Tuesday, March 22, 2005

We Will Become Silhouettes

I was just about to go to bed, I brushed my teeth and everything, but now I got the urge to blog about my trip. I think I may have a normal sleeping pattern for the next week or so. I've been dead tired ever since I got back. Going to bed at 2 am and getting up at 6:30 will do that to you.

Florida was wonderful. I really couldn't have asked for a better time. I kept telling people before I left, "This trip only needs to be 1/4 as fun as when I did this in Kentucky." It was 6000 times better than Kentucky. I told my mom that I'm pretty sure the reason it was better was because I could drink. And the weather was more in our favor this time. In Kentucky I actually got my first tan ever and it was about 80-85 degrees everyday. Makes for some not-so-good- working conditions. This time, it was overcast for 3 of the 4 working days, so that was great. I didn't end up sweating my balls off or dying of heat stroke, but that also means I didn't get to tan my titties. Sorry Gabe. Two of the days were nice enough to go to the beach, but even then it was kind of chilly. Still much better than Chicago though, so I didn't want to bitch. There is nothing better than calling you family saying, "I just got back from the beach, what are you doing? Freezing your ass off? I'm sorry to hear that."

I knew that Florida had been hit by the hurricanes last fall, but I didn't realize that I would get to see the damage up close. Pensacola was completely destroyed by Hurrican Floyd (I think it was Floyd). It was almost as if they hadn't picked up any of the debris at all. Trees uprooted all over the place, hotel signs completely mangled, houses destroyed and lots of store still closed. I heard some people say that the government only cares about the million dollar beachfront homes and they're the first getting fixed, so the rest of Pensacola is getting fucked over. It's like they basically have no money to repair anything that was damaged. It's 6 months later and it looks like the hurricane hit last week.

Yeah, I built a house in 4 days, what now? Need me to shingle your roof? No problem. Put some OSB up? Hammer a nail in 2 pieces of wood in 3 whacks? Ok, maybe it really took me 25 whacks to get each nail in, but that was an improvement from the first day when Emily and I literally worked on this one nail for about 20 minutes. You should see my muscles. Arms of steel, baby. When we first got there on Monday, there was nothing but a concrete slab. By Thursday, there was a complete house up, roof and all. Of course the family still can't move in yet, there's tons more stuff to do, but they'll be in there by June they said. The homeowner came and worked with us for two days, and it was so awesome to work with the person who was actually going to be living there. She was so grateful and appreicative, it made you want to work harder. Sorry to get weepy on you for a minute, but what she said almost made me cry. She goes, "I've lived in my apartment for the past 11 years and it's been my life long dream to live in my own house, where my children have their own rooms. And the fact that you people are building my house for me - you have no idea how grateful I am to you." We were making her life long dream come true. That was the best thing to hear. Even though I was tired and sweaty and gross and didn't think I could possibly hammer one more goddamn nail, just remembering that I was helping someones dream come true made it a little easier. Ok, I'm done being sappy. On with the drunkeness.

The people we went with were fucking awesome. There was a free happy hour in the hotel each night that gave us FREE BEER AND WINE. Could life get any better? I submit that it cannot. From there we would go to a restuarant/bar and get more fucked up. I feel like I made 33 new best friends. Our roommates Leigh and Sara were fucking awesome. I actually might go to Leigh's for Easter since I'm an orphan this weekend. I made some new minority friends, Cristina, Gaby and Natalia. I love them because I could call them my minority friends, and they would just call me a dumb white girl. It's probably the closet to hanging out with Jenn I've ever gotten. I've discovered that I will marry any man who can hammer a nail in a few whacks. I just want some guy to hammer me, what can I say. The word of the trip was definitly "bitches" and that was thanks to me, thankyouverymuch. I knew Leigh was going to be my friend when someone said the name "Anthony" and she goes "Who's Anthony? Who's Anthony? My drummer", from Wayne's World. I thought me and Keri were the only ones who thought of that line whenever someone says "Anthony". I hope the same group goes back next year, when I'll finally be 21 and not be a pain in the ass asking people to go get me a drink.

St. Patricks Say, good lord was that a fun night. It worked out perfectly that it was Thursday, cause Friday was our only day off which meant we could finally sleep in. We went to this place where luckily it was only 18+ to get in. I went straight into the bathroom once I was in to clean off the giganitc X and "UNDERAGE" stamp they put on both hands. There were about 15 different bars in this place, a karaoke one, piano room, outside there were playing reggae, a big dance floor and about 800 other different rooms. I did karaoke for the first time, to Me and Bobby McGee with my other roomie Sara. I must have been loaded cause I would never do that even slightly drunk. Then all of us were in the dance part, dancing together, it was great. I kept going up to random people to dance with them, to amuse everyone else. My pickup line was "I dance like a white girl!" Worked like a charm on all the guys.

To summarize:
-We built a house, but still got loaded every night.
- Made a bunch of new friends.
- St. Patty's Day was fucking awesome.
-I listened to the Postal Service the entire way there and back home. That's 17 hours each way. And I'm listening to it again right now. I'm addicted.
- I'll get my camera developed this week, but Emily has pictures on her digital camera, so I can show you our beautiful house if you want.
-I finally got to see the Nashville skyline. Bob Dylan was right, it is pretty.
- Emily is the best friend ever. We had such a great time together, I didn't even get crabby until the drive home. And even then, I can tell her "I'm crabby, and I don't know why, so I won't be talking for the next 2 or 3 hours" and she doesn't get mad. And she competely understands that I didn't mean to be bitchy when I asked "WHY ARE YOU BRUSHING YOUR TEETH?" She loves me, crabbiness and all.
- I'm abusive in my sleep. I like to hit people's faces with my hand. And I somehow ended up on Emily's side of the bed each night. Sorry lady. Thanks for putting up with me.

I know there was more I wanted to say, but I can't think of it right now. None of this is in order or anything, I just wrote about the first things that popped in my head. I had the best time on this trip and can't wait to do it again next year. Habitat for Humanity, bitches.

1 comment:

Jenn said...

You're obsessed with brushing your teeth and I cleaning my ears. It feels good, though, damnit!

I'm jealous that you were in Florida. But, hey, I got as far as El Paso. If I was the driver, I'd have kept going to find you!

I can't believe you built a house! That's freakin' awesome! You're a real man now. You're my hero! I think I wrote that on your last post thinking it was this post. Or maybe not. Who knows. Reading the part where you were getting weepy and talking about the lady of the house thanking you gave me chills. I hate it when you act queer.

You're abusive in your sleep, which means when we get the hotel in AZ, it better fucking be double beds!