Yesterday was my last day at work.
I'm going to miss it.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
Log Books!
One of my favorite things about sitting in a tower is the log book. We write contacts, conditions, and various other things that go on during the day in it. It's also a way to alleviate boredom. I have compiled a list of the best "notes" that end up in the "notes" sections of the log books.
July 10, 2008; SS
1400: Out of towner claims she saw a "pack of sharks" (aka Arizona sharks aka dolphins)...
July 25, 2008; SS
1650: Learned to whistle.
July 30, 2008; SS
We are strangers again!
June 20, 2008; TP
1520: Poke squid.
July 19, 2007; TP
1300: Caught a girl riding a guy like a horse. Wonder if I witnessed the conception of a child? Will he be able to surf?
July 27, 2008; DMS
1200: Seal, possibly dog, in surf zone.
July 23, 2008; DMS
1403: Grow up-->get thick--> ? -->keep it real
1700: Boat?
June 28, 2008; DMS
Large rip in front of tower... no, seriously...
July 12, 2007; TP
"more kelp than sand" --Unknown Poet
July 2, 2008; DMS
You know, sometimes I like wearing jeans and wifebeaters in the water...
July 10, 2008; SS
1400: Out of towner claims she saw a "pack of sharks" (aka Arizona sharks aka dolphins)...
July 25, 2008; SS
1650: Learned to whistle.
July 30, 2008; SS
We are strangers again!
June 20, 2008; TP
1520: Poke squid.
July 19, 2007; TP
1300: Caught a girl riding a guy like a horse. Wonder if I witnessed the conception of a child? Will he be able to surf?
July 27, 2008; DMS
1200: Seal, possibly dog, in surf zone.
July 23, 2008; DMS
1403: Grow up-->get thick--> ? -->keep it real
1700: Boat?
June 28, 2008; DMS
Large rip in front of tower... no, seriously...
July 12, 2007; TP
"more kelp than sand" --Unknown Poet
July 2, 2008; DMS
You know, sometimes I like wearing jeans and wifebeaters in the water...
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Hole contacts...
"Is there a rule against digging big holes on the beach?"
Shit shit shit, I was zoning out. Repeat what you said, I wasn't listening. Okay, just pretend you didn't hear her, she'll ask again.
"Excuse me, but are there rules against digging big holes on the beach?"
Ohhh I heard you that time. Awesome.
Thinking the woman toting a caravan of children wanted to dig a big hole on the beach, I smiled down at her. Hah, I love being a lifeguard. I get to be taller than everyone.
"There aren't any rules against it, as long as you don't dig it in front of my tower..."
But Helicopter Mommy interrupted me.
"Because I just saw a documentary on KJDFLKJJHGFSDLKJDFUTYWUYGVX (or whatever fuckin' acronym they're using these days) News about a high school kid who died when the hole he was digging collapsed."
Yeah, he was probably drunk. "Well, we don't have rules against it..."
"You should." She stalked off.
Excuse me? So not only am I interrupting natural selection by even doing my job (a force of nature I believe in very strongly, in fact), but you want me to enforce a "no hole-digging" edict on the beach as well? In addition to "no dogs, no glass, no alcohol, no smoking, no sitting by the bluff, etc"? What was really disturbing about this exchange, however, wasn't that this mom was concerned for her (multitude of) children's safety, but she expected me to parent for her. Rather than saying, "Okay, cunt-dropping A, don't climb into holes, because they may collapse on you," she wants me to fill in all the holes on the beach. So am I supposed to yank people out of the water because someone might drown? No, that's ridiculous-- but it's essentially what this woman wanted me to do. And the worst part is that Helicopter Mommy is going to produce selfish, entitled little brats that take and take and take, and do nothing good in the world.
Shit shit shit, I was zoning out. Repeat what you said, I wasn't listening. Okay, just pretend you didn't hear her, she'll ask again.
"Excuse me, but are there rules against digging big holes on the beach?"
Ohhh I heard you that time. Awesome.
Thinking the woman toting a caravan of children wanted to dig a big hole on the beach, I smiled down at her. Hah, I love being a lifeguard. I get to be taller than everyone.
"There aren't any rules against it, as long as you don't dig it in front of my tower..."
But Helicopter Mommy interrupted me.
"Because I just saw a documentary on KJDFLKJJHGFSDLKJDFUTYWUYGVX (or whatever fuckin' acronym they're using these days) News about a high school kid who died when the hole he was digging collapsed."
Yeah, he was probably drunk. "Well, we don't have rules against it..."
"You should." She stalked off.
