To answer the question

People have been asking me what it is that I have been doing with my free time. Having the summer off while still getting a paycheck is sort of... well it doesn't happen very often. It does help that I do not have to pay rent at the place that I live, but there is a fair amount of yard work that I must do while staying there. So what becides yard work am I doing this summer? Well every now and again I go to my parents' property to chop some wood when I get bored. Other times I sit outside on the beach and read my book. I have my parents' boat out here so wakeboarding has occured. Actually just bought a new wakeboard to help me ease into summer. Had a few parties out here for other people's birthday.

And last weekend I played paintball with my roommate and some of the people that work at Paladin. It was pretty fun. This is a picture of my roommate Dave (We met playing ice hockey in college together) and I loading up for the first battle. Which we won handily. The second battle we switched teams and we still won really easily. I will admit that one time when we were on opposing sides he did shoot me, once, in the elbow, because I was not hugging my cover close enough. But that was the only time when someone actually hit me.

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This was a picture from a two on two game that we played. By far the favorite picture of both mine and Dave's.

Dave: "I am going in, cover me."

Brandon: "Got em. Move."

We won that game but for some reason Dave got bored and decided to run the length of the field. He got shot from about five feet away. He said that it seemed like a good idea at the time, and it was one of those ideas that was either going to make him look like the supreme warrior or... a Russian surf at Stalingrad when it failed feeding him to the meat grinder. I then proceded to shoot one of them right between the eyes and the other I snuck around behind him and shot him in the thigh.

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In this picture I believe that someone was shooting at me because I seem to be moving somewhat quickly. I do remember quite a few of those times though, where someone was shooting around me and I dived behind cover. All in all it was an awesome day. There was Dave and I in ripped jeans and t-shirts and then everyone else had the jerseys, guns, belts, everything you would need we were just better.

So what am I doing with my time off? Enjoying it as much as I possibly can. Uh yeah... good summer.

Evaluation day

So I had my administrator come in and evaluate me a few days ago and today we talked about what she saw. Last year she was telling me that I had a lot to learn about classroom management. Last year they came into the class that was a riot. There were just too many strong personalities in the class to keep some semblance of control. I naively thought that it would be a good idea for them to observe this class to try and help me to get some type of control. Unfortunately that was my mistake. I was "graded" badly for my poor classroom management skills. It was not that bad but I don't like any bad marks on my evaluations. Now apparently I am a good teacher with excellent classroom management skills (she came into a good class). Which does make me feel good. But ultimately it is not important what my administrator thinks about my teaching. It is only important that I feel like I am doing a good job.

But before my evaluation was the event that was a year of anticipation and training in coming. The National Tournament. I went to Las Vegas after killing myself with exercise and diet. I had lost 30 pounds off a frame that did not have 30 pounds to lose. I do know that I lost some muscle mass in there but I was glad that I did because I looked at the participants in the next weight class up and decided that they were really big. I did alright but unfortunately I did not place, I did not make it to the Olympic Trials. But here is some pictures from the tournament.

There were more pictures of my second match. Apparently my first one was over too quickly. The guy was strong. Very Strong. I was a little faster but I needed to wrestle more. Not workout more wrestle more. It is like a boxer (I am looking at you Maurice) jumping rope and punching tires to train for an upcoming fight. You might feel ready but when the action is happening you feel a little rusty.

So here I am circling my opponent waiting to attack.

I do a little head fake to make him step.

And I attack. Unfortunately the attack did not work because I was a little bit rusty and could not finish it.

Since my offense did not pan out he countered and we ended up here. The rest of the match did not go all that well. There were a few spots where I was close to getting points but he stopped me at every turn.

All in all I have no regrets about this whole journey. Because all of this was never about the destination it was really about the journey. Could I still train like I used to. I found my answers within myself, yes I was weighed, measured and found wanting, but as Amanda will find this funny the thoughts that went through my head after I was done was, "What will I do with all of my free time? Oh Calamity." I trained, worked, and dieted, now I am enjoying two different aspects of life: Eating, and relaxing. I have another 30 days before I am out for summer break (not that I am counting I just happened to have a calender next to me at my computer) where I will either spend it traveling the east coast or relaxing at the beach in the cabin where I live. Maybe go out to my front yard and get some oysters. I don't know if there will be enough time.

