What's up world? It's finally starting to get nice out again. Took you long enough Spring. This weekend is a good weekend to just sit back and chill. All homework and exams are out of the way for now; there's not much to really worry about.
I went for a motorcycle ride yesterday. It was definitely nice to be back on the track. I feel like I've gotten a lot better. Cornering for example is now a much smoother and faster process. I'm getting pretty adept at getting 100% out of that bike. Hopefully the weather stays nice so I can continue riding.
This blog post is probably gonna be short. Sorry. I don't really have much drive to post in times like this. Happy Easter everyone. Until next time.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Monday, March 25, 2013
We Love You
Good morning everybody. I'm writing you live from the Fine Arts Library. I wasn't expecting to be blogging this morning, and thus didn't bring my laptop. But then I took my Physics midterm and it wasn't as bad as I was expecting so now I'm in a nice mood to write. So enjoy.
I had DLX this weekend. That's the wasted weekend I have directly after Spring Break every year that makes my life hell for two days over in Fort Knox. I still had fun, saw some military comedians perform at the local nightclub. And by the way, for those wondering, after seeing nightclubs in Spain, Morocco, Miami, and Hollywood; The Landing Zone nightclub in Fort Knox really doesn't do much for me. It seems that I'm quite spoiled for my age.
It takes significantly more to impress me than it does many of my peers. Take Alex H. for example, he and I could go do something together (whether it be a nightclub, flight, something touristy, sporting event, whatever) it probably wouldn't take too much to enthuse him. It sounds really snobby, but getting me excited takes a lot more than Daytona, Club Forte, Brunette's, or bonfires.
I started realizing this early on after wondering the streets of alpine Germany alone at age 11, repeat visits to Los Angeles in High School, or getting my pilots license before my driver's license. As I've matured, it's always taken more and more to floor me. There was a time when Amelia Island, Florida had me thinking I was high brow and living life as good it gets. Fast forward less than four years, and now I'm thinking West LA and Beverly Hills is just another one of those "oh yeah I've been there before, it's nice I guess" places.
Abroad, my thesis holds true to an even greater extent. Along with my classy personality is an adventure-chasing individual who enjoys the danger and exotic qualities of the world. For example, as much as I wish to see all of the world, Europe really doesn't appeal to me anymore. The coolest things that happened in Spain and Portugal three months ago couldn't even touch my experiences in Honduras or Morocco. If someone offered me a cheap trip to France for a week, it would have to be pretty damn cheap. It just takes more and more to wow me.
What startles me about this fact, is that I'm only 20 years old! I've lived less than a quarter of my life, only been traveling for half of that, and still I only truly look forward to the biggest and craziest experiences. What's going to happen when I'm 45 years old and have seen every continent inside and out? Will I be done? Will I pack it up, buy a boat, and just chill for the next 30 years? Or will I find even better experiences to top my old memories? It's an interesting thought that I could be chasing the highs of the world my whole life, and despite spending the past 19 years doing things most of the world couldn't imagine, I could be spending the next 20 years pushing the limit further and further with how I spend my money and time. The unknown of what's to come in my life gives me goosebumps. I can't even fathom what awaits me in my life.
But without a doubt the best aspect of a fast paced and exciting life, that which I look forward to the most, is that even if I die tomorrow, I will die satisfied. And that although satisfaction is nearly impossible for me to attain, if I spend my whole life chasing it I'll eventually get there.
So I hope that gives you/me something to look forward to. Changing gears here, since I still have a little bit of time to blog, I've run across an interesting thought. I was watching the 2012 Ultra video, which just highlights the super huge house music party in Miami for two weeks every year, the one I'll eventually go to. Anyway during one of the performances by popular DJ and producer "Hardwell" (The guy that made the masterpiece "Spaceman", which is a song that for the past year has been blasted down Ocean Drive by every bar and club on the neon-lit strip) I saw a sign in the crowd that read, "MIAMI LOVES YOU." Which I believe to be a really interesting notion.
The man who created a song which nearly everyone on South Beach loves, is being told that the city of Miami loves him. I think that's pretty cool! You can love a city, a person, a team, etc. as much as you want. But if that city or person or whatever doesn't love you back, what's the point? In fact when you think about it it seems that those who love something but aren't loved back are the most annoying people we deal with.
Think about a pretty girl. There's plenty of guys that love her, but odds are she loves very few of them. If you imagine for a moment the stereotypical love-struck, socially awkward, desperate guy who 'loves' this girl to death and is very public about it, he's usually not very popular. In fact he's typically the person who, bless him, has no friends and in the minds of most is very replaceable.
