First/Worst

I guess you could say I've just had my curricular rite of passage, My first ever spring break. I didn't really have big plans for this spring break, I was going to spend a week on the road in California with a couple of roommates and a friend or two. But when it came down to it, I decided that I was not keenly interested in spending a lot of time in a cramped vehicle driving through Nevada, and up and down the 101. It wasn't that I wouldn't enjoy the company, or rehashing the arguments that go hand in hand with road trips (who drives, where/when we stop, radio stations, speed limits, elbow room, "that's my pillow", "I hate [genre] music" tangents, Moral Philosophical Debate: Copilot privileges and responsibilities, and who could forget the "Are-we-there-yet" jokes.... Not that I wasn't rife with ticklish anticipation of these things, I guess I just didn't trust in my mental capacity to handle all of those elements immediately after working 52 hours out of the 86 that made up my Friday through Monday, and my subsequent Allnighter that got the best of me around 6 AM on Tuesday, the scheduled Time of Departure for the road trip.

I had to weigh the value of sleep against the thrills of the road and opted for the former. Besides, I had also made it apparent to a friend from work that I would really like to tag along with her to Vegas if she had an open seat. I had really been feeling more like a Vegas spring break ever since the first planning of spring break, and the prospect of going to Vegas for a few days outweighed my expectations of a week in California. My roommates continued on to California as planned, and I slept in my bed. I forced myself into consciousness at about 9:30 on Tuesday. I had a project due at 12:40, so I missed class to finish the damned packet in time. (UVSC didn't start spring break until Wednesday). I gave up one of my days of spring break by not leaving town. Something in me is obligated to do what I am able despite my previous decision to skip classes to get a head start toward California. After dropping off my homework (and getting a good rebuking from my history prof. ) I decided 'what the hell' and went to my English class as well, even though I had told him I would not be there.

Things improved when a couple of friends dropped by to visit, one of them being a buddy from Memphis who I hadn't seen in over 2 years, the other my old roommate (also from Memphis) who got married a couple months ago, I had seen very little of him since. When they dropped by, I was trying to revisit the days that I cooked for myself, I had a few pots and pans doing simmering-type things on the stove and a spatula and dinner fork. It was more like a fire prevention refresher course.. although some stir-fry came of it eventually. I went over and played some Nertz! with my estranged friends and then returned home for some shuteye around 1:30AM, hoping to hear from my friend at work about an open slot on the Vegabus.

Wednesday morning, no word on the Vegas situation. I was feeling a little guilty for having invited myself along anyway. I still considered dropping a reminder, but in the end I decided it would happen if I was welcome. I opted instead to go shooting with my brother and I invited my visiting buddy along as well. I think I spent most of the afternoon daydreaming about what possessions I could hoc to finance my next planned purchase, A Taurus Millennium Pro (that's a gun) for concealed carry. after shooting, my brother and I gathered the brass from around us and took it home to prep for reloading. I went over to my married buddy's house to play cards to kill time till about 7:30. I went to a little birthday party to make good on what works out to be a cycle of bi-monthly encounters with someone by now all but estranged to me. It was pleasant-ish, with a slight smack of obligation on my hostesses part. I took my leave a little later than comfortable and spent the rest of the night with the melodic tones of Jeff Buckley and Leonard Cohen's deliberations on relationships-gone-awry, and misguided affections playing in my ear.

Thursday I spent much of my time in bed. I had told my buddy the night before that intended to sleep until someone or something woke me up. It proved to be my resolve to get over myself and find something worth doing that brought me out of my semi-conscious reclusion. I killed some time looking for a good read on half.com and browsing an enthusiast forum before I took a shower and headed over to my brothers place to deprimer some casings from Wednesday's shooting excursion. My brother can always say something witty or altogether offensive enough to distract me from my self pity. My two Memphian buds were supposed to come over and help me film some footage to mess around with, but in the spirit of the past 3 years of my movie making career, it was all talk and no action. They opted for a hot meal instead-- but I was still invited.

I found out later that night that the guy I had gotten to cover my Friday shift had flaked out, and it was only in my message reminding him to show that I found out he had "made other plans." I spent about 3 hours trying to find someone to take the shift so I wouldn't have to come in (this was to be my first weekend off in over 8 months, and I was kinda looking forward to it, even if I was stuck in town with nothing to do.) However, after a single well-meaning offer and about 30 'negative's, I gave up. I decided to confirm my Sunday coverage just to be sure, to which the text reply read "I can't, sorry."

This marks the first time in about 3 years that I got really, really, by-the-book, pissed(not counting Alaska, because I wasn't really alive then). I threw my phone at the wall and clenched my fist for a minute. then I grabbed my phone to let my boss know that I was going to be working the weekend afterall.

My weekend at work started off prettishiddy. I was not in the mood to spend the last 3 days of my spring break doing what I had been doing week in and week out for the past 32 weeks in a row. I got through a 3 hour block of meetings before I finally decided that it was within my capacity to let it slide off my shoulder and just pretend that this weekend had always been intended to be business as usual. It really helped to change my attitude and the day pretty much whizzed by. Luckily my Saturday shift cover guy was good on his word and I got look forward to my first Saturday off since last August.

Saturday morning I meant to be up and about early, checking to see if I could meet with the UFSA rep at school about starting some courses to get the ball rolling. I want to look into working as a wildland firefighter this summer and there is a certification course required before I'm eligible. I slept in however... and I woke up to a phone call from my (bored) Memphis buddy wanting to go to lunch with a girl we both knew from Memphis who just moved out here for school. We met up with her and her roommates at Brick Oven Pizza and had a few slices of Nostalgia, I had a Calizone. They invited us to tag along with them to Temple Square since a couple of them had never been. After some troubleshooting we all piled into my 4Runner and I drove us there.

It's been a while since I was there, and really it was nice to have some sort of religious experience. After a couple of tours we went to a party by U of U and watched Better Off Dead. They fed us, too-- Pizza, waffles and fried chicken (chicken and waffles may sound bad, but I remembered passing up an opportunity to try it at Roscoe's in L.A. and decided to give it a try, IT is SO good. I ate mine taco-style, and smothered in syrup.) As we left I noticed that my car was having some trouble shifting from 2nd to 3rd gear, but it eventually did and when we got on the interstate it was working just fine. however, after 30 minutes or so my "A/T OIL TEMP" light came on. so we stopped and let it cool down in a gas station parking lot for a good 15 minutes. it didn't come back on the rest of the way home.

On my drive to work Sunday morning my 4Runner wouldn't shift out of 1st gear, I crippled to work at 20 MPH. nothing changed over the course of my 14 hour shift-- same story on the drive home.

I'll be riding the bus to school in the morning.