Just fucking stupid

I'm sorry. It's Monday, and I have like seven goddamned homework assignments but I feel the pull to blog.

I know Mondays are especially hard, and the more fun your weekend is, the more difficult your Monday is. It almost makes you suicidal, for like 8 hours. I want you to imagine your best Spring Break vacation ever, the kind where you party, meet and drink with amazing people, and not worry for 9 days. Do you remember how you felt on the Monday you had to return to the real world? It's completely depressing! You just can't stop thinking, "that was so crazy ridiculously fun, all I wanna do is go back." I mean hell I remember just sitting in class looking through pictures of Spring Break thinking maybe I shouldn't have even gone on Spring Break to avoid the post-vacation depression. This is how my Mondays are every week!

Well I actually took the time to research it to provide evidence for my thesis (English teacher taught me well). Check out what I discovered on wikipedia, [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Post-vacation_blues]. According to this the feelings after a vacation are THE SAME/SIMILAR to those on a Monday or after a party! I fucking told you so!

So if you party all weekend, then when it's over you'll be experience both the "post-party" and "Monday blues" at the same time! Which of course fucking synergizes to create this garbage need to party. In conclusion, right now I feel like I can't do ANYTHING but party.

I mean don't get me wrong, Saturday night was the best party I've ever been to. They had this stupid dance floor with a stupid DJ with stupid fog machines and stupid strobe lights. And I got stupid drunk of course. I mean there was pretty much no aspect of Saturday night that made any semblance to intelligence.

So then you wake up on Sunday morning and just bask in your own memories, which are played back like a fucked up VHS tape due to your level of inebriation. A bigass grin falls on your face and you're formidably satisfied with you whole weekend. But then it hits you. It's over! You have to wait all the way to Friday to do it again! And guess what's between Sunday and Friday? A whole week of school! You have to work your ass off to earn your next weekend! Like what the hell how gay is that!?

And that my children, is why the average GPA of college students is low.

Totes got the invite

Alright. Fuck the chill tone. Fuck the kava right now. Fuck the vacation music. It is 9:45 on a Friday right now and uhhhh I'm going out in like a half hour. One second let me google the location of this party right quick.

Ok it's cool I got the loc. So this is in Air Force party I got invited to. Should be clutch. Ok. Tangent time.

I fucking love getting the invite to parties. Like it's one thing to throw a party, it's another thing to just like end up going to a party, and crashing a party is another way in. But no, like receiving a text or phone call or facebook message that specifically invites you to a party just warms my heart. That means that someone, somewhere, is having a party. And that certain someone (which could be extended down a few degrees of separation) thinks that the party would be more fun with YOU attending. That's basically a low key way of saying "You're fucking awesome, let's drink together. Tonight. At this address." And poof. I'm there.

So getting focused. I sent in my preliminary application for Kenya. Drinking Kenyan coffee on a Friday evening means more to me now. Knowing I might visit the heart of Africa in less than a year is messing with my mind. It's over-exciting me. However it's motivating me to do better in school so I can be competitive for the scholarship. Fingers crossed.

So earlier this week I kinda had that anti-partying attitude. I got over it. Like I said I'm going out tonight. And I believe it was like Monday or Tuesday when I decided that I'm not going to drink until Thanksgiving. Yet now back at the party going hard. I kinda feel like I can't stop partying. Weezer and Lil Wayne feel my pain.

I'm actually excited for Spring Break 12. It's coming up and I'm assuming if nothing else comes up, I'm going to Panama. I wanna recall last spring break for a little bit. Yeah that'd be nice.

So Spring Break 11 was actually the reason this blog was created. It was so I could continually write for 170 days until spring break arrived at my feet. It was a distraction so I could enjoy the little things in life (like hiking boots and "vedge time") until I partied nonstop for a week.

And soon enough spring break hit me up like a sober floozie tryna drink and I was off to the caribb. And as expected I partied for a week straight! It was fantastic! I was dancing and drinking and not puking and spring breaking like it was meant to be! I was drinking every other night!

Yes I was going pretty damn hard for a senior in high school. Swim up bars and shots on the beach and the list goes on. Taking shots until I couldn't think. Waking up being unable to eat anything heavy.

