Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Ghost Hunting

While staying just outside Oxnard with my best friend and one of her former travel buddies, we got an inside look at California State University at Channel Islands.


While the school is not in fact on the islands, it has lots of history to offer a curious traveler. Our lovely hostess and her roommate are both students here and they were happy to give the tour, in both the day light AND in the darkness of the night.

Why the night? Because this is no ordinary establishment. It was once ... a PSYCO WARD!! DUN DUN DUN

Seriously.

This charming school nestled in the rolling hills of Southern California was one a psyciatric hospital hidden away so that the rest of society didn't have to think about its misfits. Camarillo State Hospital to be exact. I'm not even joking! Check it out- they still have this sign on the front door of the main building because they have kept all of the original facilities.

That's right its still all of the same old Spanish-style buildings. The administration building once used to register the mentally ill patients is now used to register new students. The same rooms where the patients slept after their families abandoned them at the loony bin are now the dormitories for the students. The building once used to care for unstable children is now the day care for CSUCI students' kids. And yes, psychology is the most popular major at this school. Ironic? Yes. Spooky? DEFINITELY. Crazy? Oh Ya- I mean... ahem.

The transition was so recent that some of the buildings still have that hospital smell to them. *Shivers* Actually, the current library stands where the main hospital once was. The girls tell me that when they first arrived at school the basement of the library was still accessible and mostly untouched! For those who don't know, the basement of the hospital serves as the morgue. How could you study knowing that one floor below there remains walls lined with body freezers and rooms filled with examination tables that stand over floors with drains in them. Ya, those drains were for blood. OoOoOooo... In the early years some freshman hazing at this school included shoving the poor, frightened freshmen into the body freezers down there and shutting the door. Welcome to CSUCI!

No wonder I've never heard of this school.

I tried to let the past of the campus go and think, "This is kind of a nice place, would be that bad living here?" That is until I did some research. Could I sleep in the same room where a patient once lived? A patient that walked down the hall to his room dragging shackles from his ankles after receiving treatment. Treatments like mind numbing drugs or shock therapy so intense that the patient kept a Kotex in his mouth so that he wouldn't crush his own teeth with the power surge rushing through his body. Then, off to bed! Uhh, no. Thanks.

Now I see why these girls live in an apartment off campus.

But really. How creepy is this place? They actually came here to film that movie "The Ring" -ya. See that structure on top of that hill up there? That's the well from the movie, you know, where the scary little girl lives or whatever. Yep. Living at CSUCI would pretty much be like living with that girl from the "The Ring" ...and pretty much every other scary movie ever made, because let's face it, an abandoned psycho ward makes a great premise.


Alright, alright, alright. Enough with the ghost stories. Let's show some respect now.


Of course, this is California, and there is beauty to be held everywhere. I got a great shot over the reflection pool as the sun was going down.

And then came the darkness...

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Don't know where to begin, except that I'm glad that it's over.

Who knew that so many sleazy guys could fit into such a small space as Campbell? Why is there such a high concentration of them? Here is a recap of my night out with a girlfriend:

Appetizer at Rock Bottom (this name is appropriate for the whole town)

Dinner at some pizza place where immediately a drunk man thrusts his single friend toward our table to make conversation; they eventually ask the waiter for a round of the deadliest drink available, buy a round and sleazeball #1 lifts his shot glass to say, "here's to tits" (that man finished the night wearing no shirt)

Dancing at the next bar over. We have to wait in line for no apparent reason; receive hand stamp, enter and leave immediately to drop coats in the car; return only to wait in line again (why the hand stamp, then?). My conversation with the bouncer at the door:
*bouncer reads my shirt featuring the Incredible Hulk: "You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."
Me: "True story."
Bouncer: "Ya, I only like an angry girl when she has a gag in her mouth."
Me: "Ew." I enter the bar.

Encounters with various men:
*man approaches extending his drink to me
Me: "No, thanks."
Man: "You don't drink? Where is your drink?"
Me: "No, I am driving home."
Man: "May I buy you a drink?"
Me: "No. Thanks."
Man: "What if I get you a beer that is completely unopened?"
Me: "No. Thank you."
Man: "Where are you from?"
Me: "Here. Where are you from?"
Man: "Milpitas."
Me: "Where is your accent from?"
Man: "Guess!" (side note: I hate this game.)
Me: "Peru."
Man: "No. Israel! *pause* May I have your number?"
Me: "No."
Man: "No?"
Me: "No."
Man: "Ok, I am going back to my friends, then." *he leaves
{Did he really think it was going to be that easy? He didn't even ask for a dance first.}

Another man:
Him: "Do you have a drink?"
Me: "No."
Him: "You don't drink?"
Me: "No, I am driving home."
Him: "So, you will have no alcohol?"
Me: "No."
Him: "Oh." *he turns on his heal and leaves without even closing the conversation. I guess talking to a sober girl is clearly a waste of his time.