Think again about the city of Las Vegas, or anywhere touristy and racy. Now imagine the thousands of tourists who flock to Las Vegas every year with their "I <3 LV" shirts tightly wrapped around their pot-belly. They don't spend money at the bar, they don't make Las Vegas better for anyone, they're just a waste of space in the bar at 11:00pm while the locals and partiers who belong on the strip are begging them to leave. Or those who push strollers down Panama City Beach in March. The equivalent would be for Tom and I to go to Disney World, get absolutely hammered, and trying to pick up 14 year old girls while families are just trying to have a good time.
You can love a city all you want; but if you aren't loved back, if you're not truly welcomed into the confines with any chance at belonging and fitting in, then you're nothing more than the obnoxious freshman desperately chasing after the cheerleader.
That's why I get so thrilled upon finally reaching a point in which I fit in while traveling. It's the point at which the you're under an oak tree outside the Medina of Rabat smiling with the locals as you hide from the rain. It's speaking Spanish and laughing with your waiter in Salamanca, and not feeling like you're only being allowed into the restaurant due to America's spending habits. If I love a city but the city doesn't love me back, I probably won't enjoy myself or return. Why is it I literally go to my Miami nightclubs than frat parties these days? It all continues to explain my seemingly excessive fascination with Miami and traveling the rest of the world.
But my blogging time for today is up. Before I go, I want to offer a disclaimer: if you're gonna be the annoyance in cities, but you stay on the double-decker tour bus, you're fine. Just don't go to places you fucking don't belong. Thank you.
Until next time...
I had DLX this weekend. That's the wasted weekend I have directly after Spring Break every year that makes my life hell for two days over in Fort Knox. I still had fun, saw some military comedians perform at the local nightclub. And by the way, for those wondering, after seeing nightclubs in Spain, Morocco, Miami, and Hollywood; The Landing Zone nightclub in Fort Knox really doesn't do much for me. It seems that I'm quite spoiled for my age.
It takes significantly more to impress me than it does many of my peers. Take Alex H. for example, he and I could go do something together (whether it be a nightclub, flight, something touristy, sporting event, whatever) it probably wouldn't take too much to enthuse him. It sounds really snobby, but getting me excited takes a lot more than Daytona, Club Forte, Brunette's, or bonfires.
I started realizing this early on after wondering the streets of alpine Germany alone at age 11, repeat visits to Los Angeles in High School, or getting my pilots license before my driver's license. As I've matured, it's always taken more and more to floor me. There was a time when Amelia Island, Florida had me thinking I was high brow and living life as good it gets. Fast forward less than four years, and now I'm thinking West LA and Beverly Hills is just another one of those "oh yeah I've been there before, it's nice I guess" places.
Abroad, my thesis holds true to an even greater extent. Along with my classy personality is an adventure-chasing individual who enjoys the danger and exotic qualities of the world. For example, as much as I wish to see all of the world, Europe really doesn't appeal to me anymore. The coolest things that happened in Spain and Portugal three months ago couldn't even touch my experiences in Honduras or Morocco. If someone offered me a cheap trip to France for a week, it would have to be pretty damn cheap. It just takes more and more to wow me.
What startles me about this fact, is that I'm only 20 years old! I've lived less than a quarter of my life, only been traveling for half of that, and still I only truly look forward to the biggest and craziest experiences. What's going to happen when I'm 45 years old and have seen every continent inside and out? Will I be done? Will I pack it up, buy a boat, and just chill for the next 30 years? Or will I find even better experiences to top my old memories? It's an interesting thought that I could be chasing the highs of the world my whole life, and despite spending the past 19 years doing things most of the world couldn't imagine, I could be spending the next 20 years pushing the limit further and further with how I spend my money and time. The unknown of what's to come in my life gives me goosebumps. I can't even fathom what awaits me in my life.
But without a doubt the best aspect of a fast paced and exciting life, that which I look forward to the most, is that even if I die tomorrow, I will die satisfied. And that although satisfaction is nearly impossible for me to attain, if I spend my whole life chasing it I'll eventually get there.
