|My current "office."|
As much as I whine about Florida, it does have its good points. Beaches, for instance. And sun.Ohhhhhh (squeal, cry), the Sun!
Damn, I love that hot little star. I love it the way that an 11-year-old girl loves Justin Bieber. I love it like the average Seattle resident loves ironic fire-related sports (flaming tetherball, anyone?) and gay cupcakes (delicious, btw) and all-tuba jam bands.
Okay, you get the over-wraught analogy. I love the sun so much that it almost--almost!--makes me overlook Jacksonville's many inherent flaws. After an abysmal non-spring in Seattle, basking in the sun makes me down right giddy; my cares and neuroses melt away like a tube of lipstick left in a hot car. Add to that, the unrepentant pleasure of eating fresh--and shamelessly fried! mmmmmm! I don't care what you Seattle foodies have to say about it!--seafood, and even some of my beloved grits. For a while, I can lull myself into thinking that I could live here again, maybe, possibly, someday...
Until I get out on the highway.
"Seriously???" I wanted to shout. "How could you miss that--"
Before I could formulate my imaginary rebuttal, said truck cut me off, then pulled onto the grassy median (which is illegal, despite what he may remember from watching The Dukes of Hazard) and drove around the slowed cars, until he eventually shoehorned his way back into traffic.
This led me back to the question I've asked myself a million times before: why are so many of the progressive, open-minded cities in the world relegated to places with such utterly abysmal weather? Yes, Seattle has unbeatable Pride parties (which I am sadly missing) and lots of organic rainbow chard and liberal media outlets. Do all of these things somehow require shitty weather? If so, why?