It's so funny to think about that shit now. In retrospect, if you compare it to college, it's highly unimpressive. Which means when my first spring break of college rolls around things might get interesting. Well I'm gonna go to this party. Until next time...

Situational Irony

What's up world. Chill music: check. Kava tea: check. Relaxed mindset: check. Thursday night checklist complete, welcome to my blog. It's been a chill week, after last weekend's 72-hour party I've kinda been thinking about everything but partying, hold my Wednesday morning post.

I want to start out by talking about when vacations end. As you probably know, I live for my vacations. And since they don't come around very often I'm forced to make the most out of vacations. During vacations people tend to dread the last few hours. E.g. at 4:00am on a cruise ship before it returns to Miami, you don't see a smile on many faces. However, you will likely see a smile on mine. Vacations don't end when you check out of the hotel. Contrary to popular belief, the vacation ends when you return home. This means that the drive, flight, or even walk home is to be enjoyed.

On a Sunday afternoon, if you walk through the Miami Airport you will see a lot of hungover and stressed out Debbie-downers who don't realize that the party ain't over yet. If I look back to the times I've traveled home from vacations, I recollect good memories. Yes, it was on the flight home from Los Angeles when I sipped Merlot to relaxing views of the interior of a 767. It was on the flight home from Miami when I was stranded at O'hare for 9 hours and actually had the time of my life. It was on the 24 hour drive home from Salt Lake City, Utah when I grabbed a mocha and some beef jerky and simply enjoyed the views of Wyoming in the back seat of a rental car. I couldn't imagine traveling home from a vacation spending the entire ride fretting the return to real life. Just relax, and assume yourself still on vacation for the next 2 hour until your flight returns to Louisville. Once your attitude changes, your stress seems to dissipate. You're fucking welcome.

One of my favorite aspects of this blog is the situational irony. My future self knows everything between the time of me writing this, and his point in life. That means whenever I blog about something anticipated or currently unknown, my future self will read it and know what ends up happening to me.

I might go to Kenya next summer. I might not. I might spend three months learning Swahili and exploring the African countryside. I literally do not know how long I've been craving to go to Africa. Looking back in journals I've written it's at least a year in a half. This is where situational irony greets me at the door and goes forth to piss me off. This is where due to separate possibilities, I actually acquire a second "future self".

The first "future self", let's call him Decker-1, actually gets accepted into the little James Madison study abroad program and also gets the full scholarship. Decker-1 is probably pretty damn happy if he's reading this in like April. He's probably thinking, "Wow this is the day in my life where I found out I might be going to Kenya, and here I am, going to Kenya." He's probably gonna kiss his girlfriend goodbye in a few weeks and ship off to Africa. Decker-1's got it fucking made. Decker-1 better read this in April or May, have some tea, and put on chill music. No, not chill music. Put on the song "Africa" by Toto, because that's what present-Decker would do. And he'd go for a walk. Actually no, fuck walks. He'd go for a run. And since it's warm outside because it's April he better go for a run shirtless. Decker-1's got it made doesn't he?

Unfortunately that leads us to the second "future self", Decker-2. Decker-2 doesn't end up going to Africa. This is where shit gets awkward. Decker-2 is gonna read this in April and smile and think that I (present-Decker) is a dumbass. He'll read all that crap a paragraph up about kissing his girlfriend goodbye, going for a run, all that nonsense and think, "yeah I'm still going to work at the Y, still gonna do my thing, whatever." Hell Decker-2 might even be going somewhere COOLER than Kenya. But long story short Decker-2 is probably not too thrilled reading this. Sorry Decker-2, I tried.

So whichever version of my future self is reading this, I hope you're going to Kenya. I have nothing else to discuss tonight. For some reason all I can think about is Kenya. I apply tomorrow. I really want to go. Either way, I'll go somewhere eventually. I mean I'm gonna be a pilot, I can't do my job unless I'm going somewhere. Until next time...

Changes in Aspects of Partying in College Life

Okay. So I only have like less than a half hour to blog right now, but I feel this is like at the top of my mind right now so bombs away.

The challenge of balancing school and partying dramatically grown more difficult over the past few weeks. I find myself regularly going out on Thursdays now, I find myself missing classes and ROTC jargon due to the extent of my partying. Which means I have to tone it down. It's really no big deal, I just gotta focus.

