Children, this post is not for the thin skinned...the problems have outgrown the pastels. I have toned down the apartment with slipcovers and my edgy and progressive artwork. I did however breakdown and purchase a palm tree today with visions of a Christmas card featuring me in a Santa hat in front of it in my head. Anyhow, I have masked the Golden Girl-esqueness of my bachelorette pad as much as humanly possible. Now that I have worked my magic on my home office I have started to explore my new home town. And low and behold I have discovered a few "issues" that I have, which will be listed below.
1. People from the South claim Florida is not the South, although its as far down as you can go... I was rudely alerted to this fact while innocently ordering a sweet tea in Charleston and mentioned I had recently moved. In my mind all this means is that we get the hicks without the Southern charm.... how pleasant for Northerners. If I am going to move my butt down here from Connecticut I think I deserve a little door holding, a few "Ladies firsts", and some friendly banter.
2. The DMV or RMV as it is known elswhere in the country and most likely world is labeled here as"Drivers Licenses" and at my "Drivers Licenses" hut the sign is painted onto a piece of corrugated carboard.
3. The govener that slated to win this year's election is endorsed by the NRA... this fact apparently accounts for a large portion of his popularity with the people.
4. Everyone says that there is a slower lifestyle here and I am forced to ponder why this is a positive. Is it so we can enjoy the 200% humidity even longer?
5. 71 year olds apparently go to the same bars as 20 somethings. Not charming Mr. Rogers types that are hard of hearing and attend potlucks... you don't even want to know.
6. There are no laws stating you can't carry a concealed weapon, drive a motorcylcle sans helmet, talk on a cell phone while driving, or smoke in a bar...but there is a law making it clear you cannot have an alligator on your property.
7. I have yet to find a homosexual or an asian, this limits my friend pool quite dramatically. This also limits my dining options. There are actually restaurants here called "Thai Sushi"... this frightens me.
8. I have yet to find a hippie. I have heard there is such a breed as a beach bum, which is quite similar, however there is narry a beach bum nor hippie in sight. This means that the only "farmer's market" in sight is actually a government high rise.
So there you have it folks, all of my friends have apparently been shot by the govenor. I am hungry, hot, and without fresh produce. This photograph that I was fortunate enough to capture while driving (hey no law is stopping me) says it all. Not surprisingly people can smell my Northern roots a mile away and I get the old " You aren't from around here are you?" line frequently. Well y'all, lets face it, I am most definitely not from around these here parts and so far thats alright with me.
No comments:
Post a Comment