All Jacked Up

While normally I would feel bad about not completely preparing a week in advance for a class the last week or so I have had problems focusing on my school work. I leave to go to the national wrestling tournament on the 22nd of April and it cannot get here soon enough. I am working out most of the day, and not eating the rest of the day. I am still teaching but this week (pretty much my last before the tournament) is WASL week so the kids are unfocused anyway which helps me to lose some of my motivation... well motivation in preparing lessons, not motivation in working out. That is one area where I have never had a problem finding motivation. My personal trainer (wonderful woman) is trying to kill me and I love her for it. After I see her I go to wrestle with Danny. So that I really can get some work in. Pretty much all I can say is that I am really excited. Although my truck is a mess, which I don't like. I am also looking forward to the barbecue at my house after the tournament. Most of the friends and family are going to be coming out, it will be good to see everyone. And the food, oh the food. I know exactly where my first meal after my tournament is going to be; in the New York New York Casino in Vegas. There is a steak house in there where they have the steaks hanging outside in refrigerators, they all looked thick and juicy, so very happy. Especially with an apple, 3 power bars, a Cliff bar, and some trail mix being the only sustenance that I get today. Good times. It is all worth it though. I have cut off 15 pounds of my normal body weight, and I have been fluctuating between 155 and 145 (my weight is 145.5 pounds) on tournament weeks. I get now how to drop 10 pounds in a week. I didn't realize it in college though. While not everyone could do it, I can.

Dated a vegetarian for a few months. It didn't work out. "You are not environmental enough for me. You are a great guy but I need to know that you would change (environmentally that is) because YOU want to change not because I want you to change." Oh well, it was not that great of a relationship anyway, she was nice, as was her daughter, but we were a little different if you couldn't tell.

Started seeing another girl last week and again "so far" it is going alright. She seems to be fairly funny and laid back, just not athletic. Can't have everything though. Oh well, time will tell with this one.

I just have to remember Micky's words, "Women weaken legs," adding on my own little bit, "and ruin wrestling seasons." Well remember them for the next two weeks, after that I am on my own.

A new/old house on a beautiful day

Well as moms are want to do mine came out to help me "organize" my house, read make my house not look like I am camping in there. Luckily she brought help. Sweep monkey sweep.





But here is a picture of the view. It is really nice here on days like this.

Best part is the peace and quiet.









And then I guess we could go inside couldn't we. Here is the front / back door. As you can see I have some landscaping to do.









This will eventually be the dining room when I get a table. Right now I have a coffee table (the one that the sun is shining so brightly on) that I use to place my cereal and sandwiches on. The green couch and the green chair are quite comfortable. And Maurice just to let you know the tiki man that you got me for Christmas our Senior year is on the wall to the left of this picture. I just didn't want to take a picture of it lest some burglar checked the site and wanted it.





This is the family room that the minion is hard at work sweeping up the floor making it livable. Apparently the couches that I had in there were somewhat of an eyesore. So according to Mom they had to go. Not be thrown away mind you but moved into another room.





Apparently that room was my bedroom. So those two ugly (I don't happen to think so) pieces of furniture are now places to sit in my bedroom, although I am not too sure how much sitting I will be doing in my bedroom they are there if I need them.

There are also two back bedrooms (one with a built in bunk bed!!) that are not shown. Mainly because they are not rooms that I normally go into so I don't think about them. In the basement is all of my workout gear or as I like to call it the cauldron of pain. Thought about naming it the pit of despair but the hero dies in the pit of despair only to be resurrected by swallowing a chocolate pill the size of my two thumbs while dead. So I stepped away from that and towards the cauldron because before I moved in the basement was literally filled with 6 feet of water that was swirling around in a nice soup. Which lead to me moving in.

Almost adult happenings

Well in the past five months many things that have progressed my life a little. Although in the progression it still kind of feels similar to the past.



I moved out of my parents house. After living with them for a little over a year after graduating from college I moved out into a place on the Hood Canal.

Started dating this very environmental girl, who is a vegetarian with a kid. David is aginst her from the start. Well she didn't like my joke of in order for me to be satisfyed in a meal 3 different types of animal have to die. We will see.

Vegas

I have been pondering what to write about my trip to vegas. I think that my friend pretty much summed it up in this short easy to read five page story named after the seediest place in Vegas. Now this is not my writing this is all him. I just took the notes. In this story since it is from his perspective I am a supporting character, which is an apt description since I was supporting him the whole trip.