College changes several aspects of partying, which I find fascinating. First and foremost, college parties have removed status from the equation. Do you remember back in the high school days when having more than one party to go to at a certain time meant you were at the top? Everyone plays it off in high school like they don't care if they get invited to parties, but deep down EVERYONE gets excited over it. Now in college there is simply no status involved with going to a party (there is if you do it right, but I'll get into that at a later date). Now that there are parties every night, and finding them is easy, you can party as much as you want to and no one gives a fuck! Your friends may see you as an "alcoholic" if you party every single night, and you may "drop out" due to your lack of academic discipline, but you certainly aren't viewed socially superior in any way.

Second change in college partying: Responsibility. The entire aspect of responsibility has been amplified by a factor of ten. You have to govern yourself on how much to drink, when to drink,  keeping out of a bad situation, etc. Of course high school partying had no or little parental advising, i.e. no one was telling you what to do; but it's easy to let the fact that you have to physically see your parents the following day govern you into doing the right thing and not going overboard. It's 8:30am on a Wednesday morning and I could get hammered right now. Without much trouble I'd probably find people to do it with. Put on some Roscoe Dash and BAM you have a party at 8:30am Wednesday morning. In high school the simple fact that you're constantly appeasing your parents even at a subconscious level will keep you from partying right now. But in college, who is to tell you what to do? Long story short you have to govern yourself, which seems completely obvious and is something that every adult has been telling you about college since 8th grade, but so many people completely miss the point. It's more than going to class sober, it's retraining your subconsciousness to stop you from doing stupid shit; you will no longer get in immediate "trouble" for your actions.

The combination of those two aspects I present lead me to actually differ from partying. It is difficult. Senior year of high school has trained me to be an opportunist when it comes to alcohol consumption. Will I completely abandon partying for the rest of my career? Probably not because that's not the point of my theology. But since I no longer party for rebellious and social-hierarchical reasons then what purpose does my beloved partying hold? I'll figure that out later. Until then...

I want a space ship

Good evening everyone. And uh, it's Thursday. I'm relaxing sipping my tea. I had Air Force Lead Lab, I had my classes, I had PT, and now it's Thursday night and I'm done for the week. My weekend starts now. I remember a few weeks ago, hell even a year ago, I said the weekend starts on Thursday. However despite saying this, I truly considered Thursday to be more of a soft transition into the real weekend. Now that weekdays have been increased in toughness and intensity, I find it imperative that weekends truly start on Thursdays. Thursdays are really filled with magic and wonder once you start thinking about it; the harder your work-week is, the more sacred Thursday becomes. Ok facebook status that shit. Nowadays I find myself looking at the clock around 2:30 on a Thursday afternoon thinking, "Only 5 hours of this week left" and then thanking God. Those 5 hours have passed and my week is now over, so I can go forth to relax to my thoughts, music, and tea.

I want a space ship. And I'm picky about it too. I don't want a shitty small one that can only fit a chimpanzee and lands in the Gulf of Mexico. No. I want a big one that has like multiple wings and a master bedroom. I wanna be able to design it, like lay it out on paper and make it just for me. Then I wanna take it on like massive voyages that take like a week to complete. Every now and then I would like to hop in my space ship and leave this world for a little bit. There'll be a coffee maker on my ship and a nice bay window with a clear view of the final frontier where I can sit back in my cool space recliner and sip some tribute. It would be the ultimate escape, I would do nothing for the entire week. In fact I wouldn't even be able to be selfish enough to go it alone, I'd have quarters made for my best friends in the world. Karen, Doug, Alex, my boys, Katie, Becca, their dates, everyone I love would be doing this voyage with me. We'd chill and relax all the time, not worrying about a thing, just looking at space nebulas and distant stars.

Then after a few days we'd start to become rambunctious. That is when I would lead my friends to a section of the ship they'd never seen before, I'd step behind a bar and start popping bottles. Rum, tequila, bourbon, BEER, and Ice for the ladies, I'd have it stocked in my space ship and we'd have a great night pumping good music and sipping tasteful cocktails. We'd get inebriated and take a look out the small porthole laced with bolts and titanium. We'd realize that we're on the top of the world, but we wouldn't give a fuck! We'd keep drinking, and keep having fun. We'd wake up in the morning in our cool space beds with a hangover handcrafted from hell. We'd stumble to the dining hall (yes, my spaceship has a dining HALL) and eat eggs and bacon and sip Vitamin Water: Revive and we'd smile at the simple fact that we're having a great time on our space ship.

