I know it's been over three weeks since my last post. I'll be honest with you, my last assigned entry post for class was "(E)lephant (D)rone "(C)am" so I just haven't got around to writing new entries. The fact that Weebly's mobile app doesn't allow me to add posts while on the app doesn't help either. I won't promise you that I'll have posts every Tuesday like before anymore because I'd just be lying. They'll probably be sporadic like most of my life decisions; varying from 1-4 posts a week, but I'll make sure there's at least one. It'll be better this way because I can whatever I want ..to an extent.
Here I was, hiding in the corner of the living room avoiding the annual Thanksgiving questions, "When are you gonna bring a girl home for Thanksgiving?", "How are your grades?", "What do you plan to do after school?" Then there's always that one family member that avoids all of the standard questions and pries straight for your soul. For the purposes of the story his name will be Dan. And Dan was headed straight for me. I was just waiting for the cue from my cousin to rally the troops and sneak off so we could all start the real party in a tucked away room any moment. First words out of his mouth, "So, you're thinking pharmaceutical sales.. even with the recent hits to the industry? How do you plan to handle that?" Slow down bro. I came to eat, see family, and relax. So, here was my ingenious response. "I don't like to limit my options. Sure, a pharmaceutical sales rep is what I aspire to be now but, who knows, maybe I'll decide to be a TV talk-show host one day." For my freshmen year of high school in Freshmen Seminar class we each took a career aptitude test and that's the career option I got. I did a whole project on what my life would be like as one. It seemed pretty awesome, not going to lie. That could be a story for another time. And with that, I walked away. Fast. To the bathroom. That's usually my go-to tuck away spot if I want to exit a conversation abruptly, yet politely. I guess that tactic is ruined now. After emerging from the bathroom (after dying in Hungry Shark) I perused around to find my brother and cousin. It wasn't looking like our plan was gonna work this year. Each of them were trapped on opposite sides of the dining room in heavy conversation with different family members. They should've just downloaded Hungry Shark like I told them. It gives you a guaranteed average of 7 minutes out of any conversation. Yes, I counted. You just have to have an "upset" stomach a lot. Don't try it (too much) around you're mom. You'll be dragged to the doctors more than you already have to. My grandma and my mom were my shields for the rest of the night. I talk to them on a normal basis so we had casual conversations; avoiding the bullets everyone else was speaking in the form of questions. Moral of the story: call your mom and grandma more often?
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Does anyone know why EDC is called Electric Daisy Carnival? Yeah, I'm sure you or I could find out quickly with a google search but the majority of people reading this probably didn't even know that's what EDC stood for. Personally, I like my name better (I'm lying, those are the first 3 words that came to mind). I am no festival junkie by any means, not that it's a bad thing. Just have never been introduced to it before last weekend. If you haven't been, or to a festival similar, I would highly recommend it, and here's why: This is one of the only places you'll ever go that there's so many happy people around. No, really. I went and was mind blown observing all of the people from different walks of life I came across. Just gazing around I saw couples probably in their 30s to 40s, but also college aged kids just having a great time. You're listening to world renowned DJs performing for the sole intention of entertaining everyone. It's gotta be expected. Now, it's not an unknown fact that a lot of the crowd that goes to these events do some type of drug to "enlighten" their experience. It could honestly be why there are so many happy people around. The way I see it, don't let them bother you, and it won't affect your experience. One kid sucked. He didn't want to get off the boat ride. You bet there's rides. And you better have bet I rode that boat ride. Good vibes onward though. The atmosphere is unreal. It's practically Halloween again. Everyone wearing what they feel expresses themselves most. There was this one kid that asked for some water, I obliged then realized he had a pink and a green contact in. Even then, you could tell he was rolling (Urban Dictionary is your friend here). Just glad I could help. My favorite part was that it wasn't like a concert where you're locked in to listening to the same artist for hours. Once you get bored, walk a short distance and boom: you're at a whole new stage and artist. The fact that the festival is 2 days long, running from 1-12 is just the icing on the cake. One thing I couldn't go without mentioning though is the giant mozzarella sticks. My mouth is watering right now thinking about them. Some how I have yet to mention that mozzarella sticks are my go-to food. These were the best mozz sticks I've ever had. Instant regret not buying a second day pass; even if it were only to get a second round of them. If thinking festivals aren't your thing I highly recommend stepping out of your box and trying one. I included a video below of one of my favorite sets. The day you first get handed your license from the DMV is one of the best time in any 16-18 year old's life. But, was it as exciting as riding a bike for your first time? I know, it's hard for most people to imagine the feeling of each in a comparable manner for both; with the time gap. Not that you all need more dirt on me, but I didn't learn how to ride a bike until I was in 8th grade. Yeah... So, that was about a four year difference for me, and I can tell you that riding a bike for the first time gives so much more of a satisfaction.
