic and instinctually decide to just crouch down behind the board. This of course comes in conflict with Raffy's instincual decision to crouch behind me…with the cake…that I have now just sat on. Not too many people notice, since they’re too busy cheering for one Melody Cruz, whose luster after being sucked away by her captains is being injected back into her by the crowd peppered with surprises she has yet to really take notice of. She eventually does notice, though, along with the team, of a fellow 22-year old vulnerably standing with cake on his hand...and bum.

“…and [czareine] was saying how last night was pretty perfect... julian fashion”
– Thomas

It was confirmed by the consensus that it just wouldn’t have been a “Julian story” if everything went as planned (a term they’re all well acquainted with by now). No objection here. It would be a far less poignant post in my opinion.

I’ll end this (krzy)doozy of a story with the thoughts I jotted down that night before bed:

The day was pretty cool Melody was happy and so I'm happy. Plus I won some major cool points with her and everyone around, points I gradually lost through the night by being myself (sitting on a cake, eating a candle, drooling, etc). That's nice. I'm happy things worked out, and yes I count the cake sit as things working out. Melody is happy and so I'm happy. I said that already. Well the look on her face is pretty hard to get out of my head. And a couple tears too? Perfect! Haha I threw out a couple high-fives after I saw that. I'm just so happy things worked out. I repeated myself again. Looks like happy is the word of the day. I'm cool with that. Thanks God.

Praise God for you.

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