And after we've had our fun and leisure, our ship would return home. We'd have a lazy last day, lounging around doing nothing. Our ship would automatically be guided back to Earth and touch down at some strip of runway, and we'd disembark. We wouldn't be sad our trip was over, we'd be nothing but refreshed. We'd be ready to step back into the world and put up with society's bullshit with a smile. We'd always think back to the infinite amounts of fun we had together on our space journey. It would help us put up with the negative things in life, and help us look forward to the positive.

I didn't realize this until about half-way through writing it, but what I just described was a vacation. I was in deep thought last night as I fell asleep, about the very topic of custom space ships. It was half-fantasy, half-dream. I basically dreamt up that spaceship and how nice it'd be. Then when I actually wrote it down I discovered that a cool week-long space vacation is pretty much the same as any week-long vacation. It gives you the opportunity to not worry for a week, to let go of inhibitions for a week, to party and relax at the same time. And that opportunity is drastically necessary! My week long space vacation almost exactly describes a Caribbean cruise. In the end, we'd be recharged to face another big chunk of bullshit for the future. And that's why I love vacations.

I've recently slipped out of the zone. Surely you know what the zone is, but in case you don't I'll elaborate. The "zone", as I call it, is the binding mental force that drives you to do spectacular things without problem. It is how I can get up at 6am and then go to class and then do homework, and NOT bitch about it. The zone is almost synonymous with motivation. Getting to the point, SOMEHOW I've slipped out of it. It was like 3 weeks when I simply was not in the zone. And it is very difficult to keep doing all this shit when you're just not in the zone. I don't know what caused me to suddenly not give a fuck, but luckily I am, in fact, back in the zone. And that is because I all of the sudden had some late realization about becoming a pilot.

Due to a couple of factors, I suddenly realized how close I am to achieving my number 1 goal of becoming a pilot. I have everything I need to get there, I have been doing everything so far. This is a very hard transition for me. Put yourself in my shoes, I've been dreaming to become a pilot for 18 years now. All of the sudden, my actions are directly affecting the outcome of that goal. Up until now, there wasn't much I could do to contribute to my pilot slot, and now there is. As long as my PT scores and GPA remain high, all I need to do is wait TWO FUCKING YEARS. Needless to say I'm excited. I'm like a kid in November, I can see my Christmas presents, but it's still sooooooo far away! And I'm determined. It's what keeps me in the zone. I'm gonna be a pilot. I don't care. Shut up. I'm gonna be a pilot.

I'm done blogging for tonight. I hope you enjoyed reading my shit. If you didn't, it's not for you so don't be a dick. I will hopefully get my drink on tonight and "shoot" my way into the weekend. Pun intended. Thank you. Until next time... Have a good night everyone.

Going to a teen club and hitting on 15 year old floozies is NOT partying. Sorry.

Gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo friday afternoon. My coffee pot dripped a little onto the burner and is disturbing me with the smell of burned coffee. And it keeps sizzling which is kind of annoying. Get over yourself coffee pot. Stop acting like a child.

Coffee today is actually a bit on the extra bold side. See what happened is one of my neighbors, Jose, is from Columbia and has a cool three pounds of fresh ground coffee and gave me enough for like 4 cups. So I made like 2 cups out of it so it's actually pretty strong this afternoon. And it's not bad actually. Props to Jose.

It's actually been less than 24 hours since my last post. This is a rare occasion. Fucking enjoy it.

So last night was one of those nights that I will remember for the rest of my life. It wasn't one of those night's where in a year you're like "oh yeah I forgot about that", no this is just one of those night's that make an impression. I actually finally broke down and partied on a Thursday night. Pause.

Mind you, I did not go out. I'm not sure how many times I've defined partying in this blog but partying is the combination of 3 things. Girls. Alcohol. And Music. If you have those three things then you were, in effect, partying. Doesn't mean you went to a party. Just means that you partied. I hate it when people get that confused. And another thing I hate is when people are lacking like 1-2 of the 3 necessities yet they still say they're partying. Like having a beer with your dad is NOT partying. Doing shots of heaven hill (which doesn't even deserve proper capitalization) with a bunch of guys is NOT partying. Going to a teen club and hitting on 15 year old floozies is NOT partying. Sorry. Just shut up and don't call it partying.

