The Roof of Blanding Tower

What's up everybody? Happy Thursdays. I actually hate Thursdays, this one included. It's just not typically a good time to be had. I'm always running between classes and dressed up in my uncomfortable Air Force uniform and it's all work, no play all day. Then right after class is Air Force Lab and that's not always fun, then after a full 9 hours of work I get back to my dorm, shower, and do homework until bed time. Like I said it's just not a good time.

But then, when all the homework and duties are finished. And at like 11:00 or midnight when I lay in bed and relax, it hits me that my week is complete. Still, until then it kind of sucks.

I had a class canceled today, circuits. So that left me with two and half hours of free time between 1:20 and 3:50. That's actually the reason I'm in my room blogging right now, but before I got the idea to blog during this down time I was just planning on eating lunch slowly and walking around the student center twiddling my thumbs for two hours. It would be like a two and half hour layover in a really boring airport. That's when my imagination took over and I reminisced in how much I love layovers.

Honestly when I book plane tickets, I typically go for the longest layover possible. I'm completely weird in that aspect. Two hours of layover time is good, but more is always welcomed. Spending hours walking around an airport with nothing to do is a vacation in itself for me.

One of my favorite memories of Miami was being stuck in the airport for 9 hours after Spring Break 2010. Spring Break 2010 was a huge success. It was a cruise on the Carnival Glory with Alex Shacklette. All the pieces were there for a fantastic high school Spring Break; the girls to chase, the lax Caribbean drinking laws to play around with, and a bro to share the memories with. The cruise was out of the Port of Miami, and it was in fact my first post-childhood visit to my new favorite city.

The Spring Break trip was great, like I said. Being a solid 17 years old, my fellow partiers and I took over the "under 18 club" due to our age and advantage. Every day was spent in a different Caribbean paradise town, indulging in the cheap and accessible alcohol to a teenager (and fearing dad would see me drinking a sample shot of Kahlua). Every night was spent sobering up at 9:00pm in the teen club. We had our section waiting for us every night, we had our free virgin daiquiris, we had our censored hip hop music, and we had girls to look popular with us.

Cruises really are the highest authority of vacations for high schoolers. The parent's noose loosens up a little bit (it's not like you can get lost on a boat), the experimental drinking comes with a less consequences, and boys and girls are dying to ask each other to chill at the teen club each night. When there's 4,500 people on the ship; 3,000 non-staff; 1,200 below age 18; 450 between ages 15 and 17; and 300 of them are girls; it really doesn't get much better for a 17 year old guy.

But enough about the cruise. It was fun yadda yadda but then on Saturday at like 6:00 in the morning it pulled back into the slip on Dodge Island and the cruise was over. However the real vacation had just begun! My parents scurried off the ship at 7:00am, the minute the doors opened. I don't know why we did this because we had a 5:00pm flight, and I guess I was the only one thinking 10 hours may have been a bit too much of a cushion from cruise disembarkation to plane boarding. But that meant that we got to spend a long as time in the Miami airport! I was more than ready for that!

As expected, it was a breeze getting of the boat and there was little to no traffic getting to the airport. There was no check-in or security line once at the airport, and we were sitting at our gate of H-10 by 8:00am. Let me reiterate, our flight boards at 5:00pm. We had nine hours. That same 757 would go between Miami and Atlanta three times before it picked us up. A Lufthansa 747 took off from Frankfurt, Germany right at about the time we got to the airport, it landed in Miami before we left. We were going to be in that terminal for a long ass time.

And it was a blast! I just listened to my music, walked all over terminals H and J, texted the friends I met on the cruise, texted all my bros back at home, watched some planes take off and land, enjoyed some Cinnabon; there wasn't much I didn't have time to do. The Miami airport has a very Floridian decor. In the flooring tiles are seashells, palm trees, marlins, and nice beachy quotes (Jimmy Buffet, Hemmingway, etc). I read every single quote in the south side of the airport. There was a big thunderstorm that closed the airport for a while, I was listening to LiveATC seeing how they handled it. I was able to fit in a three hour nap somewhere in there. Man, it was bliss!