So I hope that gives you/me something to look forward to. Changing gears here, since I still have a little bit of time to blog, I've run across an interesting thought. I was watching the 2012 Ultra video, which just highlights the super huge house music party in Miami for two weeks every year, the one I'll eventually go to. Anyway during one of the performances by popular DJ and producer "Hardwell" (The guy that made the masterpiece "Spaceman", which is a song that for the past year has been blasted down Ocean Drive by every bar and club on the neon-lit strip) I saw a sign in the crowd that read, "MIAMI LOVES YOU." Which I believe to be a really interesting notion.
The man who created a song which nearly everyone on South Beach loves, is being told that the city of Miami loves him. I think that's pretty cool! You can love a city, a person, a team, etc. as much as you want. But if that city or person or whatever doesn't love you back, what's the point? In fact when you think about it it seems that those who love something but aren't loved back are the most annoying people we deal with.
Think about a pretty girl. There's plenty of guys that love her, but odds are she loves very few of them. If you imagine for a moment the stereotypical love-struck, socially awkward, desperate guy who 'loves' this girl to death and is very public about it, he's usually not very popular. In fact he's typically the person who, bless him, has no friends and in the minds of most is very replaceable.
Think again about the city of Las Vegas, or anywhere touristy and racy. Now imagine the thousands of tourists who flock to Las Vegas every year with their "I <3 LV" shirts tightly wrapped around their pot-belly. They don't spend money at the bar, they don't make Las Vegas better for anyone, they're just a waste of space in the bar at 11:00pm while the locals and partiers who belong on the strip are begging them to leave. Or those who push strollers down Panama City Beach in March. The equivalent would be for Tom and I to go to Disney World, get absolutely hammered, and trying to pick up 14 year old girls while families are just trying to have a good time.
You can love a city all you want; but if you aren't loved back, if you're not truly welcomed into the confines with any chance at belonging and fitting in, then you're nothing more than the obnoxious freshman desperately chasing after the cheerleader.
That's why I get so thrilled upon finally reaching a point in which I fit in while traveling. It's the point at which the you're under an oak tree outside the Medina of Rabat smiling with the locals as you hide from the rain. It's speaking Spanish and laughing with your waiter in Salamanca, and not feeling like you're only being allowed into the restaurant due to America's spending habits. If I love a city but the city doesn't love me back, I probably won't enjoy myself or return. Why is it I literally go to my Miami nightclubs than frat parties these days? It all continues to explain my seemingly excessive fascination with Miami and traveling the rest of the world.
But my blogging time for today is up. Before I go, I want to offer a disclaimer: if you're gonna be the annoyance in cities, but you stay on the double-decker tour bus, you're fine. Just don't go to places you fucking don't belong. Thank you.
Until next time...
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Miami part 2 (or 3. I guess it's part 3)
What's up all? I'm ready for part two (or three depending on how you look at it) of my Miami series. I have an Air Force meeting in 45 minutes so this can't take long, but I'll continue on with the tale for now. So... where were we? Ahh yes...
Once a venue has been selected, the party begins. In a never-ending game of see and be seen, it's clear why the restaurants on Ocean Drive have seating right out on the side walk. Everyone has to know that you're in THAT restaurant. Everyone has to know that you're rocking some aviator sunglasses and that you're dining with a hot young girl. How else would people know all that if you were hidden in some gated rooftop restaurant?
The Ferrari's line up at the valet; someone famous steps out into the bar, getting pictures with fans as his posse sits down at a table a few over. Karen and I notice him. We don't have the slightest clue who the hell he is but whoever he is, this bar's good enough for him. So we just clink our (VIRGIN) mojito glasses together and continue on enjoying the music and ambiance. Once we were worn out with one restaurant or bar, we'd just click our heels together and be on our way over to the next one. More often then not, we wouldn't head back to the hotel until 2:00 or 3:00am.
Every night could be summed up like that. It took a little while, but eventually the thought sank in of Miami loving our presence and inviting us back for more every night when the sun went down. The whole experience I'd been waiting for since high school became a reality very early for me. Living the Miami Dream has been high up on my bucketlist; above the Prado, Atlas Mountains, or the Santa Monica Pier.
The way everyone talks about Miami as this place for only the top caliber people made Miami seem like pulling off Spring Break there would be pretty difficult. The way I've read about the club lines, exclusive promoters, and essentially having to be someone awesome just to have a decent time at night. It almost discouraged me. I've read blogs and articles that specifically say Miami is not a feasible Spring Break destination just because you have to have be a certain type of person to fit in. Long story short: Miami doesn't want you, go away.