Resume. So I was relaxing to some tea, getting a jump on math homework I didn't wanna reserve for today, and I became sidetracked and went to chill with Jamal and two girls who practically live on my floor. We're chilling and one thing lead to another and now we're doing shots of coconut rum delicioso in the dorm out of my "I'm in Miami Bitch" shot glass.

Ok so I know it's against my "code" to party on a Thursday night. Like I specifically remember making the conscious decision to only party on weekends. Then I decided that Thursday night was a weekend but I was only to party on a Thursday if the conditions were right for it. And honestly conditions couldn't be more perfect last night. I had just done two midterms, it was the halfway point in the semester, and for once in a while I didn't have anything to worry about.

It's reasons like last night that I love my dorm room. Like fucking admit it. It's just straight relaxing to gaze into my beachy-ass posters and take a sip of coconut-rum-spiked-coffee while kicking back to the sweet sounds of my vacation playlist.

I took my decorations to the exterior today. I got a picture of South Beach and put a Chris Brown quote about partying to it and taped it up on the door. I think it serves as a sign. Kinda like saying "Look if you're gonna step foot in this room you're gonna be chill and you're not gonna chase away the party." That's what room #808 is all about. Fucking get with it.

Here's an observation I made last time I was in the gym. Sometimes, there are rooms that simply don't have clocks. Like they just didn't invest the couple of dollars into buying a public-use time piece. And I think I know why. I think there are some organizations that just don't want you to stress over what time it is. Take for example, cruise ships. You will find very few clocks on cruise ships. Why? Because you're on a fucking cruise ship, don't worry about it. You don't need to know the time, you have no schedule, all you know is that in like a couple of days your cruise will end. I was quite excited while in the Johnson Center when I couldn't find any clocks. I thought to myself, "Ahh ok. This is obviously a place of peace and therefore I don't need to know what time it is." I was quite happy to be a part of such a open-minded gym. Then about ten minutes later I noticed the big clock up on the center wall that I somehow had missed. Oh well, it was a cool thought while it lasted.

So today we were learning about different love types in Communication. And one of the slides said "This love..." which made me think of the song "this love" by maroon 5. And I was like "that's such a chill song, I'm gonna listen to it later." And like three hours later it came on the radio in the gym. And I was like "Ahhh that's my song! Sweet!" Then, AS I'M WRITING THIS, it comes on Pandora. Like are you serious!? I'm getting the full "This Love" dose today! Fuck yeah!

Alright enough vacation chill shit. Time to get serious. I wanna know where my obsession with status went. Like I can't find it. It's gone. Like I specifically remember, and it's also in stuff I've written in the past, that from like Spring 2010 until recently I've defined myself by status. Like I stressed over it. I had to be drinking the RIGHT bottle. I had to fly on the RIGHT airline through the RIGHT layovers to the RIGHT destinations. I had to attend and throw the RIGHT parties. I had to bump the RIGHT music in the parking lot before school. The list goes on. Long story short, my decisions were based on where they would get me in the eyes of others.

For example. I went to Los Angeles (twice) to see a friend. And both times I milked the shit out of it. I made sure everyone's News Feeds were just clogged with the cool shit I'm doing. Because I have more status than you, you need to be jealous of me.

AND ALL THE SUDDEN it's over. Now I don't give a shit how much the bottle of tequila cost for the night's pregaming. Like maybe the first couple of nights at UK I cared about status. Getting kicked out of a frat party: high status. Yeah that's right I'm in the Air Force BITCH: high status. Yeah I party with famous basketball players no big deal: high status. But after about a week or two, I didn't give a shit. I guess I had more important things to stress about, I had to make room.

This coffee isn't very good. I mean it's strong and decent, but I was expecting better. Oh well when you drink Tribute every morning you get pretty damn picky about coffee.

So I'm going home (again) this weekend. Doug is as well. We shall smoke fine cigars and drink cold beers all night long. That sounds so chill I can't fucking wait.