Sooner or later our 757 came back to gate H-10 for the 3rd time that day, ready to pick us up. And after 9 thrilling hours, we were off to Atlanta, and eventually back home. And now I love the Miami airport. It's like I have Stockholm Syndrome. (AND I GET TO GO BACK TO THAT BLESSED LOCATION IN 8 DAYS). That summer, I did something ridiculous like 100 or so flights in and out of MIA. A year later, I sacrificed 3 days at Naples Florida so I could fly through MIA. A year after that, Travel Channel makes a T.V. show about the MIA, except I don't watch it because it's not very good. Then, two months ago I get lucky enough to fly through KMIA with my girlfriend enroute to Madrid! I can't help but make a Spring Break trip to Miami; I love that place too damn much.

But enough about Miami.

I was reading this blog back two years ago. On March 10th I blogged about a substitute teacher wanting to throw a party for our class.

"Ok so a bit of background before I dive into this. So the AP music teacher, Mrs. Knapke, is off doing some important music theory shit (oxymoron!) and isn't in school this week. We have some 70-something-year-old substitute who's putting on the video and watching us this week. He's quite the chatty gentleman. Upon the first day he asked if I were on the basketball team, to his disappointment I'm not, but I chatted about my swimming. He walked away just as Amanda reminded me it'd be amusing to see his reaction to my pilot's license. So he's been chatting me and Amanda up on and off everyday and yesterday he hit upon a humorous concept.

He told me "I'm thinking of throwing a party in this class on Friday, would that be ok with you?". I was like "Sir, you are talking to certainly the most party-friendly person in this class. That idea is not only ok with me, but it is highly encouraged." And he promptly replied with a smile "Well then that's what I'll do." Now I, even to this moment, lack the slightest clue as to why this man wants to throw a party for the class he's subbing. But he wants to, and I'm supporting him. A lot. If an old man feels like throwing a party, that's his prerogative and my privelidge. Advantage will be taken accordingly."

It obviously wasn't the typical alcohol-infused party with girls and music and all that like my high school senior personality was so into, but it was such a treat. That Friday, only a week or two before Spring Break that year, instead of doing work or reviewing or God-forbid a quiz; we were eating chips and queso, sipping Big Red, and happily conversing with each other. 

That little incident had an impact on me. Of course I completely forgot about it until I read about it in my own blog, which is why I'm so grateful I wrote it down. The thought of a humble old man (working part time as a substitute music teacher) wanting to spend his own money so that his temporary students could relax on a Friday before Spring Break, after being so busy and working so hard for months, is quite touching. I was so appreciative of him thinking about us, "I bet they could use a party. I'll throw them one."

So I decided I'm using my RA superpowers to pass the favor down. I asked my residents last meeting if they would like a pizza party before Spring Break, and they of course responded positively. So I planned it out, sent in the paperwork, and am spending $50 from the department to throw a pizza party for my residents the Thursday night before Spring Break. My thinking is that at least one person who attends will appreciate it in the way I appreciated it almost two years ago. Perhaps that one person will remember it later on in his life, even if it's when he's 70 years old, and he'll decide to throw a party for someone before Spring Break. 

It will cause a never ending chain of pizza parties being thrown before Spring Break. I can sleep soundly every March for the rest of my life knowing that from generation to generation, someone in the country is graced with a pizza party right before Spring Break. Hopefully they appreciate it as much as I did. Hopefully over the years it will put a smile on thousands of young faces as they grind out the rest of their work before Spring Break--the best week in the Universe. Hopefully my pizza party will make the world a brighter place. Hopefully that substitute music teacher knows he had such a positive impact on some of his students. 

Anyway, it's February 28th which means the dead months are over and Spring is about to begin! This is always a happy time of the year for me, but I have to get through three more hours of ROTC, and three more hours of homework before I can enjoy it. Then, I can enjoy my circuits Friday, get some money with my power weekend this weekend, crank out my last few exams and assignments, hit up one last shitty Thursday, have my pizza party, and call it a wrap before heading to my favorite place on Earth. 

I have a lot to look forward to. It's rare I notice that until I write it down in this blog. College really is a roller coaster between insane fun and insane stress. Writing it down makes it seem like it all evens out positively. But anyway, have a good day, week, weekend, Spring Break, whatever. Until next time...

Oh and you've probably realized this by now, but the title of this post doesn't have shit to do with the content. I've been wanting to do that for a while haha. See ya.