But we went anyway! And instead of being turned away at the door like I was half expecting, we were invited to clubs on their busiest nights by promoters! We ended up becoming the classy young and beautiful people who complain about the trashy tourists who don't belong. As a result, Miami is still my favorite place on Earth. In fact, I like it more now that I know what it's capable of.
So Karen and I are counting our pennies and finding out the next soonest date we can return. It's looking like this Summer. I WILL BE BACK.
Until next time...
Once a venue has been selected, the party begins. In a never-ending game of see and be seen, it's clear why the restaurants on Ocean Drive have seating right out on the side walk. Everyone has to know that you're in THAT restaurant. Everyone has to know that you're rocking some aviator sunglasses and that you're dining with a hot young girl. How else would people know all that if you were hidden in some gated rooftop restaurant?
The Ferrari's line up at the valet; someone famous steps out into the bar, getting pictures with fans as his posse sits down at a table a few over. Karen and I notice him. We don't have the slightest clue who the hell he is but whoever he is, this bar's good enough for him. So we just clink our (VIRGIN) mojito glasses together and continue on enjoying the music and ambiance. Once we were worn out with one restaurant or bar, we'd just click our heels together and be on our way over to the next one. More often then not, we wouldn't head back to the hotel until 2:00 or 3:00am.
Every night could be summed up like that. It took a little while, but eventually the thought sank in of Miami loving our presence and inviting us back for more every night when the sun went down. The whole experience I'd been waiting for since high school became a reality very early for me. Living the Miami Dream has been high up on my bucketlist; above the Prado, Atlas Mountains, or the Santa Monica Pier.
The way everyone talks about Miami as this place for only the top caliber people made Miami seem like pulling off Spring Break there would be pretty difficult. The way I've read about the club lines, exclusive promoters, and essentially having to be someone awesome just to have a decent time at night. It almost discouraged me. I've read blogs and articles that specifically say Miami is not a feasible Spring Break destination just because you have to have be a certain type of person to fit in. Long story short: Miami doesn't want you, go away.
But we went anyway! And instead of being turned away at the door like I was half expecting, we were invited to clubs on their busiest nights by promoters! We ended up becoming the classy young and beautiful people who complain about the trashy tourists who don't belong. As a result, Miami is still my favorite place on Earth. In fact, I like it more now that I know what it's capable of.
So Karen and I are counting our pennies and finding out the next soonest date we can return. It's looking like this Summer. I WILL BE BACK.
Until next time...
Monday, March 18, 2013
Classy, Young, and Beautiful
What's up world. I feel like blogging.
Today was not a fantastic day. I always get shitty depressed whenever I have to return to daily life after living like a king for a week or two. I wish I would've done more live-action blog posts in Miami. Now I feel like I've missed my opportunity. I still wrote on that first night, which was good.
Miami is interesting. For about the past five years I've had some strange obsession with the city of Miami. The Travel Channel and CSI: Miami did a great day of glamorizing the city to an almost excessive point. All through my high school years I dreamt of blowing fat stacks on South Beach with a beautiful girl on my arm and partying like the classy mother fucker I am. In high school, the whole obsession with Miami was being there with the classy young and beautiful people, and sharing their playground with them. Even though I didn't do anything but share a glass of wine with my mom in the hotel room or chill on the beach watching planes with my dad; even though I was in by 9pm at the latest; I was in Miami bitch!: The land of the classy, young, and beautiful.
From then on the lure of Miami kind of faded since I've already been there and seen it all, but I was still not quite ready to join in on the culture. I knew my place, and I was far from ready for Miami Beach nightclubs. When Karen and I booked a Spring Break trip to Miami, we weren't expecting to really be a part of the action. We were planning on a low-key, relaxing get-away where we could avoid the trashy crowds of Panama but still enjoy the beach among the beauty of Miami.
Then we showed up, waited until 10pm or so, dressed up to kill in our finest and most expensive clothes, threw a cigar lighter in my pocket, and left for the neon lights of Ocean Drive. Upon rounding the corner past 15th street, making our entrance onto the most expensive street in the world, it quickly became clear that we weren't going to be spending our Spring Break watching the young and beautiful; we were the young and beautiful.
I've always said that Ocean Drive, Miami Beach is my favorite single location on Earth. In fact I said that like two years ago on this blog. Well, I was right! Every night as the sun set over the Miami skyline, Karen and I would be walking arm-in-arm down the board walk ready for a night of being the clutchest couple in the league. Then on that iconic turn towards the rows of palm trees, and house music being blasted from every bar and club down the street; I couldn't help but smile and put my shades down.