Excuse me? So not only am I interrupting natural selection by even doing my job (a force of nature I believe in very strongly, in fact), but you want me to enforce a "no hole-digging" edict on the beach as well? In addition to "no dogs, no glass, no alcohol, no smoking, no sitting by the bluff, etc"? What was really disturbing about this exchange, however, wasn't that this mom was concerned for her (multitude of) children's safety, but she expected me to parent for her. Rather than saying, "Okay, cunt-dropping A, don't climb into holes, because they may collapse on you," she wants me to fill in all the holes on the beach. So am I supposed to yank people out of the water because someone might drown? No, that's ridiculous-- but it's essentially what this woman wanted me to do. And the worst part is that Helicopter Mommy is going to produce selfish, entitled little brats that take and take and take, and do nothing good in the world.
Monday, August 4, 2008
I've got sunshine...
Good news! Unlike last Monday, I am decidedly sober today. Woooo, go me.
Today was slow. But I have tomorrow off! Yay!
I'm working a lot less in the coming weeks. Which feels weird. It's actually not that much less. I'm working 32 hours this week, and 40 next week. Then I'm going to Las Vegas on the 18th and the 19th, and then for the 21st-25th I have a friend in town, so... that's 24 hours the week of the 18th, which is my normal week cut almost in half. Which means less money, but more breathing space. Breathing space before school is good, because if I didn't have it, I'd go back really burnt out and that would be a bad plan. Anyway. My day was interesting.
I told a young woman with a lip piercing today that dogs are not allowed on the beach. She looked down at the yipping punt-a-puppy in her arms, and looks back at me, and goes, "seriously?" No, fuckwit, I'm just kidding, actually. Take your fashion accessory on the beach and have fun! God, do people think I make this shit up for the fun of it? You think I want to sit in this tower and police the beach? If I wanted to be a police officer, I'd have gone through the police academy. And then I'd have a gun/tazer/big-ass stick to beat people with, which would be much better than having to talk sense into people. Also, sweetheart, your scrawny-ass, tattooed boyfriend doesn't intimidate me. I HAVE tattoos. I HAVE piercings. They really aren't that intimidating for me. In all actuality, I want to hook a leash on his septum ring and tether him to the tower. Lol. Now I'm giggling at the thought of a scrawny, tattooed, punk-rawk-super-bad-dood tethered to my tower, whinnying.
Oh man.
Today was slow. But I have tomorrow off! Yay!
I'm working a lot less in the coming weeks. Which feels weird. It's actually not that much less. I'm working 32 hours this week, and 40 next week. Then I'm going to Las Vegas on the 18th and the 19th, and then for the 21st-25th I have a friend in town, so... that's 24 hours the week of the 18th, which is my normal week cut almost in half. Which means less money, but more breathing space. Breathing space before school is good, because if I didn't have it, I'd go back really burnt out and that would be a bad plan. Anyway. My day was interesting.
I told a young woman with a lip piercing today that dogs are not allowed on the beach. She looked down at the yipping punt-a-puppy in her arms, and looks back at me, and goes, "seriously?" No, fuckwit, I'm just kidding, actually. Take your fashion accessory on the beach and have fun! God, do people think I make this shit up for the fun of it? You think I want to sit in this tower and police the beach? If I wanted to be a police officer, I'd have gone through the police academy. And then I'd have a gun/tazer/big-ass stick to beat people with, which would be much better than having to talk sense into people. Also, sweetheart, your scrawny-ass, tattooed boyfriend doesn't intimidate me. I HAVE tattoos. I HAVE piercings. They really aren't that intimidating for me. In all actuality, I want to hook a leash on his septum ring and tether him to the tower. Lol. Now I'm giggling at the thought of a scrawny, tattooed, punk-rawk-super-bad-dood tethered to my tower, whinnying.
Oh man.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
My memorial to you.
The worst part about losing someone isn't the loss itself.
We don't feel pain equally. The worst part is understanding that as much pain as you're personally feeling, those closer to the person who is gone are feeling something more intense. Something more terrifyingly all-encompassing. It's empty and it's gnawing and it never grows smaller. There's a bubble in my chest that squeezes my lungs when I think of you. You were so good. And so genuine.
I hope you weren't afraid. It's the last thing I would wish for you-- I hope you died in peace, without pain, without fear. I can't imagine you afraid. I don't want to. Because imagining you afraid makes me so aware of how cowardly I am. When I think of you I see the parts of me that should be better. I should be stronger. Run faster. Push harder. Because I can. Because this is fragile-- it's all fragile.
It was impossible not to like you. You had life by the neck and you were shaking it. You were light and color and energy. I never saw you sad. I'm trying to understand this, but intellectually, I know there's nothing to understand. It is what it is. We'll change the world for you-- no, we'll rock the world for you.
Live life.
Love life.
We miss you.
We don't feel pain equally. The worst part is understanding that as much pain as you're personally feeling, those closer to the person who is gone are feeling something more intense. Something more terrifyingly all-encompassing. It's empty and it's gnawing and it never grows smaller. There's a bubble in my chest that squeezes my lungs when I think of you. You were so good. And so genuine.