The Double Down.
Every once in awhile you have one of those ideas that just might get you killed… taking me to Vegas was one such idea. Honestly, here is a place where they encourage people to do things that would normally land them in jail. I found out the hard way why they call Las Vegas “Sin City.”
We drove into Vegas from San Diego and arrived in the middle of the day. Having almost died outside of Barstow when a semi truck blew out a tire in front of us, I was ready to shower and hit the strip. The excitement was overwhelming. P-Rex went straight to bed, big surprise. So Hayseed and I cleaned up after checking into the Tropicana and took the walkway across the strip to the Excalibur. There is a restaurant inside that goes by the name of Dick’s Last Resort. The waitresses there throw menus at the customers and belittle them at every turn. On the positive side, they serve forty four ounce hurricanes in to go cups. This drink tasted like rum and slurpee without the benevolence of a Middle Eastern accent serving it. One drink down and I was acting like one of my former middle school special ed students. I suddenly could not stand up straight, was walking in diagonal lines, and wanted to hug every person we passed.
Hayseed began acting as my human crutch as I ordered up a couple of beers to go and carried them out onto the strip. I noticed all of these little migrant workers holding stacks of what looked like baseball cards with nude or scantily clad women on them. They hold out a stack and make this snapping noise like pop it’s to try and make you take them. They were hooker flyers that advertise which girl you may call and for how much you can have her. Knowing my affinity for collectibles I started seeking out every stack that I could get my hands on (not to hire a hooker, this is Vegas, if you have to pay for sex here, you do not deserve a penis). We walked the entire length of the strip (stopping at various casinos so I could refill my drinks) as I stuffed them into my pockets. When we finally reached the end of the strip we crossed over and headed back up the opposite side to our hotel.
On the way back I decided that trading these new items like baseball cards would be a good idea. Every migrant we passed I would walk up to and act like I wanted a new stack of hooker flyers. When they held them out I would examine the top card and then pull a stack from my pocket…
Dave: “no, No, NO! I already have a Tawny, but I will give you two Amber’s for a Diana…”
I thought I was very amusing. One such pimp however, did not. He was yelling at a group of five girls who presumably worked for him. He was lecturing them on the unsafe habit of having sex with homeless people (I am sadly not making this up). When I tried to trade cards with him he pushed me out of his way. Apparently he does not appreciate drunk humor as much as I do… but that’s okay I always have a fall back plan. When humor fails, anger usually works. So as he shoved me away, I threw my stack of hooker flyers in his face. At this point he opened his jacket, revealing a nine millimeter side arm, and began to reach for it. I was ready to pounce when Hayseed grabbed me from behind and ran me down the crowded street away from the pimp (and I use that term in a literal sense, not meaning the guy was in any way cool). Hayseed saved yet another person’s life on this trip. I am just not sure if it was the pimp’s or mine?
After I calmed down about the gun wielding, hooker slinging pimp incident, I noticed the giant Eiffel Tower. With my anger already boiling and my known hatred for all things French, I went sprinting into the Paris, calling everybody inside “cheese eating surrender monkeys.” I took a seat at the quarter slots and started playing Wheel of Fortune. I feel in love with this game in Vegas, really just because Vana White is hot. The first rule of drinking in Vegas is that all drinks are free so long as you are playing a game on the floor. If not, then a bottle of domestic beer costs around seven dollars at the bar. Slots are the cheapest game to play on the floor, so you can sit there, put in a dollar… and only press the button when the waitress comes by; unfortunately I did not have this much self control. So I began drinking Vodka Red Bulls all night. The cocktail waitress couldn’t bring them to me fast enough, as I shot quarter after quarter into the slot machine. Hayseed was next to me trying to keep me from starting a new war with France, as I kept telling him that the Boy Scouts could take France by themselves. The lady on my other side kept acting offended by my presence (or perhaps my inability at this point to control the sound of my voice).
At any rate this just challenges me and I keep screaming “WINNER!!!” into her ear, even when I lost. At least until she finally stood up, told me that I broke her ear drum and began to walk away. I just laughed and screamed “Winner!” again as she walked away. I hope she reads this book, because lady; this is Las Vegas. Do you really think that you were going to come here and get a nice quiet relaxing night in the casino? If so, you’re a fucking moron! They made this place for people like me; they made Miami Dade County for retirees… I mean people like you. Once the ear drum lady left I lost interest in the slot machines and decided that the poker room might be more my speed. At least the waitresses there might bring me drinks faster. For some reason I figured that the speed of my drink arrivals was in direct relation to the amount of money I spent at each casino game. This is untrue. At this point they should have just plugged an I.V. into my arm and let the vodka seep in at a more natural rate.
Let me tell you that Texas Hold ‘Em looks so much easier on television. I was kind of angry that they didn’t show me the percentage odds and my opponents hand while I played. At any rate the drinks weren’t coming any faster than they were at the slots so I decided to just wander around and see how many people I could offend before being asked to leave. I was cussing at dealers, calling waitresses sweet ass and generally acting like the biggest dick I could. Somewhere around four in the morning I finally hit the wall and the next thing I remember is waking up back in my hotel room when P-Rex came crashing in (beer in hand) proclaiming that he had lost two hundred dollars unfairly before passing out on the floor. Hayseed decided that he was going to check out the sexual circus show this night and I declined attending with him. The tickets were a hundred bucks a piece, and I hate crazy French circus freaks, even if there are naked breasts on them. So P-Rex and I decided to see how drunk we could get before Hayseed met up with us later that night.
I was drinking and flirting with two older Scottish women at the Bellagio who seemed to find me fascinating when Hayseed arrived. We said good bye to my new friends, collected P-Rex and decided that the club in the Venetian might be our best bet for women tonight. I was double fisting walking down the strip when I saw it. The neon lights and beach music just called out to me a like a light house to a lost ship. I wandered into Margaritaville in a haze of delight and wonder. We found a table, ordered up two ultimate margaritas and scanned the premises for talent. Talent is code speak for good looking women with negotiable moral standards. I would normally never intake tequila under any circumstances, but you cannot (by man law) order any other drink in Margaritaville without having a margarita first. I actually held down that devil juice, with the aid of lots of water, for the first time in eight years. Normally I will vomit at the slightest smell of tequila, so I was now very proud of myself; as well as wondering how much more I could ingest without vomiting.