The routine became something I looked forward to every night. Ferrari after Lamborghini after Maserati would drive by as all the people who knew they belonged on South Beach would try not to look; reacting the same as when a thin young blonde would strut by in her tight skirt and high heels. Finding a place to eat and drink is half the fun of going out on South Beach. It's a combination of seeing who's playing the best music (house of course, this is Miami), waiting for a sexy young latina to convince us her bar is worthy of us, and being in the know enough to remember which places are way overpriced or not cool enough.
Once a venue has been selected, the party begins. In a never-ending game of see and be seen, it's clear why the restaurants on Ocean Drive have seating right out on the side walk.
But I will continue this later. Karen's here, see ya.
Today was not a fantastic day. I always get shitty depressed whenever I have to return to daily life after living like a king for a week or two. I wish I would've done more live-action blog posts in Miami. Now I feel like I've missed my opportunity. I still wrote on that first night, which was good.
Miami is interesting. For about the past five years I've had some strange obsession with the city of Miami. The Travel Channel and CSI: Miami did a great day of glamorizing the city to an almost excessive point. All through my high school years I dreamt of blowing fat stacks on South Beach with a beautiful girl on my arm and partying like the classy mother fucker I am. In high school, the whole obsession with Miami was being there with the classy young and beautiful people, and sharing their playground with them. Even though I didn't do anything but share a glass of wine with my mom in the hotel room or chill on the beach watching planes with my dad; even though I was in by 9pm at the latest; I was in Miami bitch!: The land of the classy, young, and beautiful.
From then on the lure of Miami kind of faded since I've already been there and seen it all, but I was still not quite ready to join in on the culture. I knew my place, and I was far from ready for Miami Beach nightclubs. When Karen and I booked a Spring Break trip to Miami, we weren't expecting to really be a part of the action. We were planning on a low-key, relaxing get-away where we could avoid the trashy crowds of Panama but still enjoy the beach among the beauty of Miami.
 |
| For those curious, right at the moment this picture was being taken, I was getting stung by a bee. |
I've always said that Ocean Drive, Miami Beach is my favorite single location on Earth. In fact I said that like two years ago on this blog. Well, I was right! Every night as the sun set over the Miami skyline, Karen and I would be walking arm-in-arm down the board walk ready for a night of being the clutchest couple in the league. Then on that iconic turn towards the rows of palm trees, and house music being blasted from every bar and club down the street; I couldn't help but smile and put my shades down.
The routine became something I looked forward to every night. Ferrari after Lamborghini after Maserati would drive by as all the people who knew they belonged on South Beach would try not to look; reacting the same as when a thin young blonde would strut by in her tight skirt and high heels. Finding a place to eat and drink is half the fun of going out on South Beach. It's a combination of seeing who's playing the best music (house of course, this is Miami), waiting for a sexy young latina to convince us her bar is worthy of us, and being in the know enough to remember which places are way overpriced or not cool enough.
Once a venue has been selected, the party begins. In a never-ending game of see and be seen, it's clear why the restaurants on Ocean Drive have seating right out on the side walk.
But I will continue this later. Karen's here, see ya.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
I'M IN MIAMI BITCH!
Good evening everyone! Happy Spring Break! I'm blogging from South Beach right now; I'm taking a break from the excitement and relaxing to some tea, music, and Cleveland Show.
I've said it before but I'll say it again, South Beach is my favorite single location on Earth. I am so glad Spring Break this year revolved around classy lounges on Ocean Drive instead of blackout-style binge drinking at La Vela all week on Panama City Beach. I've also said prior that I love being in the group of people who simply belong. Acting like you've been there before, holding your liquor, dressing well, and holding yourself to a higher standard is all part of belonging on South Beach.
We had a club promoter come up to us on the beach with passes to get in one of those ridiculous NFA nightclubs Miami Beach is known for. If that doesn't mean my ass belongs on South Beach I don't know what else could possibly be an indication. Then walking down Ocean Drive through the restaurants that extend out to the curb, we get the 22 year old hottie from Brazil trying to shove their drink menu down our throats.
It's all very nice. I absolutely love it. Miami is certainly my Kokomo. Karen asked me on the flight (one of my favorite routes by the way, ATL-MIA) if I think South Beach will always be my favorite. I think at least since I spent so much of my youth adoring this place, I'll always have a personal spot in my heart reserved for it.
