Get Me The Hell Out Of Florida

Both sides of my family live in Florida. My mother went to high school there and many of my relatives who don't even live there anymore went to college there. I have three aunts, three uncles, six cousins and a grandmother there, counting both sides. And those are just the full-timers.

I fucking hate Florida.

I hadn't been back since I was twelve, but I spent a lot of time there when I was a kid. My hatred of Florida, I felt, needed a refresher. I wanted to, as an adult, stand in the sun and confirm my beliefs.

My uncle got married, thus the weekend-long trip to Clearwater and our stay in Clearwater Beach. The entire "mom's side of the family" got together for a happy-non-funeral-occasion for the first time in years. Nice wedding (despite the lack of A/C), and I loved meeting the bride's autistic twelve-year-old son who was brilliant if you could get to him right. He told us he has his own culture that doesn't involve manners, and that he "flaps" (wildly throws his hands in the air) to calm himself down because he is aware that he is autistic, and he aparently had the most involved and long conversation with us, strangers, that my uncle has ever seen. He even remembered our names the next day, which is also very, very rare.

But back to Florida: the first five things I saw were a Jesus-mobile, a beautiful crane, a choose-life license plate, the international Scientology headquarters and the national Shriners headquarters.

The crane did not make up for the rest. I love the wildlife (the lizards are fun to chase), hate the weather (just like today, 95-100 degrees, but even MORE humid), can't stand the people (either fat and angry or anorexic and drunk, it seemed), hate most of the food (can I please get a grilled chicken sandwich, not a blackened chicken sandwich), feel weird in the brand-new architecture (the streets are all at perfect right angles and everything is painted PINK or AQUA), and am not a huge fan of the sun - water - sun - water - sun - drinks - water - drinks - water - drinks - passout routine.

I believe that the God-fearing Christians down there are honestly good people. They try their best to do what they believe (and are told) is right and want to raise their kids well and be happy. This does not mean I want to live with them. Christians here are what I consider "real" Christians, who are more concerned about their own relationship with God. Down there they seem to be far too concerned with all the sinners out there. On the plane home (JetBlue rocks, by the way), I watched something on the discovery channel about evangelicals and some survey somewhere says over half of all Americans believes we are living in the End Times.

Only YOU can make your dreams come TRUE!!

Anyway, Florida is an interesting experience. Yes, there was some southern hospitality. People seem happier to chat with a stranger in line or ask the time. But I also saw extreme road rage and a cop almost get into a fist fight with some lady who was criticizing her. Having my mother and cousin point out where they went to high school was creepy. People actually LIVE here? All the time? This is their experience of "home"? I would feel more at home in Arizona, where it feels like walking on the moon. I would live anywhere I've been before Florida. Colorado. Arizona. Even one of the Carolinas would be better, because the people might be similar but at least the landscape is somewhat normal. When my brother mentioned to my cousin that he could never imagine living there, she replied that she felt the same way about where we grew up. I guess it's all perspective. But still...

I kept meaning to go into the motel room, and kept staying just a little bit longer, until I ended up with a sunburn that is uber-embarrassing. I look like I am wearing pink stalkings up to my thighs and a white tanktop with a red shirt underneath. I'm off to put on more "green stuff".