By Ricardo Camacho ’27
I found myself reminiscing recently, thinking back to the trips that didn’t just fill up space in my camera roll, but still linger softly in my chest. This past school year brought so many wonderful memories and adventures that I still cherish deeply, but two stood out: moments with friends from both Pomona and home that twinkled with the kind of warmth you want to keep forever. Here’s a peek into some of those moments. Enjoy!
There aren’t many in my family who share a birthday close to mine. One of the so-called perks—or so I’ve been told—of being the only relative born at the cusp of the new year (December 28th, to be exact) is that I get to soak in all the attention. Many of my relatives have birthdays just days apart, so their celebrations naturally come in pairs. Meanwhile, I always end up alone in front of the cake—all eyes on me, waiting for each flame to be extinguished and for a wish to quietly brush the air. And, honestly, I’ve never liked it. Perhaps that’s what happens when you grow up watching your younger brother and cousin, your mom and aunt, slice their cakes together—you get a bit envious. There’s always been something a little strange about being the only one at the center of it all. I’ve often wished there was someone beside me in those moments.
I like to think the world knew I was hoping for a birthday companion and brought me Jenet. For as long as I can remember, we’ve combined our birthday celebrations—her birthday falling just a few days before mine—turning what once felt a bit empty into something so full of laughter, love, and the kind of joy that stays long after our candles go out.
During the final weeks of the past fall semester, our birthday weekend took us to the serene shores of San Luis Obispo, where the ocean breeze felt like a gift in itself and our laughter echoed well into the night. And to top it all off, we were blessed with the kind of views that looked straight out of a postcard—cliffs melting effortlessly into the calmest waves, skies streaked with pastel oranges and golden yellows, and sunsets so still and stunning, they force you to stop and take it all in. It was the kind of weekend that reminded me how lucky I am—not just for the beautiful places I got to see, but for the people who made those places unforgettable simply by being there with me.
That feeling of shared joy rippled far past the coast of San Luis Obispo and followed me into spring break, where I spent unforgettable days exploring the vibrant and hippie charm of San Francisco with my closest friends at Pomona. Between the countless vintage stores, cozy bookshops, cafés, and historic neighborhoods we wandered through, that time felt like a whimsical whirl. Being in a new city with friends who are just as open to spontaneity and adventure certainly made the week feel all the more electric as well—each street corner held something unexpected, each hour unfolded with more impromptu food crawls, gallery pop-ins, and sidewalk serenades from the lovely locals.
Perhaps the best part of it all, though, was bringing one of our friends to the city for the first time. I’ll never forget the joy of watching her eyes light up at the skyline, the steep hills, the mosaic-covered stairways, and murals tucked between buildings—and of truly soaking in the beauty of being a tourist in it all. I’ll miss the absurdly good eats we stumbled into without a plan, the thrifted treasures we somehow had the luck to find (shoutout Haight-Ashbury!), and the slow evenings we spent walking with nowhere to be. But at least I have the strip of black-and-white photo booth pictures to always remember it by. I have no doubt that our week in San Francisco will become one of those treasured chapters in our friendship—one we’ll come back to time and time again.
Through the magic of it all—the ocean air and city chaos—I’m deeply grateful to have shared these moments with people who remind me just how much joy truly lives in all the little things: split birthday cakes, endless late-night talks, and those weightless moments so full of feeling, they don’t even need words to be remembered. I can’t wait to keep chasing more of that—more joy, more laughter, and more time with the people who make the world feel a bit brighter and endlessly more alive.