I was in the middle of challenging Hayseed to conduct the introductions on a table of three girls we had spotted when I was rudely interrupted. Some homeless man sat down and bluntly asked for five dollars so he could “get his drink on.” I was impressed by his honesty so I bought the man a beer and wished him luck with getting drunk. Hayseed had lost an earlier man bet and was required to be our intro man with the girls. You see, to strike at a group of girls everybody has to play their position. In this case, you send an Introduction Guy to break the ice and get the girls talking. He is to be immediately followed by the Point Man. This is your focus guy; he plays the center of attention and keeps the evening progressing. The Point Man is your best salesman. Then you must have the traditional Wingman; the guy who keeps the mother hen busy during the evening. The wingman plays the worst position during the night, but his drinks are always courtesy of his buddies.
These three girls were of the traditional composition. There was the quiet shy cute friend; the outgoing good looking crazy friend; and the cock blocking mother hen. Why is the mother hen always the fat ugly one? So Hayseed breaks the ice with his usual charm, which is why I immediately step in to help out. By default the intro man gets first crack at the crazy outgoing girl. He is the one taking the largest risk for rejection and leading the way into the situation like a ranger in combat. This was fine with me since I wanted to meet the cute blonde shy girl anyways. Having first shot at the crazy out going girl is priority one because she is usually the most likely to put out. I wish I could phrase it differently but it is just a matter of bar fact. She usually drinks the most, is more willing to try crazy things and will go along with most of your plans during the night. Unfortunately for P-Rex this leaves him in the cold with the mother hen. The bonus to playing low man on the roster is that his drinks are free for the night. On the other side, his friends were paying for the entire trip, so perhaps it was his responsibility as a man to play that role anyways.
I introduced myself, took a chair and was immediately asked what I do for a living. I told them that I was working on this book when the quiet shy girl (we shall call her Bones) blurts out…
Bones: “you’re an asshole!”
I informed them that she was correct and then started to lay on the charm. Remember the adorable asshole routine we discussed earlier? This is where that pays off in dividends. I have already shocked them and now was the time for the turn. I began discussing the difference between emotional love and rational love with them. All the while smiling and flirting with Bones. By the time we hit the dance floor for the first time, they were unaware of what had hit them. We were holding each other like the night would never end, her head laying on my shoulder, and genuinely enjoying each other for the evening. Hayseed was dancing and putting the moves on Reba (the crazy friend), while P-Rex struggled to play his part with the hen pecking cock blocking cluck. We walked the girls back to our hotel, put them in a cab and made plans to meet up the next evening.
We had visited O’Sheas earlier in the day walking down the strip. I was drinking thirty two ounce beer bottles and complaining about the triple digit heat. Hayseed was commenting on how intelligent massive intake of alcohol is in this kind of heat when I heard the Irish tunes. I went flying into the little casino to be greeted by a stripping midget dressed as a leprechaun on the bar. He was free pouring a bottle of tequila into a twenty one year old girl’s mouth with one hand. His other hand was removing his leprechaun outfit as he danced in front of her. Only in Las Vegas. But while we took pictures of this event the loud speaker came from overhead like the voice of God.
Announcer: “the beer pong tournament will begin in five minutes in the beer pong room.”
They now had my complete and undivided attention. A beer pong tournament… here? We decided that we would meet the girls here and play a round or two with them. Beer pong is a college classic that is sure to get any evening kicked off in the right direction. I had only brought one collared shirt on this trip, the same one I had worn the evening before. Lucky for me, I am so amazing that I can impress a girl in the same clothes from the night before. The girls finally arrived, but were invited to play at various tables with other groups of guys. Normally I would never allow this to happen, but I figured we were in Vegas… if these girls didn’t work out, there would surely be more waiting at the next location. Fortunately for us, Reba brought her brother who worked in town. Reba and Koch were playing a group of douche bag frat boy posers when we joined them.
After three rounds of shit talking to these guys the competitive juices started flowing. Reba was so brutal on them that they literally appeared to be on the brink of tears. They started throwing the ping pong balls at her instead of rolling them back. One frat guy was telling her to shut the fuck up or he was going to kick all of our asses. Hayseed and I were getting ready to throw down Chuck Norris style when the other members of our group informed us that they were leaving. Bones had been a little distant with me, and I was assuming that we were not invited to join them. Hayseed went to use the restroom while I walked her out to say good night. Lucky for me, my first impression was incorrect and she invited us to join them. They were heading to an off strip bar that Koch recommended after they made one stop along the way. I got the name of the bar, ordered two beers to go and hailed a cab.
I should warn any of you who are planning on going party in Las Vegas. The strip is great and there is more to do there than you can possibly imagine. But if you are given the opportunity to travel off strip, DON’T DO IT! I was paying for our ride when Hayseed stepped out of the cab. A girl on the crowded side walk raised her shirt over her exposed chest and screamed at him…
Girl at Double Down: “of course they’re real! Fake ones don’t bounce like this!”
He was still in shock when I joined him on the side walk. The girls had not yet arrived, but my beer supply was now running low. We decided to go inside so I could order up a new round. The bouncer checked our IDs and then curiously inquired as to whether or not we really desired entrance into this particular establishment. I informed him that I am David Kalua and continued into the bar. I was immediately stunned. I was drinking the last of my beer and listing the scene inside to myself.
1. Everybody in here except Hayseed and I are wearing black.
2. There are five ghostly figures painted on the red and black walls that appear to be naked female souls.
3. There are no knobs on the bathroom doors, only open holes where they used to be.
4. The pool tables are pushed against the wall in the corner of the room… there are no pool ques.
5. There is a large hand painted sign over the bar reading “Home of the Bacon Martini”
I was only slightly annoyed by the low rent version of a metal band whose music sounded more like a dying cat than anything else. When the girls finally arrived I was on my fourth round in the Double Down alone. They immediately went to the restroom (because they are braver than I am) and Hayseed came up to me asking what we should do when the people around realize we are there. I told him to get his back to a hard surface and just fight dirty. The girls returned telling us of how they were joined in the one toilet restroom by some strange girl who just pushed her way to the seat and started chatting them up while she went. I was very entertained by this place. Sadly, I seemed to be the only one. Koch was standing at the bar telling me how I had better watch myself with these girls every time I ordered a drink. The girls were sitting at the table with Hayseed trying not to touch anything… and Hayseed was waiting for the ass kicking he was positive would soon begin.
