Florida in a nutshell

As of yesterday, I have been in Florida for 3 months. It's been quite an interesting period for me. The first month was spent half in a haze of depression/loneliness and half in a state of excitement. Tiny lizards? Awesome! Sunshine? Awesome! Booze sold everywhere? Double awesome! Since then I've kind of settled into "Florida life", although the novelty as not fully worn off yet.

But I digress, what I really wanted to talk about are the types of people I have observed while living here. I've come to the conclusion that there are three categories the residents of my area can be grouped into:

1. Mid-life crisis transplants
Mid-life crisis transplants probably hold the biggest market of the population. No matter where you live, chances are you've encountered them. These are the 40-50 somethings who commonly move to Florida to "start over" after a recent divorce, retirement, drug addiction, or run-in with the law. If you ask them why they chose to do so, however, you will probably get the ever-popular response of "To get away from the cold" as the majority are from the North. With their children all grown, these men and women are usually experiencing their second childhood in the most stereotypical of ways. You can typically find them at bars playing pool, trying to get laid, and laughing way too hard at dirty jokes. But they also waste their days away on beaches, attending rock concerts, buying knick-knacks at flea markets, and driving around in convertibles. They're likely to be afraid of commitment (an after-effect of their failed marriages) yet they're also just as likely to wed a stranger during a trip to Vegas.

Almost every single person I've met that fits into this category adores the state of Florida and couldn't imagine moving. My own mother is a prime example of this.

My mom (Mommadukington the 3rd, if we're going to be formal about it) moved down here about 2 years ago and had been begging me to do so since day one. Everyday in the winter she would call me and ask how the weather was. If I responded with anything other than "It's warm and beautiful! There are children playing and birds chirping! A butterfly is emerging from it's cocoon!" she'd quip "Well, if you came to Florida you'd never have to deal with the snow again!" It became so annoying that I started telling her it was nice out during blizzards. When introducing me to her friends, she'll say something like "This is my daughter, she just moved here from Philly. It only took me two years to get her down here!" Cue laugh-track.

In the time that she lived here and I did not, she would occasionally send me gifts. She sent me magnets with my name on them below dolphins, t-shirts (and one belly shirt) with pictures of kittens and "FLORIDA" in big print on them, a glass bowl with a bag of green sand and the handwritten instructions "POUR SAND IN BOWL. STICK INSECTS IN." She meant incense, of course, but Mommadukes' spelling has never been her strong point. My favorite gift, however, was a music box with figurine penguins playing amongst a seashell background. There was a light you could switch on and it would change colors as the music played. I remember staring at it and thinking "This is very pretty, but why are the penguins in a seashell? Don't they know they are arctic creatures?"

2. Young adults and teenagers who hate Florida
This group is constructed of both natives to the state and transplants alike. With the natives you get the usual "I wanna get outta this town and see the world!" attitude that you'll really get anywhere while the transplants are wistful for their lives before they were towed along here by their parents. The reasons for the dislike are pretty varied; it's too hot, the governor sucks, there's too many bugs/snakes/alligators, the humidity messes with your hair, there's nothing to do.

The last reason "there's nothing to do" is one I would like to focus on. I live in an area where the older crowd and young children heavily outweigh my age group. There are plenty of bars and such, good ones, too, but there aren't many where the general customer base isn't over 40, maybe 35 if I'm being generous. I'm sure this is different in other areas like Miami, for example, but where I live seeing someone in their 20's outside of the fast food joint they work at is pretty rare. The first official day I spent in Florida as a resident, I went to buy a pack of cigarettes at a nearby gas station. When I presented my ID, the attendant looked at me with some suspicion (Yeah, yeah. I look like a 13 year old boy, I get it already!) and asked what part of PA I was from. After explaining I had just moved from Philadelphia to go to school she replied "Oh, you're going to hate it here. There's no young people. No, really. You're going to hate it." Welcome to Florida! The worst part of this story is I was actually in St. Petersburg at the time, which is a significantly "younger" city than where I'm living now.

Admittedly, I don't mind the age difference too much. I like the older crowd. They're fun and always willing to pay for your drinks. I do sometimes long for the dance clubs and binge drinking that comes with having companions my age, though.

While seeing young people is somewhat uncommon, the bulk of them fit into this category. Most of the natives have either never left the state or were forced back to it by necessity and are very resentful for it. Both the natives and transplants are generally more liberal than the majority of residents in the area (an older population usually translates into a more conservative population) and they're pretty resentful about that, too.

Besides what I've actually witnessed, I've come up with my own theory to why transplant teens and 20 somethings may hate Florida: They're tired of watching their mid-life crisis parents grind on anything with a heartbeat. It's gross to watch your mom get low.

3. Proud natives
Proud natives are simultaneously my favorite and least favorite people in Florida. They are some of the nicest and most polite people you will ever meet. And they will always make sure to draw attention to this fact. These are the people who always hold doors, start friendly conversations with strangers, say "please" and "thank you", and are more than willing to do a favor for just about anybody. They also have the tendency to harp on how rude Northerners are which, to do so unwarranted to someone who is from the North, I think is pretty rude in itself. They feel an overwhelming amount of pride from being born in a state that people from other parts of the US flock to and will gladly tell you any bit of Florida's history you'd like to know. Or wouldn't really like to know. Whichever. The information they provide is usually very interesting but goddamn it, if I have to listen to another condescending asshole tell me how inexperienced I am with Florida weather, I am going to explode. Yes, I know, it gets really hot and there are hurricanes. These are new things for me and I will understand soon, can we move on?

