Brent pokes at Pier Park

I'm meeting my "writing quota" for the day with all of this.

I considered writing a rant about Pier Park as a piece for the News Herald, granted they'd publish it. But alas, no such effort was made until now and I'm back in Orlando. That's right, I'm back (for whomever it may concern). There's no particular event that occurred in Panama City Beach that I'd like to discuss or dwell on. Conversely, there's nothing I expected to happen that didn't happen, mostly because I've come to know what to expect.

This isn't my "stake in the heart" towards PCB. This isn't a "my brain is bigger than yours" or "my city is better than yours" rant. The reality is that PCB is my hometown no matter how you twist it, and it's where I grew up. And thus there is an inevitable love-hate relationship between us.

Speaking of love-hate relationships, let's talk get down to business. Pier Park.

I (once again, inevitably) spent a good chunk of my time during my break at Pier Park. It's nice to have a place to go and simply walk around (awkwardly running into people) and enjoy the weather. It's truly impressive to see Pier Park come to fruition and become what it was meant to be.

That being said, why does it feel like everyone there is staring holes through you? What generates the hostility that oozes off of any given passer-by? I suppose that Pier Park isn't the ideal stomping ground for the lone, white American introvert. I was hard-pressed to find someone who didn't look like their intention for the night was to look like they were among the most important group in the city.

Borders was my saving grace, naturally. A bookstore/coffeehouse combination is ideal for your typical reading/writing type. But even then there were droves of people with their proverbial noses in the air, ordering their lattes and gossiping their lives away. Hell, even your token redneck has become victim of the latte plague. They sort of just sit around, awkwardly watching others around them making sure they're getting their sipping patterns just right. Sorry, I'm just not a latte person. I'll take the classic stuff any day. It's cheaper, too.

So why didn't I just send my time doing something else? Because nowadays if you're not at Pier Park you're either working or getting drunk. That's a joke, folks. Well, sort of. Pier Park is what it is, and it's not going to change for me. It's serving its purpose.

It seems like this rant is asking for trouble or a rebuttal. But really, I'm not complaining. I had fun during my break, actually. More fun than I expected.

But there's nothing quite like coming home to a city that has a Wal-Mart with more than one open line and delicious Jimmy Johns' sandwiches.

I gave up

I gave up on NaNoWrimo. I wrote about 2,400 words in the first day and it pretty much bottomed out from there. Better than nothing. Between the election, sickness, and school, well, it was just too much.

I want to try to update this more regularly. I've been trying to keep up the blog on Myspace which and that hasn't flown so well either.

In academic news, I've finally encountered Paradise Lost. It was something that had to happen eventually, like some sort of big awkward meeting that you want to avoid. It's pretty interesting stuff, but I must admit I've had much more than my regular dose of poetry and plays this semester. Maybe the "older" stuff will grow on me, but I'm still wary of it at this point. Right now I'm just anxious to get take some classes that truly delve into the 20th century. Getting to (re)read Ender's Game (for a class, nonetheless) is like a prayer answered. Man cannot live on Milton/Shakespeare/Chaucer/Wordsworth/Keats/Tennyson/Wilde alone!

Actually, many of my peers would probably argue that last point.

I need to pump out some new short stories but the end of the month. It might be my shining moment of publication. Yes, it's by the UCF literary journal. But that's better than nothing, dammit.