How to drive someone crazy from 1100 miles away

29 April 2007

Where the heck am I living?

It has occurred to me on several occasions over the past few years that I do not want to die in Florida. I just don't want to live here forever, and my reasonings are varied and sundry.

  1. Once, I went to San Francisco to visit a dear friend I am sad to say I am no longer in contact with. He had moved from San Francisco to Orlando and then back again. Two things memorable about that trip: firstly, he seemed so happy. Read: so much happier than when he lived in Florida. I inquired as to the why, and he said "Because Orlando has no soul... and it wanted mine." Hmm. Second, he took me to a party and introduced me to several Bay Area folk as his friend from Orlando. Every single one of them asked if I was planning to move out to the west coast, and when I said no, they looked at me as if to say "Awwwww. Poor little girl with no soul. Someday, if she wishes really, really hard, she may become real like the Velveteen Rabbit."
  2. I went to Rhinebeck. I told every knitter, spinner, sheep herder, vendor, dyer, and blogger that I was from Florida. I was met 4 times out of 5 (and no, I did not only meet 5 people, it's a ratio) with a response that sounded a lot like "They have knitters in Florida?"
  3. Nothing cool ever happens here. Yarn Harlot isn't planning to come even as far south as Atlanta, and man, that's a long drive in itself. And that crazy girl is going to freaking ALASKA! There are no fiber festivals, there are only two (two!) yarn shops in this whole city, no knit-ins, and I am only detailing what I can't get here as a knitter. My cable sucks (there is good cable in Orlando, I just don't have it), the downtown scene kinda blows (you always have a good time, but you always have the same good time ), local music is pretty decent but the really good touring shows usually seem to end up in Tampa. Restaurants are mostly corporate chains with a nice handful of diamonds in the rough. The art scene leaves something to be desired. We do have the MegaCon and the Enzian, though. Can't touch that.
  4. Bugs and lizards. Yuck and OMG-double-yuck. I have a weird, tiny little gross-out every time I see one of the tiny lizards that run all over the sidewalks, and there are bugs everyfreakingwhere here. Especially bugs that can give you brain swelling (encephalitis is carried by mosquitoes) and giant, poodle-eating lizards in most lakes. Don't get me started about frogs. Oh, how I am shuddering right now, just thinking about the creepy little frogs.
  5. It's holy-God hot here. I swear, even my corpse would sweat. Wool is just less than useful, and try talking your boyfriend into wanting a Fair Isle sweater in ninety degree heat.
  6. Oh, yeah, hurricane season is on the way. Squee!

So, for crying out loud, people, send Florida some happy thoughts and some fiber-related items of interest, like a knitting book author or a sheep dog trial or something. Maybe I am just kicking myself for not going to Thursday night knitting for I can't remember how long anymore. Maybe it's time to consider packing up and getting a move on. Maybe I should quit my whining and go to bed.

Nighty-night.

1 Comments:

Blogger CygKnit said...

How right you are about the downtown scene. I never really realized that, but it make so much sense.

I miss my loved ones in Florida, but I haven't missed Orlando once.

10:30 AM

 

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