The girls soon finished their first and only round, stood up and requested that we escort them to their vehicle. We said good bye to them in the parking lot, without so much as a good bye kiss and decided that this night was not yet over. Hayseed turned to me with a look of great concern on his face and watched as I drank my beer and smiled. As I finished his look turned to fear and then disgust…
Hayseed: “We are going back in there aren’t we?”
I just chuckled to let him know that he was indeed correct in his assumption. As I strutted back into the bar room, he was mumbling something about my lack of fear of humans being troublesome. Hayseed decided that he now was in need of relief. As he headed to the bathroom, I ordered up a bacon martini. I figured that if they took the time to hand paint a sign for this drink, then I should be polite enough to try one. I have always been a huge fan of breakfast beers, but let me just say that breakfast foods and alcohol should never be mixed in the same glass. Upon hearing my order, the bartender asks if I would like to purchase vomit insurance with my drink. He has now piqued my interest so I naturally inquire further about this “Vomit Insurance.” I am told that for only $20 plus my drink that I may hurl all over the bar and destroy property at no further personal expense. Were I to decline this olive branch from him, then three rather large bouncers would hold me physically and financially responsible for my actions.
With the gauntlet thrown down, I decided to purchase said vomit insurance (the reason I keep mentioning it is simply that I am still in shock that such a policy is in existence) and two bacon martinis instead of the one. Never challenge me. It is here that I should clarify of what exactly the bacon martini consists. They take a few strips of cooked bacon and line the bottom of a martini glass with said bacon. They then pour a vodka martini over the contents of the glass and drop in your olives. At this point the fatty grease from the bacon rises to the top of the cup in a form of skin for the drink. As you can imagine… I was very happy that I decided to purchase the insurance. I put my bud lights in my back pockets, picked up the two glasses (the bonus to having a sober friend all of the time is that I can always order drinks for two and never look suspicious) and asked which way to the pool tables.
Determined to get twenty dollars worth from my insurance, I slammed both drinks and power hurled the entire contents (thirteen hours of non-stop drinking) of my stomach. When I stepped back to observe, it was seeping into the felt on the pool tables, dripping into the pockets and spilling over onto the floor. I was still laughing when Hayseed returned from the restroom, but I just wiped my face, pulled my beers from my back pockets and told him that we had better leave. On the way out I tipped the bartender and thanked him for his guidance. When we hit the streets the sad reality of being off strip in a bad neighborhood hit Hayseed… for all of ten seconds. The lights of the Hard Rock Café shown to us like a beacon in the night. He immediately hit the craps table and I asked him to order me drinks. The only thing better than having a sober friend so you can order multiple rounds at once is having a sober friend playing a table game in Vegas. He can order free drinks from the cocktail waitress for you.
I went wandering around the hallways in search of a restroom… I had been too afraid to use the one at the Double Down. After I had finally found one worthy of my evacuation, I washed up and headed back out to the casino floor. Immediately upon stepping back into the hallway I passed a really cute little Polynesian girl. We smiled at each other and she immediately turned around and came back towards me. I was mentally patting myself on the back as she told me that I had gorgeous eyes. I agreed with her we began a conversation as she escorted me back to find Hayseed. I was about to start really hitting on her when I had a realization. Here is a dressed up beautiful woman alone in a casino at four in the morning. Gee, I wonder what she does for a living? When I asked her about her chosen profession she was honest and told me that she was an escort. I apologized and told her that I would be disinclined to buy her a drink for her company… there is no way in hell that I will pay for sex.
When hooker #1 finally left I found Hayseed conversing with a rather large fellow at the bar. He had a small collection of adult beverages waiting for me, so I just chimed right in to their discussion. As it turned out he was a professional rugby player from New Zealand who was buying drinks for the entire floor. Distracted by his drink offers, I didn’t notice the attractive blonde with Rugby right away. She seemed bored so I began making small talk with her. Through leading questions I learned that she had just met Rugby tonight and was hanging around because he was kind of funny and willing to buy her drinks. Again I had that stinging feeling, a spider sense of sorts that detects possible call girls in my immediate vicinity. I inquired as to whether or not she was a prostitute. With a sense of disgust she informed me that she was not a hooker (had my radar failed?). Then with a hint of self pride she told me that she was in fact a stripper (good; radar operative). This leaves only one question left to be answered; was she on duty or off? She was off.
Seeing as they were not together we started flirting a little while Hayseed kept the larger gentleman distracted. Every once in awhile he would come back to us, ask if we wanted drinks and then return to his conversation, too drunk now to remember to bring us said drinks. Normally this would insult me, but his funny accent and cute stripper acquaintance were enough to keep me entertained. During the conversation I asked Stripper where we should go for our last night in Vegas. This evening was supposed to be our final night here, but I was having too much fun to leave. She began telling tales of a fantasy land of ultra exclusive night clubs and immoral women. The catch was that we would have to know people to gain admittance. I informed her that I am indeed David Kalua; however, we have no people in Vegas. This may have been the first realization that I could indeed be much more awesome than I am now.
She offered up her services to us for the next evening (the social kind, not the naked kind). I told her that I would be happy to see her the next evening, but I did not have a phone number to contact her.
Stripper: “That was your queue to ask for it dumbass…”
At this point I just told her that I am sometimes not too bright. When it comes to spitting game I am not accustomed to having women so blatantly throw it back in my face… to say the least I was impressed. We exchanged numbers and said goodnight. The desk clerk was a cute little Asian girl, but she was unwilling to negotiate a free room for us… so we just walked into the desert morning. As I began to look for cabs a black Escalade pulled up with two women in the front seats. My hooker radar was back up and running. Hooker #2 and #3 were more willing to negotiate than the desk clerk so I decided to entertain myself for a little while…
Hooker #2: “where are you guys heading?”
Dave: “The Tropicana.”
Hooker #3: “what are you going to do when you get there?”
Dave: “we haven’t decided yet.”
Hooker #2: “you guys want to party?”
Dave: “We might.”