Think about it like this: you're driving, see something cool off to the side of the road, but can't see it up close due to vehicle restrictions. Now, imagine if you're riding a bike. You see a bald eagle flying, and you're chasing that bald eagle. I may be biased because I don't have a car. I walk and uber everywhere. (Now I have the song "Uber Everywhere" stuck in my head. You can enjoy that one on your free time and thank me later.) Believe it or not, I enjoy walking more. Not that I'm ready to walk 50 miles to the nearest Chick fil a but you see a lot more than you would have driving. My insect class is definitely what made the change in me. Read the "Bug Safari" blog of you haven't. Nature is great, I'll put it at that. The original point of the story is that the first bike streak down the road is life changing. It wasn't that I was riding an old tricycle until 8th grade, I had just never really rode bikes. Besides my Big Wheel when I was 4. I used to fly on that thing. You just don't get that same sense of satisfaction driving your first mile down the road. Can't say I've rode much bikes since but whether you choose to get out and walk or ride your Big Wheel around town, I'm for it. You might get made fun of for the second one, but that's besides the point. Today I woke up wondering when the point in my life came when I decided I didn’t want to be an astronaut or a cowboy anymore. Before you chuckle to yourself, think about it. We all had endless imaginations as kids and then one day… BAM all you can think about is what obstacle of life you have to tackle next. It’s crazy when you realize it. Why can’t there be room for both? Maybe it’s the school system, maybe it’s our parents, or maybe it really is just life.
There’s always that one kid in high school, keeping to himself, never feeling that he could amount to anything, but it could be simply because of the current structure of society. The basic outline of the typical person from today’s standard is: go to school K-12, continue your education in college or further to get a well-paying job, pay back your school loans with said job, get married, have kids, and continue working to put them through the whole cycle. Obviously there’s exceptions to this, not everyone follows the same path. But this is what is deemed as “successful”. It’s sad, really, that money is the hypothetical ball and chain that is the root of may people’s issues. A quote that has stuck with me is: “What if the cure for cancer is trapped inside the mind of a person that can’t afford an education?” - Unknown Realistically, I am only in school because I am following that aforementioned path above. If I could, I would still ride out in the Wild West, hang out at saloons, and search for gold. Woody was my favorite character from Toy Story. If you’re a Buzz Lightyear fan leave the site now. Sadly, no place like that exists, and if you’re not working, you’re freeloading. Don’t get me wrong, I love the opportunity I have to be at a great university so far away from home but school is draining. The closer I get to graduation, the more I look forward to the day I close my last biology textbook. I do feel I have done decently well at keeping a strong creative spirit and imagination. The day I become the business man, working a 9-5, only to come home already dreading work the next day, is the day I book a ticket to a remote island. Sometimes you have to sit and think back to what inspired you to draw those scribbles that only you saw as an epic battle between a shark and a t-rex. We weren’t meant to be slaves to paper and coin. Ever think back to a time where solely one decision you made completely changed your life? I still remember the day I submitted my application to transfer to UCF. I was just sitting around my house and my mom casually said “hey, I’m applying to jobs in Florida. I think you should apply to some schools down there.” At the time I didn’t take it seriously but the more I thought about it, I got more excited thinking about living in Florida. I never lived outside of New York and New Jersey. Jersey sucks. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Screw it, I applied.
