My friends, I have some news. For some reading this will be bad news, for some it will be good; but my time on this island is coming to an end.
"One year?" you may be saying. "One year is all you're going to get out of the Caribbean before you call it quits?" Well, one year was all I needed to realize (at least partially) what I want and what I don't want. Here are a few examples:
What I want: To be able to watch and play hockey.
What I don't want: To watch three games in the entire regular season and not play hockey at all.
What I want: To see the seasons change, to shovel snow, to wear jeans for a reason other than fashion.
What I don't want: To continue to sweat through every shirt I ever wear, everyday. I even sweat through my boxers AND shorts for portions of my shifts at Fat Turtle.
What I want: To be able to see my friends and family. To know that to see my best friend and big brother (same person) in Malvern, PA is only a five hour drive away.
What I don't want: The exact opposite. There is an extremely large monetary difference between driving five hours and flying five hours.
The bottom line is its time to move on. Looking back 30 years from now, there is no way I could regret the past year. All the amazing people I've met, all the incredible experiences I've had - shit I sliced my foot on reef cliffdiving on Virgin Gorda which it didn't heal for three months and I still think it was worth it. I had to hobble-dance at the Christmas party. But when it comes down to it, this place is just not for me. I'm glad I know now, before I become a multi-billionaire and buy a timeshare from Matty that would just leave me in misery because I love cold not hot.
I have approximately one month left before I leave. The next post will be my bucket list of things to take care of before I leave this beautiful island. To the few that understand, this is my deathstar - the one greatest thing I have to accomplish before I am done. I just hope its better than Episode I.
(To those who don't get the very end, I recommend you watch the movie Fanboys. Its an epic story, even if you aren't a Star Wars fan).
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
I'm Planning A Baby Shower
Yes, you read correctly. Me - the same man who swore off babies after having his heart broken by one when he was six months old. If I'm walking by a baby it takes literally all my strength to hold myself back from punching it in the face. Why me? I was put in a position of unforeseen circumstances. And by that I mean nobody wanted to play "Restaurant Manager" anymore.
So the call comes in with the request of having a baby shower at the pool bar. Immediately I feel relieved, because its going to be way easier to shower babies safely down into the pool than it would be over a hard surface like the restaurant floor. Now I only need to hire a lifeguard as oppose to having a medic on hand. Upon sharing this information with Erin, our Assistant to the Regional Manager of Bartending, she informed me that there will be no babies falling from the sky but instead a party that celebrates the fact that someone will have a baby soon. I don't get it. Celebrating something before it happens? I don't wipe before I poop, that's all I'm saying.
That was pretty much the only joke I wanted to make, and the rest really isn't that interesting, so I'm going to stop writing now. Oh wait no - two things:
1.) I was a mess the day of the shower because I had no idea what I was doing or how I was going to execute everything. I'm a bit of a perfectionist and I've never been anything but perfect yet, so the challenge presented made me incredibly nervous. Thankfully I had the afforementioned Erin - who was only around for the pure amusement of watching me fail - pull a Vader and come back from the dark side to help me find solid ground. Without her it would have been an epic failure, and she deserves the accolades.
2.) At one point it started raining. I know, we live on a tropical island and rain comes and goes in five minutes with no way to actually have it forecast (in the words of Jimmie Johnson, "Weatherman is the easiest job in the world. Just say there's a 50% chance of rain, that way you're always at least half right."). It came right in the middle of the Act II - present opening (I now know that Act I is food and Act III is cake) and I probably would have helped them move stuff but they had already run over on their time and I wanted to get out of there. Plus that seemed like a whole lot of work. So the rain passes, and it gets to the point where its barely misting. I think to myself, "Self, why aren't they back enjoying the wonderful view and awesome party-times?" Boggled, I took a look around the attendees for the main contact when I realize they're all speaking Spanish. "Oh, that's right," I thought to myself, "Puerto Ricans don't like to get wet."
I still don't get why its called a baby shower if they aren't going to throw babies. My version would be way cooler.
So the call comes in with the request of having a baby shower at the pool bar. Immediately I feel relieved, because its going to be way easier to shower babies safely down into the pool than it would be over a hard surface like the restaurant floor. Now I only need to hire a lifeguard as oppose to having a medic on hand. Upon sharing this information with Erin, our Assistant to the Regional Manager of Bartending, she informed me that there will be no babies falling from the sky but instead a party that celebrates the fact that someone will have a baby soon. I don't get it. Celebrating something before it happens? I don't wipe before I poop, that's all I'm saying.
That was pretty much the only joke I wanted to make, and the rest really isn't that interesting, so I'm going to stop writing now. Oh wait no - two things:
1.) I was a mess the day of the shower because I had no idea what I was doing or how I was going to execute everything. I'm a bit of a perfectionist and I've never been anything but perfect yet, so the challenge presented made me incredibly nervous. Thankfully I had the afforementioned Erin - who was only around for the pure amusement of watching me fail - pull a Vader and come back from the dark side to help me find solid ground. Without her it would have been an epic failure, and she deserves the accolades.
2.) At one point it started raining. I know, we live on a tropical island and rain comes and goes in five minutes with no way to actually have it forecast (in the words of Jimmie Johnson, "Weatherman is the easiest job in the world. Just say there's a 50% chance of rain, that way you're always at least half right."). It came right in the middle of the Act II - present opening (I now know that Act I is food and Act III is cake) and I probably would have helped them move stuff but they had already run over on their time and I wanted to get out of there. Plus that seemed like a whole lot of work. So the rain passes, and it gets to the point where its barely misting. I think to myself, "Self, why aren't they back enjoying the wonderful view and awesome party-times?" Boggled, I took a look around the attendees for the main contact when I realize they're all speaking Spanish. "Oh, that's right," I thought to myself, "Puerto Ricans don't like to get wet."
I still don't get why its called a baby shower if they aren't going to throw babies. My version would be way cooler.
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