Karen and I are taking a walk in a bit. We're taking a stroll through the boardwalk down to South Pointe Park. It should be nice. We're really having a good time, and we're doing in the classy way. I've always liked being mature and high brow. I'm delighted that even after a two hour flight of overt illicit day drinking, the 62 year old man with a Ph.D was still telling us how we're such a huge notch above most our age by the end of the flight.
Even in on vacation in Miami, I'm still piecing together fun little experiences and lessons in life; all of which make me a more interesting individual. Along with the excitement, I guess that's why I didn't hesitate blowing a cool thousand bucks of hard earned cash to come down to South Beach.
Well Family Guy is on, and I'm just chillaxin. Maybe I'll post later this week while still in Miami. Considering my fondness for travel blogs, I likely will more than once. Until next time.
B T FREAKING DUBS: I'M IN MIAMI BITCH!!!!!
I've said it before but I'll say it again, South Beach is my favorite single location on Earth. I am so glad Spring Break this year revolved around classy lounges on Ocean Drive instead of blackout-style binge drinking at La Vela all week on Panama City Beach. I've also said prior that I love being in the group of people who simply belong. Acting like you've been there before, holding your liquor, dressing well, and holding yourself to a higher standard is all part of belonging on South Beach.
We had a club promoter come up to us on the beach with passes to get in one of those ridiculous NFA nightclubs Miami Beach is known for. If that doesn't mean my ass belongs on South Beach I don't know what else could possibly be an indication. Then walking down Ocean Drive through the restaurants that extend out to the curb, we get the 22 year old hottie from Brazil trying to shove their drink menu down our throats.
 |
| Beach bum, call me Ocean Drive slim. Drop the top, look up and make the sky grin. |
It's all very nice. I absolutely love it. Miami is certainly my Kokomo. Karen asked me on the flight (one of my favorite routes by the way, ATL-MIA) if I think South Beach will always be my favorite. I think at least since I spent so much of my youth adoring this place, I'll always have a personal spot in my heart reserved for it.
Karen and I are taking a walk in a bit. We're taking a stroll through the boardwalk down to South Pointe Park. It should be nice. We're really having a good time, and we're doing in the classy way. I've always liked being mature and high brow. I'm delighted that even after a two hour flight of overt illicit day drinking, the 62 year old man with a Ph.D was still telling us how we're such a huge notch above most our age by the end of the flight.
Even in on vacation in Miami, I'm still piecing together fun little experiences and lessons in life; all of which make me a more interesting individual. Along with the excitement, I guess that's why I didn't hesitate blowing a cool thousand bucks of hard earned cash to come down to South Beach.
Well Family Guy is on, and I'm just chillaxin. Maybe I'll post later this week while still in Miami. Considering my fondness for travel blogs, I likely will more than once. Until next time.
B T FREAKING DUBS: I'M IN MIAMI BITCH!!!!!
Friday, March 8, 2013
Down to Kokomo
One exam, one lab, and two flights are all that's left before I'm in Miami! Yeah! It's pretty much Spring Break! My favorite single week of the year that I've been waiting for for 51 weeks since the moment I got back from Daytona!
Spring Break is like a team effort in college. The professors (except for the bitchy ones) all know it's in their best interest to plan fun and easy lectures the Friday before Spring Break. The students who don't skip class bring their best attitude and smile to accompany their vacation music and cup of coffee.
With the exception of my bitch Calculus professor, who schedules a fucking exam on the Friday before the big S.B, I don't have much to crush my excellent mood. I've been looking forward to tweeting through my physics lecture, blogging through my break, killing this exam like Dahmer, getting in a good work out, then having the best Circuits Friday EVER.
You remember Circuits Friday right? Well Circuits Friday today will be exceptionally fun. In fact I'm renaming it. Today is Circuits Friday Before Spring Break. Happy CFBSB. Today Mr. Samsung has us building some Op Amps! Yeah! And it's gonna take two hours! Don't know what the hell an Op Amp is? Well neither do I and I'm an Electrical Engineer who's been studying Op Amp's for two weeks now. Anyway, the last two hours before Spring Break for me will be spent building this super tiny integrated circuit that somehow is supposed to match voltages without matching current? Or vice versa? I should probably figure that out. Anyway I'm gonna be sipping my tea, listening to some Spring Break music, playing with some $600 circuit board, zapping shit for two hours. Sound like a party? It does to me.