I hope you weren't afraid. It's the last thing I would wish for you-- I hope you died in peace, without pain, without fear. I can't imagine you afraid. I don't want to. Because imagining you afraid makes me so aware of how cowardly I am. When I think of you I see the parts of me that should be better. I should be stronger. Run faster. Push harder. Because I can. Because this is fragile-- it's all fragile.
It was impossible not to like you. You had life by the neck and you were shaking it. You were light and color and energy. I never saw you sad. I'm trying to understand this, but intellectually, I know there's nothing to understand. It is what it is. We'll change the world for you-- no, we'll rock the world for you.
Live life.
Love life.
We miss you.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Day off? What in the hell do I do with those?
Uhhh... so I apologize for drunk-posting on Monday. This is why I should be allowed to drink till I pass out, people. It cuts back on the drunk-posting.
Anyway.
So I realized today that days off are confusing for me because I have no idea what the hell I'm supposed to do with myself. So I spend a good portion of the day working (teaching swimming lessons), or working out. Hooray. But today, I decided I wanted to go shopping.
I'm really bad at shopping. Anyone who knows me well knows this. I am the type of person to wander into a store and wander out without really seeing anything because I am so overwhelmed by all the choices. But anyway, the mall is out in the sun, and I forgot my sunglasses in the car. People, lifeguarding has turned me into a huge creeper. I WATCH people. Not just watch, observe. And when I have sunglasses on, this is okay, because even if they think you're looking in their direction, they can't really tell, and you could be looking at anything. But without sunglasses on... I have people looking scared and running away from me.
Gah. I swear people, I'm not undressing you with my eyes, I'm just memorizing details of your outfit in case you drown. Oh wait. That's my favorite pastime at work-- memorizing people. But apparently this is creepy outside of work. Who knew?
Anyway, peace out everyone... I'm off to work... on my day off... or something...
Anyway.
So I realized today that days off are confusing for me because I have no idea what the hell I'm supposed to do with myself. So I spend a good portion of the day working (teaching swimming lessons), or working out. Hooray. But today, I decided I wanted to go shopping.
I'm really bad at shopping. Anyone who knows me well knows this. I am the type of person to wander into a store and wander out without really seeing anything because I am so overwhelmed by all the choices. But anyway, the mall is out in the sun, and I forgot my sunglasses in the car. People, lifeguarding has turned me into a huge creeper. I WATCH people. Not just watch, observe. And when I have sunglasses on, this is okay, because even if they think you're looking in their direction, they can't really tell, and you could be looking at anything. But without sunglasses on... I have people looking scared and running away from me.
Gah. I swear people, I'm not undressing you with my eyes, I'm just memorizing details of your outfit in case you drown. Oh wait. That's my favorite pastime at work-- memorizing people. But apparently this is creepy outside of work. Who knew?
Anyway, peace out everyone... I'm off to work... on my day off... or something...
Monday, July 28, 2008
Shut the fuck up, people
I am pretty sure it's Monday. I never did quite get the hang of Mondays.
Anyway, it's Monday, I think. I'm pretty drunk. I just got deposited on my front step and made an attempt at not seeming drunk in front of the parental units. I probably failed miserably.
I keep thinking I'm British but I'm nota ctually British. See, here in America, home of apple pie and buffalo (seriously though I don't think they have buffalo anywhere else) we don't do that silly thing where we spell things like this: "burnt" instead of "burned" and "spelt" instead of "spelled" and "roofs" instead of "roooves." Okay, I totally made that last one up, but the point was that my fingers seemed to be thniknig that I'm British when I'm actually Americans.
Onward and upward.
I'm drunkt (that's like the British form of "drunked" for those who aren't in the know) and we had a lifeguard get-together tonight. J tried to walk through a screen door-- or as he tells it, "I didn't walk THROUGH the closed screen door, because the screen door stopped me." Lol.
Oh man, what the hell am I doing with my life...
Fucking balls. It's Monday.
Anyway, it's Monday, I think. I'm pretty drunk. I just got deposited on my front step and made an attempt at not seeming drunk in front of the parental units. I probably failed miserably.
I keep thinking I'm British but I'm nota ctually British. See, here in America, home of apple pie and buffalo (seriously though I don't think they have buffalo anywhere else) we don't do that silly thing where we spell things like this: "burnt" instead of "burned" and "spelt" instead of "spelled" and "roofs" instead of "roooves." Okay, I totally made that last one up, but the point was that my fingers seemed to be thniknig that I'm British when I'm actually Americans.
Onward and upward.
I'm drunkt (that's like the British form of "drunked" for those who aren't in the know) and we had a lifeguard get-together tonight. J tried to walk through a screen door-- or as he tells it, "I didn't walk THROUGH the closed screen door, because the screen door stopped me." Lol.
Oh man, what the hell am I doing with my life...
Fucking balls. It's Monday.
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