Here's something interesting. Take the words "beer" and "cigars". What do you think of? I think of average beers, and average cigars. Which equates to an average night. But what if I changed it up and we looked at the words "cold beer" and "fine cigars". The entire connotation changes. It's incredible. All once you make the distinction that the malt is in fact colder than the planets, and the cigars are finely wrapped Ashton leafs, suddenly it's a classy night which will likely be enjoyed. I love that!

Well I guess I should go home. I'm almost done with my two cups of coffee. And of course you know the rules I can't stop blogging until I finish BOTH cups. Ok I'm done. And I'm also done writing. Good shit. Have a good weekend everyone! Until next time...

I wouldn't get to fly....

Good evening. Yeah I know. It's Thursday night. What am I doing blogging? Well it's because I feel like it. I was considering going out tonight. In fact I was planning on going out tonight. But like, it's kinda rainy, and cold, and I just wanna like sit in my warm dorm room with a hoodie, sip some tea and just be on my chill level. So here I am. On my chill level, blogging away.

So I'd hate to start out this blog post negatively, but real talk this needs to be addressed. Where the fuck are my hiking boots. It is October 13th and I haven't worn my trusty Merril's since like May. I miss the relaxing comfort they provided on my walks through school. And now that my walks are legit, and outdoors, I would really appreciate some good shoes. I remember back in the Room334 days, back in the dias de Hobbs, I would talk about walking around Eastern in those boots. I can feel the support on my feet right now. It was like burying your feet in sand, then the sand become weightless and you could walk around with the entire beach at your feet. And since they're hiking boots you would take that beach on your feet up mountains, and traverse through jungles and ravines. It was comfort through the most rugged conditions, like flying first class in a C-17 through Afghanistan. Hiking boots are the result of comfort meeting power, like a Bugatti speeding down the autobahn at 180. So seriously where the fuck are my hiking boots?

I'm so fucking CHILL right now. Like I haven't been this calm and relaxed in so long. It's blissful. And you know what else? I love blogging so much. It's something about the freedom to write about ANYTHING that pops into your head. Like I just thought of something while texting Doug, and after this paragraph I'm gonna write about it. Why? Cuz I can. And I know that know one's really gonna read it. Two or three people tops: Karen will read it because she likes reading everything I write and I don't know why; Alex will likely read it because he just IMed me saying he was going to read it when I finished.

And who else is gonna read it? Probably no one. What I find fascinating is that my parents don't read this. I remind them that I write in a blog like once a month at least. I even tell them the website address. Like I'm inviting ma and pa to read it and they never seem to pick up the hint. I admit all in this blog. I admit just about everything that rattles around in my head. I admit even to lying to my parents. So the fact that they don't even fucking read it makes me think just "whatever".

I've decided I need to listen to the song "I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz like at least once a week. Necessity.

In other news, one of the UK Core Stats classes is doing a project which requires students to conduct surveys. And I don't know why, but I enjoy taking them. I've done like 5 tonight. They're fun. I wish to take more.

I have been working and stressing to an unhealthy extent recently. As a coping mechanism, which I really only slightly understand, I've been fantasizing. However, instead of thinking up your typical fantasies about wealth and success, I've been doing the exact opposite. I often catch myself fantasizing about dropping out of college and Air Force ROTC, picking up a job as a truck driver, and smoking hella weed and relaxing in my truck to the soft music of The Beach Boys for the rest of my life. I wouldn't ever have to worry. I wouldn't have to stress day and night over a number. I wouldn't have to wake up at 6:00am to run around for an hour. I wouldn't have to spend hours and hours doing 30 problems of basic chemistry while everyone surrounding me gets high, eats chips, and watches looney tunes for 2 hours. I wouldn't have to do anything. I would just drive my truck, have a nice stop at Arby's, get some beef jerky for the road, and sit in my comfy chair.

It's complicated though. The amazing thing about these counter-intuitive fantasies is that at the end of the day, it's not actually what I want. If I lived out my fantasy, yeah I wouldn't have to do shit. But then I wouldn't get to come home to proud parents, a proud girlfriend, and a proud ego. I wouldn't get to show off the number I worked so hard for. I wouldn't get to see the world. I wouldn't become wealthy. With no pride, no money, and nothing to have to back up all my hard work, what would I be? I wouldn't get to look down on people, because I wouldn't be above anyone. I wouldn't deserve anything but a $6 meal at Arby's, a bag of beef jerky, and a comfy chair.