The funniest part about me ending up here is that I only came across UCF by searching “schools in Florida with late application dates.” It was June at the time. I didn’t tell a single person, I didn’t want to jinx it. That next month I waited, and waited. Not going to lie, I began doubting the decision (not that I had any commitment) but I started thinking irrationally. “Don’t gators come out of toilets down there?” “I heard hail there is pretty bad.” Worst case scenario, I didn’t mind my original university, I just felt trapped. There was only 3,000 students. My high school only had 600 less students. July was ending and my mom decided to not take any of the jobs. Then August came. That little application status on the site changed from pending to accepted. i kid you not I can’t remember a happier time in my life. Maybe when I got accepted to college the first time. I contemplated it for the next few days and made my decision. That Tuesday I booked my flight for that Wednesday. No one knew I had even applied to another school at this point. So what do I do? I announced my transfer on Twitter. The amount of “WTFs” I got following that tweet was unreal. On top of that, telling people my flight was at 10AM wasn’t any easier. I didn’t care I had to do it for myself. You gotta live a little once in a while. My first time in Florida was two weeks before, mind you. Never Orlando. Pretty sporadic, I know. Thinking back now, if I stayed at my other college I would have been looking forward to the end of college. It was in Chester, the second worst city in America, and I was only 30 minutes away from home. Now, I’m at the second most populated school in the country in Orlando. People vacation here. I’ve only had a few friends visit me but every one of them has asked how I get anything done here. My answer is always “very difficultly.” It could be due to the fact that I’m running off three hours of sleep for Entomology, studying for my lab midterm tomorrow. It could be due to the fact that I get asked practically daily why there is a picture of me with a net, fanny pack, and giant beach hat on the internet. Today I thought I would talk about one of the requirements for one of my classes: bug catching. First off, peep the picture below to get an idea of what my attire is like during one of these outings. There’s also a picture under the “Zealot” setting in the heading my site. I look great in both.
Entomology is the study of insects. The ones with six legs. If you ask me why I took an entire class devoted to insects I wouldn’t be able to tell ya. I needed an upper level biology course but I could’ve taken mammalogy. Not that it would be easy by any means but at least I would be handling animals I’ve heard of before (an insect technically counts as an animal). There’s so many bugs out there you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. There’s people who devote their whole lives to these little guys. That’s probably the craziest part to me. If you want a detailed description on how to go about one of these bug safaris continue reading this paragraph. If not, carry on to the next paragraph but you’ll be missing out. You start off by using that giant net you me holding there and gaining in a swift figure eight motion through brussels of grass. Next you swoop it up really quick, squeeze the part of the net closest to the net shut and check out what you got. That’s the boring way. I like to prey on the biggest insect I see running, hopping, or flying around as if I’m a lion in the savannas sneaking up on a gazelle. It’s all about the technique. I wouldn’t say either is necessarily wrong, but mine is definitely more fun. That’s all that matters, right? Once you gather your specimen in the nets you carefully move them into a tube. Now, this tube may have ethanol in it to preserve (you are killing them) for later observation and study. If the insect has soft wings, such as a moth, you keep it alive …until you get back to the lab and freeze it. Then it’s dead. At the lab various pinning techniques are used to observe the bug in your collection. The goal is to get twenty five different species, you get more points if they are from varying orders. It’s a ton of your final grade. Somehow, even after learning so much about insects I can’t say I don’t still swat any mosquito or gnat coming my way. I don’t think those count though. Nobody likes a mosquito. I know this class sounds like all fun and games but when you have to know the insects by there full order, family, genus, and species name it loses the glamour. Let’s just say a butterfly is really called a “butterfly”. There’s even reasoning behind why butterfly is one word and not two, like honey bee is. Wild, I know. As much as I joke about this portion of the class I actually kind of like it. It’s different, I’m not sitting in a classroom for three hours, and I’m learning a lot. Try something new for once, you might like it. Just watch out for velvet ants. Those hurt. A lot. Fall, Autumn, potato, potatto. Does anyone actually say “potatto”? I didn’t even realize it was fall until it was time to start dating all of my assignments as October and not September. What they say about Florida is true: the only months here are summer and spring. That’s cool and all during the winter months but fall is all about foliage, football, and the start of the holidays. Obviously Florida has football and Halloween/Thanksgiving but it’s as if those things just kinda happen here. Halloween is the one thing I will admit is better for warmer weather because of the costume possibilities. Get your head out of the gutter, I’m referring to anyone. Going out trick-or-treating as a kid in the cold sucked. Not that it mattered because I was too excited to get my candy to notice, but as you get older cold weather just becomes one of those things that can be an inconvenience at times.