One of the most common questions a native will ask me is if I've tried alligator yet. I'm told it tastes like chicken, only chewier. No matter how many times I explain I've heard plenty about the subject and I have no interest in eating it myself, I get a full run-down of how it is prepared and what is to be expected. This conversation isn't nearly as bad as the one described above, as these are people who genuinely want you to understand their culture, but it gets old.

The majority of "proud natives" I've met have been surprisingly smart. It's not as though I was expecting them to be stupid, it's just that there have been particularly intelligent and insightful people I have had the fortune to encounter. Don't get me wrong, there's still tons of idiots. It's going to be like that no matter what part of the world you live. Here, there are pick-up trucks with "Git-R-Done" bumper stickers and douchebags in cargo shorts and sandals. In Philly there are SUVs with spinning rims and douchebags in Jersey Shore-like garb. Small differences.

There is one thing I often wonder about, however. There are many Florida natives that speak with a southern drawl. Everything sounds cooler with a southern accent, I admit. The thing is, I've met natives who have no traces of such. I'm sure that it probably has to do with what part of Florida you grew up in...but there is a small fragment of my mind that questions whether there are people who exaggerate their accents for the benefit of the impressed Northerners.

Overall, I like Florida. I don't love it, but I like it. I can wear tank tops everyday and no one notices how much I sweat because EVERYONE is sweating. There's more nature than I'm used to, the produce is cheaper and tastes better. I got to fall in love here. But just because I like something doesn't mean I'm not going to make fun of it. A lot.

It's 6AM as I begin to write and I, as usual, have not slept yet. I've had too much coffee to do so and not nearly enough rest to write well. You have been warned.

My weekend was lovely, as always. Bars, rolling around, cute guy with a cute dog, finally getting my Nook to work, sudoku, skating, spending time with Nicole, cooking, flooding my kitchen. Today (or yesterday, in non-gamer days) was spent productively. I wrote, worked out, read, registered for this summer's social justice institute in Denver, and ordered a copy of my birth certificate.

There are things in my life right now that are overwhelming and complicated. Nothing is quite as simple or as easy as it seems these days. But it's kind of amazing. I feel more like myself than I have in years while still being the person I really want to be. It's always been one or the other for me. I am, of course, not thrilled with how things turned out with Dan but I am pleased that he has been so honest and mature during our rare instances of recent communication. We're both slightly bitter, which is healthy at this point, but we've done well not to lash out at each other. Him even more so now that he is aware I am serious with someone. That being said, I am looking forward to when we can move on to a real friendship rather than the inevitable limbo of forced, polite conversation.

I'm also very grateful to be with someone who understands how tricky the situation is. I certainly don't believe it to be anything that should be a cause for concern but I do, however, realize most people aren't too happy to know their significant other is speaking with their ex. Especially during the beginning of a relationship when insecurity is at it's peak.

I'm rambling so I'm now going to abruptly finish this post. Goodnight (in gamer nights).

Isn't it always the case that once you become unconcerned with dating you end up finding someone wonderful? My thoughts on being with someone were essentially "whatevs, mang" and suddenly there was an insomniac knocking on my door with a cute face and a trunk full of booze. Just another way my ability to not give a fuck has improved my life exponentially.

On a somewhat unrelated note, I'd like to tell the tale of my 21st birthday.

Our story begins around midnight on the 16th, marking the official start of my birthday. Mike (the object of my affections) and I went to a dive bar to celebrate. I got a Miller Lite and he got a Cape Codder (cough, masculine term for Cosmopolitan, cough) because I'm a bro and he's a delicate flower. A lovely stranger bought me a shot and told me how on her own 21st, a girl she didn't know bought her a shot and told her to "pay it forward". I promised I would do the same in the future. I had the pleasure of receiving a phone call from my beloved Katrina and talked to my brother for the first time outside of the internet. Afterwards, we came back to my place only to drink more in my kitchen/act utterly ridiculous.

The next day (in gamer days) was kicked off with copious amounts of sushi. Mike and Nicole ate their food like normal human beings while I went into Kirby mode and sucked down everything in front of me as quickly as possible. Including some of Nicole's fried rice because I'm a champ. When we finally arrived at the bar, my mom was already trashed. Like, grinding on her male companion trashed. Not that I'm complaining, as he was buying us drinks all evening and my mom bought me the ones he didn't. Once I was sufficiently inebriated, I proceeded to tell Nicole how much I freaking love her and Mike that he looked like a combination of Johnny Depp, Justin Timberlake, and a stereotypical intellectual. If I was truly capable of feeling shame/embarrassment, I might be doing so right now. But I'm not.

Once the crowd thinned and Nicole had to leave for an overnight shift at work, we headed over to another bar called Brandy's. Brandy's is infinitely more white trash and therefore more fun. Tequila, vodka, and whiskey quickly brought me from drunk to mangled. The older "gentleman" next to us kept insisting Mike should take me up to dance no matter how many times I made it clear my only interest was in taking shots and getting shitfaced. To sum up our adventures at Brandy's in one sentence: We played one of the most horrible games of pool in history, fell like dominoes on the floor, and knocked over a stool in excitement.

My mom and her...guy friend left to do things I'd rather not have knowledge of so we stumbled to 7-11 so Mike could get cigarettes. The only part of that walk I remember vividly is being carried across a sidewalk river caused by sprinklers. Once Mike was sober enough to drive and I was drunk enough to want fast food we left for Checkers/home. I drunkenly confessed my adoration, ate way too much, worked out in an awkward/wobbly fashion, took more shots, and passed out.

My hangover the next day consisted of soup, Tina Fey, and general boyfriend awesomeness. Overall, it was the best birthday ever. The end.