admin
22 December 2023
I don't think reasons for being in Florida exist. If they do, they're long forgotten by the time you actually arrive in Florida. I've been here for three weeks now, and I'll be damned if I know why I'm here. I think it has something to do with the fact that Alex and I both grew up here for part of our teenage years, and, by some freak accident, both became nostalgic a few months ago. It was decided that a trip to Florida for four weeks was imperative, and the month of December was promptly sacrificed for this purpose.
Next thing we knew, we were on a red-eye flight to the appendix of America. For the whole first day we were so deprived of sleep that we were actually living in an alternate universe. Everything went by in a haze. We were extremely gung-ho for the first few hours after we arrived, but suddenly our batteries were empty, and we passed out in a rental car in a parking lot.
We spent pretty much all of the second day wondering why we'd booked our tickets to stay in Florida for a whole goddamn month. It just seemed like the most bizarre thing to have done. Sure, it's cute and all to walk the streets we used to walk when we were 17 and pass by all the wonderful white trash scenes that had become all glittery in our memories--- but, a MONTH? What on God's green Earth were we thinking?
On top of that, we were more or less broke-- which meant we were living off of boiled eggs and walking everywhere. We visited old neighbors, old gardeners, and old pets. We walked by my family's old house, too, which looked bewildered and sad. Not that it ever looked nice, but now it looked kind of crippled. The roof of the garage was falling in, and weeds were growing in the driveway.
Well, we're here now-- three weeks into our puzzling trip. And maybe weirder than even having decided to come here in the first place, is the fact that it feels kind of cozy being here. Time seems not to exist, and life has lost all of its usual patterns.
I could probably think of more to say on the subject, but I'm using a library computer right now, and my time is just about up. The moral of the story? I don't know. Probably something like: If you dig deep enough, boredom will yield strange fruit. Oh, and also: Starbucks is fucking expensive.
Next thing we knew, we were on a red-eye flight to the appendix of America. For the whole first day we were so deprived of sleep that we were actually living in an alternate universe. Everything went by in a haze. We were extremely gung-ho for the first few hours after we arrived, but suddenly our batteries were empty, and we passed out in a rental car in a parking lot.
We spent pretty much all of the second day wondering why we'd booked our tickets to stay in Florida for a whole goddamn month. It just seemed like the most bizarre thing to have done. Sure, it's cute and all to walk the streets we used to walk when we were 17 and pass by all the wonderful white trash scenes that had become all glittery in our memories--- but, a MONTH? What on God's green Earth were we thinking?
On top of that, we were more or less broke-- which meant we were living off of boiled eggs and walking everywhere. We visited old neighbors, old gardeners, and old pets. We walked by my family's old house, too, which looked bewildered and sad. Not that it ever looked nice, but now it looked kind of crippled. The roof of the garage was falling in, and weeds were growing in the driveway.
Well, we're here now-- three weeks into our puzzling trip. And maybe weirder than even having decided to come here in the first place, is the fact that it feels kind of cozy being here. Time seems not to exist, and life has lost all of its usual patterns.
I could probably think of more to say on the subject, but I'm using a library computer right now, and my time is just about up. The moral of the story? I don't know. Probably something like: If you dig deep enough, boredom will yield strange fruit. Oh, and also: Starbucks is fucking expensive.
artid
1967
Old Image
6_5_mercedes.jpg
issue
vol 6 - issue 05 (jan 2004)
section
pen_think