My costume choices throughout college have been interesting to say the least. Most people my age use the holiday as an excuse to show off (that goes for girls and guys). I’ve been a sailor, a retro 80’s dancer, 12, and Rihanna. The excuse “I lost a bet” applies to that last one. And before you search my name on Google Images, no, there aren’t any pictures on the internet of me in any of these costumes. I made sure of that. Also, I genuinely forget to take pictures of good times I’m having. Personally, my favorite was when I was dressed as the 12 year old. Partly because I got to wear jorts, and partly because I got to wear one of those helicopter hats. I’ve wanted one since I was about five. There was a costume party at one of the local bars that night, with a prize going to the best costume, so that’s initially what got me stoked. The prize was $100, cash. In addition to my jean shorts and helicopter hat, I wore suspenders, tall white tube socks, sneakers, and red/white striped American Eagle shirt. To say the least it was a conversation starter that night; for the better or worse I’ll never know. Inside the bar you saw the usual girls dressed as bunnies or cats, dudes dressed in the first sleeveless costume they came across at the store. My one friend proposed we take a shot for every girl we saw in an animal costume. Terrible idea. That game ended after five minutes maximum. For good reason. I’m the type of person to fully embrace whatever I do, so I was loving the attention I was getting from the hat alone. It was time for the contest and by this point the bar had filled up quite a bit so there was more diversity in the costumes cycling through the bar. As we approached the stage I noticed one kid dressed in a transformer costume he seemingly made himself. “This guy is gonna win for sure,” I thought to myself. He won. If someone put that much effort into their costume you just have to respect it at that point. He wasn’t even going for functionality around the bar, he solely came out to win. The rest of the night carried on as a typical night at the bar would. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that fall is great. Maybe my favorite season. Halloween is awesome. You get to be someone else for a day. Life is too short to take everyday seriously. Remember your first ever “real” job? Remember how nervous you were your first week? Yeah, that lasted about a month for me. Having only ever been a lifeguard, bar back, and working for my school’s athletic department, I never had a corporate job. I got my own desk here. MY own desk. That small fact was enough to make me know it wasn’t going to be so bad.
I just sat there in training that first morning observing everyone else. “Was I too dressed up? Not dressed up enough?” It seemed everyone around the office had varying degrees of professional to non-professional attire. Now, something as trivial as this would not bother most people but, again, the only jobs I had up until this point I had uniforms at each of my jobs. I was always told you want to be the best dressed person in the room. Later, I came to find out that there is no set dress code as long as you don’t make anyone uncomfortable. So essentially I could have came in wearing boxers. Alright, maybe not boxers but dress attire for work is the last thing on anyone’s mind here. Back to the training session. This was all going on when I was still new in my marketing minor. I still wasn’t entirely sure what revenue even was. I just knew it was good for the company. A good majority of my coworkers were business majors or a major related. Every time a business term was thrown around, I would simply nod my head yes in agreement and smile. Works every time. I began thinking to myself, “am I going to have to study for this job as if it were a class?” At the conclusion of training week it was time to hit the phones. As a junior recruiter for healthcare professionals I hadn’t the slightest clue what I was doing. I started calling doctors, and boy, I butchered so many names. Doctors aren’t the best people to piss off if I might add. If your last name is ten letters and seven of those are vowels seemingly jumbled around… c’mon man I’m trying my best. Lots of hang ups and people cursing me out the first week. Great start. After a few weeks though, making the calls felt like second nature. It got to the point where I could personalize my message without looking at the script. I got so used to making the calls where I would accidentally change the pitch of my voice when speaking to a waiter/waitress, or family member on the phone. Have a great day became have a GREAT day. Message of the story is to stop overthinking the little things. You might sell yourself short and not meet your full potential. If I had kept worrying about how I compared to other people in the office I would never have became good at this job. And now I love my internship and the experience I have gained so far. I got to thinking, and I really do think I am going to keep writing blog posts even after this class is over. I hadn’t a clue what I wanted to write about up until an hour ago. Most people go to a coffee shop. I went to a pizza joint. The word joint is severely underused these days. As I was saying, I was sitting there and the song “Footloose” came on. This immediately gave me a flashback to my sixth grade talent show.
