En Tequila Es Verdad

Well friends, you might think from the title that I am cheating on my old friend beer, but that is only partially true.  We have developed sort of a symbiotic relationship.  As we all know, beer is full of delicious gut-making calories.  Since I have been trying to maintain my girlish figure, I have decided to stop drinking beer at home as much as possible.  I know what you are all thinking, and don't worry, I will still be able to write...just sober.  Ha! Gotcha... No, I'll be using other means.  

Now I have tried to take a page out of my roommates book and drink "Beam-eronies" but I am not a huge bourbon fan so that didn't work out.  Straight vodka is pretty good but wicked expensive when you take into account the need for the top shelf stuff and lemons.  So that leaves chick drinks and tequila.  Up till recently that was a nauseating thought.

Let me take you all on an adventure that took place a little over 7 years ago.  I was dilligently working on my degree at the University of Arizona (I know you are all thinking about how I misspelled diligently, but hell, I got kicked out of the school for a reason...).  It was Halloween night and I was working on a pretty good swerve.  Out of nowhere come these two Mexicans fresh across the border carrying two large bottles of liquor.  Me being fluent in drunken Spanglish decided it was my duty to go talk to them (read: drink of their bottles).  I say "hellola" to the first bottle, I mean guy and take a drink...my first taste of Southern Comfort (very good in a Mind Grinder(beer, orange juice, and a shot of soco)). Mexican #2 holds up Senor Jose... I tilt the bottle with no need of salt or lime.  He decides to stop me when he feels I am taking too much of his precious bottle.  30 minutes later I am being poured into my friends Javelin by a gorilla and an ear of corn.  Next thing I remember is a rather large hairy dude in a pink dress and a blonde wig screaming "My belly..." at the top of his lungs whilst holding the hem of his dress over his head.

Since that day for some reason unbeknownst to me, I have not been the biggest fan of tequila.  This all changed after my trip to Key West (more to come on that).  A local their ordered what he called a Mexican Sunset.  In all actuality, a Mexican Sunset is my Mind Grinder minus the SoCo...that was our own addition.  His version is more of a really retarded version of a Salty Dog; tequila and grapefruit juice.  After showing my disgust, he made me try it and it turns out I like it a lot!  Just not enough to pay for it at a bar...

Hence where the symbiotic relationship between beer and tequila comes into play.  When I am out drinking, I'll stick with the cheaper beer.  But when I am at home I'll go with the yummy Mexican Salty Sunset Dog-thingy...it's like healthy and stuff!  Jose Cuervo you are a friend of mine, I'd like to drink you with a little-uh grapefruit juice?  Eh, Shelly West won't mind a little creative bastardization.

Up Yours, Amateur Economists!

I sit here with my two favorite thigs in front of me- A 32oz Bud Light (FL doesn't sell 40oz) and a second so the first doesn't get lonely. Apply the proper lubrication to the sheer boredom of being lonely and it equals your favorite and mine, blog time. One would think, since it has been forever since I have written, that I have neither been bored nor drunk in a long time. This however, is not the case...I have been very drunk and very bored very recently (are you allowed to use the same word 3 times in one sentence?). It just so happens luckily for me and not you that they have not coincided. Insert tonight...primed and ready, I shall expound on the one thing that has been on my mind for the last few weeks...sex. No wait, that is always there. Un-assing the Air Force! That is it!
I have 294 days to go until I sit down in front of my computer and listen to Tamil Radio Online (www.fmworldmusic.com) and spark up a fatty. Not that I have and real burning desire to really smoke pot as I hate the smell, but the Air Force has forbidden it and I am kind of in a mood to go against whatever the AF is for for a bit... I don't want people to get the wrong idea here. I do not regret the time I spent in the AF. I have grown a lot as a person and met some kick ass people. It is however, time to move on. Recently, everyday at work seems to have reinforced this sentiment. For the most part, everyone I have told about my plan to terminate my enlistment has been pretty cool. A handful though can't seem to keep from telling me how terrible the economy is and how shitty it is "out there". I love this statement! "Out There"... As if I live in a world free from monetary obligations. Do they think we are party to a different set of rules because we wear a cool outfit? Who knows!
All of this compounds even further when I tell them I am passing up a $75K bonus to get out... However, while sitting at the bar tonight I did some quick calculations and came up with some startling numbers. After taxes, (I went low at 30% cause...well, I was at a bar. Give me a break) it breaks down to around $8750 a year, $730 a month and an earth shattering $24 a day. I know what you are all saying..."I'd take $24 a day..." But lets take that even further. As I sit here drunk writing, my phone could ring and I could be called into work. So yes, I work 24/7. That means we are talking $1 an hour! Anybody up for another 0300 (3:00 am for you non-military folk) recall to be at work in an hour just to make sure we can?
I am by far not the only one planning on telling the Air Force to shove their $1 an hour either. My coworker Sean W. and I were talking earlier today about it. We were discussing filing the pipe-dream paperwork that would allow us to get out 120 days early to go to school. I brought up the fact that maybe the extra 4 months savings would be nice (like I am saving...Ha!). He made the point that the little savings that would be accrued would not make much of a difference. I like the way he thought until he told me he has been saving $500 a month since he has been in and now has around $40,000! After I picked my jaw up off the floor I began thinking how pathetic I must be that my savings account has a minuscule negative $3 in it (it was an expensive month, give me a break). This thought vexed me for the next few hours.
It wasn't until after I canceled plans with one girl to go out with another that I began to change my thinking. Sure, I may not have any money in the bank or any real material possessions to show for my 7 years in the Air Force, but I have a lot of miles on my body. I have had more fun in the last 7 years than most people have had in a lifetime! Sean can keep his World of Warcraft and his $40K. If we go back 7 years and find out that my reason to join the military was arrant boredom, then I would say I fulfilled my goals! Sure, having school finished and money in the bank would be pretty sweet, but what would have been the point?
When it comes down to it, I have had a lot of fun. I have drank my way through most of the US and over 24 countries spanning 5 continents! I'll have to vacation to Australia and Antarctica doesn't count. All in all, I am very pleased about my experiences, but I would still not consider staying in. Flying is inherently dangerous and I have been lucky to not be injured or killed or to have to bury one of my friends. You know there are people out there who are actively trying to kill me (no I did not sleep with their girlfriend)? Getting shot at is not fun...especially when you can't shoot back. No my friends, it is time to move on. I know I still have just under 300 days left, but God willing it will go quickly. Wish me luck in my future endeavors and I promise to try and get bored and drunk more often!