You see, they are trying to get me to pay for sex. I do not pay for sex and I never will. Good looking people never have to pay for sex, it would be like slapping God in the face. He gave us this gift of attraction. Ugly people get the gift of prostitution. Anyways, all I really wanted was a free ride home so I could pass out. I had drank more than Mel Gibson before his apology to the Jewish faith.
Dave: “I tell you what… why don’t you give us a ride and we will negotiate partying on the way.”
Hooker#2: “why don’t we negotiate partying now? Then we will give you a ride.”
*I think she was onto my “free ride” plan at this point. Anyhow I am too drunk to argue and too bored to care. Take notes gentlemen… a cab ride is always cheaper than a woman.

The cabby dropped us off at the Hooter’s Casino on our way back home. Rather I screamed “STOP” in the middle of the road, jumped out of the cab and sprinted inside. Hayseed paid the man and quickly followed me. I guess the cabby wasn’t too happy with me. Oh well, he drives in Vegas… I am positive he is used to drunk people at 5:30 in the morning. At any rate, Hayseed made an incredible run at the craps table here, while I don’t even remember losing the last $100 in cash that I was carrying. We charged the room for one more night when I returned at 7:30am. I had been politely asked to leave the Hooter’s Casino for screaming out random profanity at the poker table. I had decided that the dealer was in on cheating me when one gal won 24 straight called hands in a row. That is an amazing feat in poker, even for a pro. When she river turned quads for the second time in twenty minutes I just decided to pretend that I had tourettes. They were unamused.
*We had been up and drinking for almost twenty four hours straight. God bless Sin City.