Now, I have never seen the movie Footloose. The original is older than I am. I just refuse to watch the lazy spawn of a reboot. Yes, I know the newer one got better reviews, but directors deciding to make reboots of classics is one of my biggest pet peeves. Just hit the drawing board and come up with original ideas, geez. Moving on, I was sitting in class one day and they had asked everyone who wanted to participate in the class talent show act to raise their hands. It was announced the theme was going to be Footloose. I took a quick scan of the room and only five out of the twenty-four kids in the class had raised their hands. One of the girls though was my crush. I never danced a day in my life but at that moment I sure as hell was ready to learn. I shot my hand up so fast you would think I got electrocuted. First day of practice, instant regret. I have never been one for classics so having to hear that song over, and over again was terrible. What made it worse, the song would be started from the top every minute until we got down the first few counts of the song. Pretty sure my eardrums became perforated that day. Fast forward two weeks and we finally get up to the couples’ part. This was my shot. So we all shouted who we wanted to be paired with at the same time. We’ll call her Rachel. So I quickly yell “Rachel!”, at practically the same time she yells my buddy’s name. That day I learned what a tumble weed rolling by sounds like. There was awkward silence for what felt like a minute until the mom instructing us made her own pairings. Still didn’t get paired with Rachel. I kid you not, I went home that night and contemplated quitting. The show was in a week. Learning how to grapevine, step-tap, and the iconic Footloose shuffling move was all for nothing now. I was told I had to stay in the show by my mom (I was still eleven at the time) so I did. The night of the show, still a bit salty, I went on stage ready to show off everything we had practiced. This was my first time performing anything in front of that large a group so I didn’t know what to expect. It was awesome. The feeling of wanting to poop myself on stage went away once the song started and the crowd started cheering. I wasn’t even thinking of Rachel anymore. Screw Rachel. I was just happy I stuck with it and made my mom happy. Later that night I went to the local pizza joint (I eat a lot of pizza) with friends to celebrate. These girls at the table behind us kept turning around to look at us. I had seen them around town and knew they were seventh graders. Next, the last thing I would’ve ever thought happened. One tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I was the guy that performed the Footloose dance. I stuttered out a yes. She then wrote her number on a gum wrapper (I didn’t have a cell phone at the time) and told me to call her. Holy shit. I was still in elementary school and a middle schooler wanted me to call her. I chickened out and never did. Maybe I lost the gum wrapper. That part I’m not too sure about. It’s crazy to think about how one song can bring back so much. Music is one of those things in life that can take you to another place without actually leaving. I know my first blog post was a little dry, I get that. Think of it as a test flight, overlook the fact that it has to remain posted for my class assignment, and move on. I finally decided that I want to write about my near-daily escapades. Whether that be me attempting to wake board, biting my tongue at work while dealing with a rude person on the phone, or a weekend spanning two, three, or four days. This is the latter.
For some reason, going into Labor Day Weekend it didn't occur to me that this weekend consisted of three days. That’s three nights (four if you’re including Thursday) of “anything goes” debauchery. Maybe I would have passed on Thursday night if I had done my math before. We were headed downtown that night so naturally you have to pregame. A pregame is never just a pregame. We started off playing the normal games until someone suggested we up the ante. Naturally, possessing the athletic prowess that I do, I was the next to lose newly after that rule was added. There was a pump filled with beer. And that's all I'm going to say about that. We hadn't even gotten on the bus to go downtown yet. Once we got on the buses, we quickly realized this is not the typical downtown bus. This was a party bus, with lights, poles, and freshmen gleaming with that freshmen look. Don’t get me wrong, a couple of years ago I would not mind this crowd, being that I was in their shoes not long before. It’s different now though. Some of these kids probably got their braces off a month before, their license not long before that, and I’m graduating in a few months. I just called them kids. We get to the club and it’s nothing less than expected: blinding lights everywhere, college bartenders acting like they know what they're doing, girls on the dance floor dancing and most of the guys standing around waiting for the first girl to come up to them. I love it. My friend was guest bartending for her first time that night so my first drink tasted like three. Keeping in mind I had to work both of my internships the next morning, I told myself I would stop there. That always goes well. I looked over at VIP and that looked fun so I went over. The security guard stammered on about needing to be on the list. I was ready to turn around until my friend in VIP called me in and told the bouncer I’m with them. As he was banding me I remember having the biggest grin on my face like I had just won an Olympic medal. While looking around VIP I couldn’t believe my eyes; I never wanted to go back. Booths, tables, and complimentary bottle service served by girls in clad clothing. The attire was jungle theme that night. I spent the rest of my night there, meeting too many faces I would never remember, and getting numbers that would be lost in my phone forever once the night was over. Then it hit me, I had completely lost all of the friends I originally came with and the buses were about to leave. I scrambled back down to the other part of the bar, found them, and got back on the bus. The night ended late but I still made it to both of my internships in the morning. College. For the purposes of the word limit on this blog I have to end it here. A three day weekend is more than enough. I drank enough caffeine on the following Tuesday to make an elephant to do a handstand. |
Blurbs:This is where I speak about random life instances that could be a story with something to be gained from. Or, it may simply be that, a story. Archives
November 2016
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