Wallflower

Well, this is likely going to be the most boring post of my blog thus far. I've been stateside for about 3 weeks now, and have had the most dull experience of my summer. Everyone around me is moving and getting things ready for vacations or big moves, but I will reside here in the house. Doing work, working out, yardwork, housework, soon homework; work, work, work, all I do is boring ol' work. I work a double shift tomorrow, and had an eight hour shift today. It's not to no benefit, as I did just purchase a shining new HP laptop. The thing is glorious, and it works when I want it to. (All I ever wanted my damn Dell to do) Fingerprint recognition is pretty cool too. All this money is going to start getting saved though, as I've quit some of my costlier habits cold-turkey. It's relieving really, to know I have the kind of financial reassurance in the bank that would allow me to up and move to a new city if that's what I wanted. I will, however, be cutting hours for a couple weeks. I just need to learn to balance things a bit better. Sometimes I forget that there is a medium between a 45 hour workweek and bumming around substitute teaching kids for two shifts a week. The only real anxiety reducers that are running in my system are Coltrane, ibuprofen, and the occasional visit from CatHawk's baby German Shepherd. The funny part about dogsitting is that I'd totally take care of puppies all day for free. It's kinda nice company in an otherwise empty house. I'd always considered myself a loner-type, but the last two weeks have proved otherwise. I don't get to see the friends I know and love very often anymore, and it's a treat when there's more than two of us in the same room; however, the people I know and endure seem to call every time they're on this side of Pensacola. I see people all the time, but I see real friends once a month-ish. That needs to change now that I'm back.
I will find you people:

Nose To the Grind, (No Toes Involved)

Well, Pensacola is definitely still Pensacola. There are some minor, subtle differences, but for the most part, I still don't love this town. The last week has been spent running on fumes and trying to avoid sleep. The reason for my bed's lack of buddytime is due to yardwork, Starbucks, and time spent trying to hang out with old and new friends. It's hard when old friends come into town, because I expect to hang out 24/7 and so do they; it's just impossible to accomplish when everyone lives on the exact opposite side of town. I work and live near UWF, and Gulf Breeze is the go-to place for all of my high school buddies. I'd love to be able to spend the entire Blue Angel weekend drinking and 'beaching it' with select friends, but I have work and chores/responsibilities that beckon with each beer that befalls my tummy. For the non-Pensacola natives (lucky jerks) that don't know what Blue Angel weekend is: it's an entire weekend dedicated to some of the best pilots in the Navy that put on air shows for the drunken spectators at Pensacola Beach. I got an inside look at the pilots the other night, as I was invited to a buffet/banquet that existed to show gratitude to the pilot aces. It was an invite-only party at the Hilton that had fancy food and expensive (but nasty) beer. I arrived late due to a last-minute airport pickup, and got there in time to watch these peacock-people prance around with a bunch of local lifeguards. I can understand why they strut like alpha males, because it's a group of accomplished, handsome (for the most part), pilots. They really are alpha males, but for the love of all that's good, I can't appreciate people when they're cockier than most WWF fighters. It's when they list accomplishments and walk on a stage and smile great big for a crowd that I can follow along and clap. When they get off stage and have been drinking and hitting on girls my age, not WOMEN... ugh it's just disgusting. They probably get to do that all year, in every city across the USA. How could somebody parade around with a mentality of deustchbaggery that exceeds the norm FOR PILOTS?
After the banquet, the lifeguards AKA my friends, got recognized for putting up with retarded amounts of people that flock to the beach to drown this weekend. That was pretty cool. I have tremendous amounts of respect for some of my lifeguard friends. I followed my good ole' high school boys to Flounder's after the banquet to drink, but had such a long day I couldn't cope with being shoulder to shoulder with drunken beach trash. It was a twelve hour day at Starbucks, as the new guy is in the hospital, and two people are out of town. Making my pockets lined with green is always nice.
Forty+ hours serving jerks their nasty drinks isn't my idea of fun, but I've decided I'm going to find a new job so I don't have to complain anymore. Along the lines of veterinary clinics and wildlife sanctuaries is what I'm thinking. I'd rather be helping animals that can't talk than serving people who talk too much. At the moment I'm composing a list of chores I need to get done today...None of which include either booze or fun. Mostly just sweat and toil. Yay. Maybe just one golf course loop on the new board....heh.

The Boys Are Back In Town

Finally, a computer and some time to write another piece of this blog. We're home in Pensacola, finally fixing up the months of letting the house sit. But let me backtrack for a minute. I left off when we were approaching the 'redwoods'. I know now that the redwoods are actually composed of several different types of tree that all tower over normal trees. I know it may sound strange, but I didn't expect there to be so many big trees. I understood there would be huge sequoias, but there were miles and miles of them! We drove through the mountains, and got to see tons of beautiful white-capped range and evergreen giants. I kept asking if we were in the redwoods yet, but they kept enlarging with each coming hill. The Avenue of the Giants was the pinnacle of gigantic treedom. With diameters upwards of eight feet, the trees made me feel like a dwarf squirrel. We took a large quantity of pictures and then slept at Miranda Garden Inn. (Very cool, right in the middle of the forest!) The next morning dad took us on a rollercoaster ride, playing with the AWD of the Chevy Traverse he rented. A long while was spent driving from there to San Fransisco, and the scenery between was just breathtaking. Cali-splendor at it's finest. When we passed Crescent City I got to stop in a very old surf shop. Think Innerlight (Pensacola locals) but ancient. I bought a deck for my longboard that had some sweet griptape, and an amazing bend in the ride. I got to ride on the long winding highways of California, and if you know me, you know that's all I could want. We only really had half a day in San Fran, so I spent it all off Haight-Ashebury streets. The locals were wild, and the pizza was righteous. I had pesto and roasted tomatoes on mine, but the highlight for me was using the restroom in that place. The graffiti sort of twirled in a trippy fashion from the kitchen (which I had to walk through, cool right?)all the way to the toilet at the end of the hall. It was everything a budding hippy could ask for, and then some. I got a genuine tie-dye shirt by one of the guys who did a Grateful Dead album-art backdrop, which was the highlight of San Fran. The Marriott we stayed at there was the best bed I'd slept in since home (almost 2 months ago) and I still don't have my bed here at home. The deal about my house is that I fix it up as I live in it, and my dad pays for the rent. Well, he actually bought the house, so there IS no rent, but the labour is enough to drive a man insane. Just today we fixed doorstops, fridges, carpeting, the washer, and scoped out the driveway. Also, I mowed. And started raking. And tomorrow I have eight hours of work. It's all good though, because as I said, no rent, and we got to gobble up at Beef O Brady's. Gotta love rednecks and good food.