I wouldn't get to fly. It's impossible to stay focused even though all I do is push for that number. It's like swimming through bricks, you get to the half way point and think, "Wait, why the fuck am I swimming through bricks?" Then you start to have to remind yourself.

It's every morning, "Well, it's 6:00am. There's a C-17 out there with an incomplete preflight checklist, and someone's gotta be there in 6 years to do it. But right now it's 6:00am. And I have to be at PT in 20 minutes. And I have to finish my homework by tomorrow night. And I have to study for my midterm..." Then I go to PT.

I don't even know what to write about after that. Looks like I had to get something off my chest. Yeah this blog post is complete. I hope you enjoyed it. I'll probably post again soon. If Bill or Sandy Loyd is reading this, way to take some fucking initiative. Until next time...

Associate Me with Palm Trees

Gooooooooooood afternoon ladies and gentlemen. I just had a delightful sandwich and now I'm sipping on a delightful cup of coffee. This will in fact be the second weekend in a row I go home. Which means that soon I will hit yet another party phase and go absolute nuts. Good for future me.

So surprisingly, last weeks post was in fact a record breaker. Weighing in at a total of over 1,500 words, it surpassed the previous record by a solid 150 words. Perhaps I am developing as a blogger. Perhaps...

I have some good topics lined up for this week of discussion, so I hope ALL of my readers enjoy, unfortunately I don't have very many readers. I just put on some confidence enhancing music (sexy and i know it), fuck yeah.

I wanna start by stating how much I look forward to posting in this blog. I mean it's all week I'm brainstorming ideas to talk about. This blog is my light at the end of the tunnel from a week long of work. My Friday routine hasn't changed much in the past couple months since it's conception. Class, workout, run around campus shirtless, blog. Done.

My nails are kinda long. I'm gonna trim them. Like right now.

Ok that's much better. So I just realized while clipping my nails, that this is the first time in my life which I spend more time with my girlfriend than my parents. I find that interesting. All the way up through your childhood, you are forced to spend more time with your parents than your bros or girlfriend. Now that's flipped on it's head. Now obviously I spend the most time with my bros right now, but the fact that I see my geef at least once a week, and my parents sometimes less than once a month. Shit, this kinda proves my childhood is over.

Speaking of my girlfriend, two weeks ago I blogged about having sex on a Friday at 7:30. Well last Friday I actually got to do it. If you read back two posts you will see my enthusiasm for a 1900 hookup. I was quite curious as to what would happen, cuz the 7:30 feeling is BTS, so if you have sex during it then what the fuck happens? Well I discovered the answer. NOTHING. NOTHING FUCKING HAPPENED. Which is bullshit! I was expecting to be enlightened to the point of self actualization, I was expecting to see God! Maybe a natural high that lasted the whole weekend? NOPE! In fact all that happened is I became tired as shit and exhausted and fell asleep at like 9:00pm.

Wait a second. I just solved the problem. Ok, so 7:30 on a Friday is between classes and parties. And it's BTS. So if you actually introduce sex into the equation, the units cancel! The universe will actually restrict you from partying after having sex at 7:30, I suspect this is usually in the form of exhaustion. BUT!!! If you do introduce sex into the equation, and the universe restricts you from a party, then the actual, BTS moment would be in between classes and sex wouldn't it? Hmmmm... food for thought. I will have to study and experiment with this over the next couple of weeks. What would happen if you had sex at 7:30 but then forced yourself to go to a party? Would there be a way to "trick" the universe? Yeah. Mind=FUCKED.

Brb I'm gonna call Karen. Ok I'm back. And that took twenty minutes. I counted. Now I gotta pee.

Now I wanna share something with you that Doug told me. Put on some fucking vacation playlist, and do enjoy this segment. This quote made me smile ear to ear. It can be traced back to the reason Doug and I are the best inseparable friends possible. I plan to frame the quote with a palm tree relaxing back ground. I will then hang it up in my bedroom. If I move, the quote will move with me. It will follow me all the way to retirement. Doug said...

"Dude. When we get super old let's retire and move to Florida together. Roommates in a nice house down the street from the beach. We can do just nothing but enjoy cigars, cold beers, and wearing nice clothes. You can just always drive your boat around while I do nothing but fish and listen to music."

