So I am in Pensacola. I've actually been here a couple of months, since I arrived here on December 18th of last year. I was confident, hopeful, and ready to begin Flight School...just as soon as I got back from Christmas leave. I was sad to leave Washington, DC, for I had found good friends there and fallen in love with the city itself. Yet the white beaches, the warm weather, and the prospect of flying made Pensacola seem like a paradise in comparison. And to top it off, I was to be living with my college room-mate. My future promised good things.
I wasn't disappointed. With a few exceptions (like today), the weather has been sunny and warm, and about once every two weeks it gets to beach-going weather for several days (consider it's the middle of winter). I drive around mostly with all my windows down, I grill my dinner on a barbecue most nights, I have a balcony that faces the sunset for evening drinks, if I like.
Yet Pensacola is in an area of Florida called "Southern Alabama." Indeed, it is directly below Alabama. And it feels very much like the deep south. The majority of buildings sprawled outside the small (pretty) urban center are ramshackle and ugly. The roads are in poor condition, and consist mostly of two-lane highways that wander aimlessly. Traffic lights are incomprehensible and long, and freeways are hidden away in inconvenient locations. Besides, they don't seem to head anywhere important. Consequently, it takes about three minutes to travel one mile of distance to your destination. I live about ten miles from downtown Pensacola, which is to say at least 30 minutes away.
I was also surprised to discover that I could not begin Flight School for medical reasons. A condition I was diagnosed with as a child popped up on my initial screening which needed to be waived before I could be medically cleared. I had received a waiver before, when I joined the military in the first place, but flight surgeons have their own rules. So I was put on indefinite hold pending the result of my waiver application. Life in this situation wasn't bad, since I had no work to do. On most days, my only requirement was to call into my Command in the morning and tell them (literally) that I was alive, whereupon I was free until the next morning. Every Monday I had to physically muster at 0800, and once I stood Duty. But the bottom line is that I didn't know whether or not I could stay here in Flight School. And I did very much want to stay.
Since I was unsure of my position, I wanted to wait before I settled in. I tried reading books during the day, distracted myself with video games, developed a daily exercise regime, and even took up ballroom dancing. This last one is perhaps the most entertaining, though I am still a beginner. But yesterday I received my waiver and today I was medically cleared for Flight, so I can bid farewell to idleness and join the working world again. I do not begin classes until next Friday, so I have a little over a week to finish buying my furniture and study materials, get in shape for the PT tests, and finish the books I have started. By all accounts flight school is quite rigorous.
So there is my story! I will try to be somewhat regular, but I doubt training here will be as interesting as TBS. Though springtime is on the way, and as the weather promises to get much hotter I shall be recreating more and more at the beach, located about 10 minutes away. So wish me luck!