All day I'll be tweeting Kokomo lyrics. That's what kind of day it is today. I was just now listening to Kokomo on my way over to the POT lounge, the lyrics are actually fairly deep. I've always considered the song to be the anthem of Spring Break. Back in High School, they'd play it over the P.A. system instead of the usual bell tone to announce that school has let out for Spring Break. So for seven and a half hours we'd be rotting and dying in class, anticipating the big SB. Then the last period would roll along and the true anxiety would set in and it was awful. But after you've served your full day of school, at 2:20 on the dot, instead of the usually bell tone, you'd hear "Aruba, Jamaica, ooh I wanna take ya..."
After four years of that, it turned the song into a signal that Spring Break is near. Plus the song is pretty much all about Spring Break Caribbean getaways. But the song goes even further than that in my opinion. The whole song describes a perfect vacation, in the middle of some seaside paradise where the drinks come in abundance and the worries are nonexistent. The stresses of normal life are drowned out by the noise of the waves crashing against the shore. The entire song creates this extreme desire to book a plane ticket and fly on the next flight out to a nonexistent metaphorical island.
But that's the catch. The Kokomo they sing about doesn't actually exist. There's a Kokomo in Hawaii, Mississippi, Indiana, and a place in Jamaica that's nicknamed Kokomo; but no actual Kokomo. Which makes it kind of depressing. This perfect, beautiful utopian island where time doesn't move is just a legend. Like Bigfoot and Atlantis, they're just imagination; you can never actually truly experience Kokomo.
Then, the penultimate line in the song changes everything. "Everybody knows a little place like Kokomo." Meaning Kokomo is in the eye of the beholder. Kokomo can be anywhere. It's not necessarily one island, city, resort, etc. Kokomo is the one place in the world that you love so much, time stops and stresses fade like the horizon over the deep blue sea. Everyone has they're favorite island in the Caribbean, vacation party city, unique country side, national park, or resort. Some people love the Don Cesar in Tampa. Some love the freshness of the wilderness of Yellowstone. Some love the hustle and bustle of New York City. And some enjoy the status and sexy Latin beauty of Miami.
And the final phrase in the song makes it the Anthem of Spring Break for me. "Now if you wanna go and get away from it all, go down to Kokomo." It's Friday, everything is packed, assignments are turned in, and boarding passes are printed. It's time to stop daydreaming, and actually fly down to Kokomo. The stress, anticipation, anxiety, bore of day to day life is in conclusion. Now go enjoy yourself.
I had my pizza party last night. It was pretty fucking stupid. I think like 8 people showed up. I had ordered four 20" pizzas. 20 inches is huge by the way. If you do the math, that means each slice was 10" long, and the crust was over 6" in width. But we still demolished the pizza and had nice idle chit-chat about Spring Break.
I'm excited to fly through Atlanta. Atlanta to Miami is one of my favorite flights, both on the sim and in real life. It's certainly a treat to get to partake in the action. Karen and I will be clinking our spiked plastic cups together and dancing to the house music on our iPods for the exciting two hour flight along the intracoastal waterway.
During the flight, I'm pulling some classic Decker shit. Let me explain before I go take this calculus exam. It will be cold in Louisville for our departure. So I'll be wearing the typical Decker winter gear, jacket and jeans. Then on the flight to Atlanta, a layer will come off and be stored in the carry-on. That way for Atlanta I'll be looking ready for Spring, but not quite there yet: jeans, Sperries, and a tropical T-shirt. Then halfway through the flight I'll shed another layer, completing my transformation. I'll go from topsiders to beer-flops, t-shirt to Miami v-neck, and jeans to shorts. Sunglasses will probably be worn inside. By the time the 752 makes it's landing on one of the 6 gorgeous runways at MIA, I will look like I'm ready for Spring Break on South Beach.
And I will be. Happy Spring Break everyone. Enjoy your week and act like you've been there before. Until next time everyone.
Spring Break is like a team effort in college. The professors (except for the bitchy ones) all know it's in their best interest to plan fun and easy lectures the Friday before Spring Break. The students who don't skip class bring their best attitude and smile to accompany their vacation music and cup of coffee.
With the exception of my bitch Calculus professor, who schedules a fucking exam on the Friday before the big S.B, I don't have much to crush my excellent mood. I've been looking forward to tweeting through my physics lecture, blogging through my break, killing this exam like Dahmer, getting in a good work out, then having the best Circuits Friday EVER.