Now mind you that this is not my writing. I am just a player in the game.

Road trip

The thought process went like this. I do not want to sit at home all summer. I want to go somewhere, but where? Hey Dave let's go on a road trip. Okay just let me finish up with school Brandon. Uh no Dave we leave in four days. Well I guess the end of the quarter is on Friday and you want to leave on Tuesday. But I think that we need a third person. Someone that will instigate things... Done.


So the crew is set the date is locked down the plans up in the air. What car are we going to take? We could rent a car ($400). Brooke- You could just take my car. Brandon- Sweet. I'll put a CD player in it tomorrow. Brooke- And it has 4 x 70 air conditioning. Meaning all four windows rolled down going seventy miles an hour down the road type of air conditioning.

Okay so the plan. Head to Oceanside, surf, visit, enjoy California, then make plans to go to the Grand Canyon and stay in Vegas. If there is time go see Mt. Rushmore but only if there is time.

Here we are on the road driving down towards the coast. It was really a beautiful drive.









Here is a beach that we stopped at to stretch our legs among other things. Nice little town.
I will say one thing about our drive. There are really some nice spots to stop in and rest.


I am not too sure what this place was when I took the picture but I was scrambling for my camera when I saw it. This place was just amazing. The rocky cliffs, the sunset, the ocean, just amazing.











Sunsetting over the ocean on the first day of travel. We drove for another six hours after this. Stopping for the night in a Home Depot parking lot because we didn't want to pay as much as they were asking for a tent site at the KOA outside of town. I slept fine but the other two were not exactly having the most restful of nights. So we only stayed in the parking lot for three hours before going to Denny's at five thirty in the morning. You can only imagine how everyone felt. It was good times.






The sun rises in California. Here we are exhausted yet full, Denny's was good to us. They also provided a "shower" facility. Well they had a sink in the bathroom which made due. Yesterday I spent 18 hours on the road and drove about 1000 miles.













We spent the night in Crescent City. And I took a picture of this because I liked the name of the town we were headed towards.















In the middle of the Redwood forest we turn the corner and one of the guys starts loosing his mind. "Oh my god, oh my god pull over, pull over." In the middle of nowhere, well the pictures explain it all.
















Okay being a teacher this is one of the coolest school related things that I have ever seen. I mean can you imagine how much attendance would shoot up if this is what they road to school?

This is where I will end this. Mainly because this is where the trip went horribly wrong. We took highway one, and although beautiful it takes an extra 5 hours to go the same distance. We darn near wore out the breaks on Brooke's car because of all of the hairpin turns. It was an adventure though.

The Odyssey

It will be an Odyssey, only this will not take quite as long, be near as life threatening, and I will not have to come home and defend my wife from potential suitors. But it will be a journey of epic proportions.