I literally got goosebumps when I retyped that in. This quote completely defines who Doug and I are. Palm trees, success and the sky. And cold beer. To think that our lives will converge upon our 60th birthday, and we will spend the rest of our days together doing nothing but relaxing and enjoying what makes us calm and happy. It will be a vacation.

But we can't do that until we finish our lives. Doug is moving forward to be a very successful musician. I am moving forward to be a very successful aviator. We must finish what we started before we get to the endless vacation. Even though we will work our asses off to accomplish such a level of success, it will be the bulk of our lives, and we simply can't "cut to the chase". But when I turn 60, on April 9th, 2053, and I move into that nice house by the beach, I'm going to play "Island in the Sun" everyday until I die. Believe it.

Ok picture this. You're life changes and suddenly becomes several times cooler. Let's say you move to Miami. You go to a club to celebrate this with your bros. You walk onto the dance floor, look around to see strobe lights, fog machines and lasers, girls half naked dancing and you take a sip of you redbull and vodka. I call this a slow motion moment. It's when your'e life instantly becomes much much cooler, time warps and you actually put into slow motion for a couple seconds. I call it a slow motion moment.

I have one like once every couple of months, I mean they're pretty rare. The last time I got one is at the Luau party on the first day at UK. Being laid to dubstep music having water sprayed on me with Tom Rupp with strobes and shit, made me realize I was in college and my life was really fucking cool, when I realized it I found myself in a trance and everything goes slow motion for like 3 seconds. It's fucking cool as shit. Like I'm not making this up. It's like being in a movie.

Other times my life has gotten cooler and I've had slow motion moments include when I helped Dani throw a super successful party, when I got my pilot's license and flew over my high school during school hours, and when I told my girlfriend I loved her watching the sunrise at 4,000 feet. Yeah and then I kissed her in SLOW MOTION as I listed my left wing up creating plane-shaped shadow on the fog below us. Yeah beat that.

This is a really good thing actually. Let's look at two functions. f(x)=slow motion moments only happen when you're life becomes cooler. And g(x)=I have a slow motion moment every couple months. Now if you take f(g(x)) you will find that my life becomes cooler every couple months. If I put this on a graph it may make more sense.

You know what's bullshit? Chipotle. I was at the movies with Karen on Saturday night and there was a very touching advertisement. It showed a single farmer struggling to make profits with his traditional farming techniques. Put to the music of Coldplay (the scientist), he takes a lot of the organic crap out and puts his cattle and plants on steroids and commercializes it all and it ruins his pastures . So he's depressed that his land is destroyed and replants his crops the traditional way and his greenery is restored and he's happy again. The moral of the advertisement is clear. And I was like "wow that's a really touching advertisement". Then the screen panned to a sign that said "Cultivate a better world. Chipotle." And that shit pisses me off. Like shut the fuck up Chipotle you don't do shit for the environment and you know it. Fuck you. You know who does good for the environment Chipotle? Boeing and Ge. They make machines that are necessary to the worlds infrastructure while BARELY harming the environment. What the fuck do you do Chipotle? You make food that makes people poop. That's what you do. Cultivate my dick Chipotle. Don't even talk to me.

I'm sorry to have to end off on a negative note. I unfortunately couldn't blog about everything that's been on my mind this week. There was simply too much material to cover in one post. I covered just over half of it. This means I will have to make more than one post a week and I am FINE with that. Enjoy the rest of your weekend everybody. I'm signing off.

By the way. I have one last little request. I want everyone who reads this blog... Actually no fuck that. I want more. I want everyone who knows me to associate me with palm trees, beaches, etc. Like I want my presence to be supplemented by thoughts of vacation and relaxing. I wear sunglasses on my head like all the time now, like that's my shit. I wanna get to the point where I can have a conversation with someone on a nice day, and due to my nature and the way I carry myself, they enjoy the rest of they're nice day MORE. Like the conversation they had with me enlightened them to the point it made them further realize the beauty of everyday things such as nice weather. Ok maybe this is a pretty big request, but I don't think I'm very far from it. It's also kinda arrogant. But idgaf.

Ok now I'm done expressing myslef. Until next time... :)