You remember Circuits Friday right? Well Circuits Friday today will be exceptionally fun. In fact I'm renaming it. Today is Circuits Friday Before Spring Break. Happy CFBSB. Today Mr. Samsung has us building some Op Amps! Yeah! And it's gonna take two hours! Don't know what the hell an Op Amp is? Well neither do I and I'm an Electrical Engineer who's been studying Op Amp's for two weeks now. Anyway, the last two hours before Spring Break for me will be spent building this super tiny integrated circuit that somehow is supposed to match voltages without matching current? Or vice versa? I should probably figure that out. Anyway I'm gonna be sipping my tea, listening to some Spring Break music, playing with some $600 circuit board, zapping shit for two hours. Sound like a party? It does to me.
All day I'll be tweeting Kokomo lyrics. That's what kind of day it is today. I was just now listening to Kokomo on my way over to the POT lounge, the lyrics are actually fairly deep. I've always considered the song to be the anthem of Spring Break. Back in High School, they'd play it over the P.A. system instead of the usual bell tone to announce that school has let out for Spring Break. So for seven and a half hours we'd be rotting and dying in class, anticipating the big SB. Then the last period would roll along and the true anxiety would set in and it was awful. But after you've served your full day of school, at 2:20 on the dot, instead of the usually bell tone, you'd hear "Aruba, Jamaica, ooh I wanna take ya..."
After four years of that, it turned the song into a signal that Spring Break is near. Plus the song is pretty much all about Spring Break Caribbean getaways. But the song goes even further than that in my opinion. The whole song describes a perfect vacation, in the middle of some seaside paradise where the drinks come in abundance and the worries are nonexistent. The stresses of normal life are drowned out by the noise of the waves crashing against the shore. The entire song creates this extreme desire to book a plane ticket and fly on the next flight out to a nonexistent metaphorical island.
But that's the catch. The Kokomo they sing about doesn't actually exist. There's a Kokomo in Hawaii, Mississippi, Indiana, and a place in Jamaica that's nicknamed Kokomo; but no actual Kokomo. Which makes it kind of depressing. This perfect, beautiful utopian island where time doesn't move is just a legend. Like Bigfoot and Atlantis, they're just imagination; you can never actually truly experience Kokomo.
Then, the penultimate line in the song changes everything. "Everybody knows a little place like Kokomo." Meaning Kokomo is in the eye of the beholder. Kokomo can be anywhere. It's not necessarily one island, city, resort, etc. Kokomo is the one place in the world that you love so much, time stops and stresses fade like the horizon over the deep blue sea. Everyone has they're favorite island in the Caribbean, vacation party city, unique country side, national park, or resort. Some people love the Don Cesar in Tampa. Some love the freshness of the wilderness of Yellowstone. Some love the hustle and bustle of New York City. And some enjoy the status and sexy Latin beauty of Miami.
And the final phrase in the song makes it the Anthem of Spring Break for me. "Now if you wanna go and get away from it all, go down to Kokomo." It's Friday, everything is packed, assignments are turned in, and boarding passes are printed. It's time to stop daydreaming, and actually fly down to Kokomo. The stress, anticipation, anxiety, bore of day to day life is in conclusion. Now go enjoy yourself.
I had my pizza party last night. It was pretty fucking stupid. I think like 8 people showed up. I had ordered four 20" pizzas. 20 inches is huge by the way. If you do the math, that means each slice was 10" long, and the crust was over 6" in width. But we still demolished the pizza and had nice idle chit-chat about Spring Break.
I'm excited to fly through Atlanta. Atlanta to Miami is one of my favorite flights, both on the sim and in real life. It's certainly a treat to get to partake in the action. Karen and I will be clinking our spiked plastic cups together and dancing to the house music on our iPods for the exciting two hour flight along the intracoastal waterway.
During the flight, I'm pulling some classic Decker shit. Let me explain before I go take this calculus exam. It will be cold in Louisville for our departure. So I'll be wearing the typical Decker winter gear, jacket and jeans. Then on the flight to Atlanta, a layer will come off and be stored in the carry-on. That way for Atlanta I'll be looking ready for Spring, but not quite there yet: jeans, Sperries, and a tropical T-shirt. Then halfway through the flight I'll shed another layer, completing my transformation. I'll go from topsiders to beer-flops, t-shirt to Miami v-neck, and jeans to shorts. Sunglasses will probably be worn inside. By the time the 752 makes it's landing on one of the 6 gorgeous runways at MIA, I will look like I'm ready for Spring Break on South Beach.
And I will be. Happy Spring Break everyone. Enjoy your week and act like you've been there before. Until next time everyone.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)