This went on for hours. I am SO glad to be home.
BTW: I LOVE THE WORD NO! :D

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Close but No Cigar

My best friend in the whole world is Danish, and since the first grade when we met, we agreed that we would travel to Denmark together. Well, we have yet to make that happen, but we visited the next closest spot (figuratively and physically): Solvang. This cute little coastal town is a Danish city right here in California. Adorable. I get the feeling, though, that Denmark will be much more fulfilling.



Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Help Her Out!

I visited Venice Beach, CA to see the famous Muscle Beach. I was more excited about this stop than any other on our road trip. :D Upon our arrival, my travel companion called her mother who said, "Venice Beach? Why would you go there? That's where the help lives!" Well, this is what I get for traveling with a self proclaimed Spoiled Child. (I am pretty sure that my travel buddy enjoyed the stop too, though.) We checked out the weight machines, the gymnastics equipment and the surrounding shops. Then, after we were through getting our kicks out of a few failed attempts at the gymnastics rings, we headed for the beach.

A couple of babes like up draw a lot of attention, but only one guy that day at the water's edge had the guts to make conversation with us. We told him of our adventures so far and the plans for the rest of our trip, at which point he asked if we'd be seeing the Playboy Mansion. While I would have loved that, I let him know that I had already done my research and found that because it is a private residence, the Mansion does not give tours. "Oh ya," he said, "I forgot that not just anybody can get in because I'm there all the time."
Whaaat???

He finally had my attention. "What do you doing at the Playboy Mansion all the time?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm part of the staff. I work at the Mansion."

Oh no! After a day of telling my friend to be open-minded, the one person that we encounter at Venice Beach fits the profile of those who she and her family generally avoid! I can just see her going home and telling her friends and family, "Mom was right- Venice Beach is just where the help is." What a shame. She, her family, and anyone else in that mind set will miss out on a beautiful city with blue skies, nice guys, soft sand, warm water, great surfing, and of course, muscle men.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Home of Manly-Men

For those of you who seek the burly man in uniform, who most likely sleeps with a gun under his bed (even though he himself could qualify as weapon in comparison the average civilian), then look no further than Fallbrook, CA. Located just outside of Camp Pendleton in sunny Southern California, this small town is populated with -you guessed it- Marines! And Mexicans, it is So Cal after all lol. Of the few men with whom I spoke, they had seriously high levels of testosterone and aggression, and seriously low levels of manners, domestic abilities, and generally all those other things that make you seem normal in a standard social setting. So for all those Suzy Home-makers out there looking for a Real Man, then look no further- Fallbrook is the place to be.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Make Love, Not Assumptions

I took a friend from Miami to Haight and Ashbury to check out the place where the hippie movement started. We spotted a modern-day version of a hippie with a card board sign that read, "free hugs". My friend was sceptical and even her mother who only heard about it over the phone responded with, "she probably would pick your pocket while you hugged her". How sad. The revolution still has a long way to go. This is San Francisco people, show some love.


For those of you who don't know:

How to "spread some CalTrain love" according to the driver of a fully-occupied train who just happened to be leaving the station from San Francisco one of those days I was visiting this beautiful city: "Make room- no feet on the seats, no bags on the seats- sit down, shake a hand, and make a friend." Now that's what it's all about!

Friday, September 4, 2009

Oil, Water, Fire

As we drove into Santa Barbara, the thickening layer of smoke overhead was a suffocating reminder that the surrounding hills were on fire. So, naturally, we headed for the water!-- Only in retrospect do I realize that not even this ocean could save us if the flames came close because of the tip a friend gave me: the beaches in this city are soiled by oil spills. While the sand and water appear clean, you'll later notice the blackness on your feet as you leave the beach. (Windex will take care of that!) The oil riggers dotting the horizon confirmed this warning, so we avoided the beach and visited Stearn's Wharf. -- Stearn's Wharf was a beautiful little tourist trap with free validated parking after a purchase at a gift shop. The ocean breeze kept the smoke out of the air, and the large pelicans and sea lions kept the wonder in the air. It's amazing that the wildlife continues to survive despite our filth. I'm afraid that one day we'll find the joke's on us.