San Francisco, Santa Barbra, San Diego, the Grand Canyon, Las Vegas, Lake Tahoe, Reno, in two weeks. It should be interesting. I am going to have to be on top of my not going to jail game because the guys that I am going with... well... could potentially be trouble, but the good kind of trouble. Not that there is a bad kind of trouble on a trip like this. But I would rather not call Brooke and have her fly down there to bail us out.

But what a way to start my 25th year. I only wish that David and Maurice could go, but, they have other responsibilities that they are attending to. Maybe some time when we are old and have boys of our own we will go cross country on a journey to help them into manhood. Just a thought though.

Wow twenty five. I guess I am supposed to be responsible by now. I think that for the most part I am responsible but I still think of myself as the kid. I mean I still want to play games like dodgeball, kickball, football, just for fun with the people around me. Currently there are only about two that would play, which makes for a boring game of anything. Who knows maybe I will get a girlfriend that doesn't throw like Brittany and does throw like Brooke, because the last, well all of them threw like Brittany. Honestly when I was a kid I thought that I would be married and had my three kids by now, like my parents did. Now being twenty-five I am amazed at what they did. Because while yes I probably could take care of them right now it would be tough, and I would have to give up quite a few things to make the ends meet. Or to make sure that we had meat.

Would the little kid like the person I am now? For the most part yes, two things no, but everything else would be alright.

Well at least someone is learning

It is day two of senior finals. Much to my disappointment the students are not quite doing as well as I thought that they would have. Many of them are "punting", or giving up without trying. And according to the district policy I have to give them the opportunity for a retake. Although I don't know exactly when that would be... Eight days left and all I have heard is complaining. This test is too hard. Now I did give them a study packet with 100 problems on it and then I chose 25 problems from that to be on the final. I even let them use notes on the final. However I do not feel they put forth the effort that I had hoped that they would in studying the packet. My geometry class I gave them a smaller practice packet but it had similar results. They had seen the problems before however, they apparently had only seen them.

I think that I have to scrap the lessons that I was going to do at the end of the year in order to fix this little mistake. I guess teaching is just a trial and error sort of thing.

Oh it might not help that the tests were a little long.

But something that has gone right, I taught David how to change his oil. Always fun doing things to cars. Even if that is the extent of your automobile knowledge. Before we started we had a brief rest at a pub for dinner, David agreed after I told him that changing a car's oil while the engine is hot is not quite as much fun as it sounds.

Me- First things first we have to put the pan in the way to not ruin the environment. Which would damage your future political career. And then unscrew the screw. OK now crawl under there and torque on that thing.

David- It is too tight I can't get it.

Me- OK move over, man, lawyers never do any work. GrrrRRRAAAAHHHH. OK it's loose.

David- OK it is draining. I got some oil on my hand.

Me- And? Wipe it off. I think that you will make it. Just don't wave your hand over a candle. That, while hilarious, would be bad.

Me- OK David that thing that is sticking out right there is your oil filter.

David- This?

Me- Yep, OK now wrap shop towels around it and unscrew it. Alright now that it is off take a little oil and rub it around the ring of the new filter. Then screw it on. Just like that. Put the screw back in and then dump some oil down the hole and we are done.

Then we just survey all that is man. Dirt, grime, and facial hair.

You can tell by how clean my shirt is that I don't like to get a dirty.

And here is one for posterity.

Also that weekend I was a prom chaperone. Which was interesting. Nothing much happened but it was funny to watch the dance floor clear out during a rock song and then refill during a rap song. It was a little weird watching some of my students grind on one another but hey my job was only to make sure that they didn't get drunk or pregnant between the hours of 9 and 1. Before and after that is their parent's concern.

Left behind

As with any decision the decision about where to teach next year has it's own positives and negatives. Reasons to go, I get to go and spend time with Brooke, go and train for the Olympics in a harsh environment, get out on my own, make more money, travel, and there is that possibility of the girl. Reasons to stay, only the possibility of the girl, moving fifteen hundred miles for a year or so, only knowing one person, moving away from family, leaving the wrestling team, saving money to buy a house, miss hanging out with David. The missing of family is implied of course.

"Don't let the women on either side sway your decision."

That being said Alaska sounds pretty good. However I must make an adult decision. I cannot go up there without a job waiting for me. A job that is at least on level with the job that I have currently. I will not go up there unless I have an apartment that is affordable and within walking distance to the school that I am teaching at. I want to save as much money as possible. If all of those things happened then yeah I probably would go, at least for a year, just to see how it worked out.

I guess the question that I have to ask myself is, "Would I go if she was not there?" Yeah, given the same set of parameters, I probably would go.

I guess I will wait and see.