All These Things That I’ve Done

There are a lot of things I’ve done over the years that give me pause, for what the hell was I thinking? Why DID I date that guy who was a full 10 years older than me WHEN I WAS FOURTEEN? (Ew, right? Does it not make you a little ill? You should know it was short-lived and no no, there was no activity of the statutory variety. I have to clarify that. Which THEN makes you wonder, what was wrong with HIM? AND ME? AND EW, THANK GOD.) You know, stuff like that. I don’t have a lot of big regrets, because at the end of the day, I figure, meh, it’s part of the way life is supposed to be, and if I hadn’t done those things, maybe I wouldn’t have ended up with all the good stuff I have (and the bad, too, but such is life). Okay, maybe I wish I hadn’t ever smoked, but that’s nothing I haven’t remedied, hopefully without too much long-term damage.

I think regret should be saved for things that are seriously LIFE-ALTERING, like forgetting to put on your seat belt before a big car wreck, God forbid, or I don’t know, feeling bad for pushing your mother-in-law off off of the edge of the balcony (not that I’ve, um, ever wanted to do anything like that, nor has anyone I know. NOPE).

But you know, I have to wonder what I was thinking when I moved to Florida. I guess I couldn’t have known, really, the disaster I was diving into, but now that I’m in Vermont, the fallacy in that decision is remarkably clear. You guys, it’s pretty here. I am not particularly well traveled in the global sense — I’ve been to parts of Europe and the Caribbean, and that’s about it, except, of course, for Canada — but I’ve been all over the United States, to parts large and small. The only areas I’m yearning to go that I haven’t been yet are Montana and Wyoming (Yellowstone, it calls to me), although I would certainly go back to many of the places I’ve already been in a heartbeat. And I have to say, this is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. Ever. And I live here.

The mountains! We’re at the foot of the Green Mountains, and Lake Champlain is mere minutes from our house and honestly, it takes my breath away when I drive through the rural roads and see the farms with their rolling hills with horses backing up against the purple mountains uh, majesty. (Shut up.) I always thought I was an ocean person, but ocean views are so limited in their access — full view of the ocean is limited to either the very rich or the very lucky, but mountain views are for everyone.

I would post some pictures for you, but a certain someone, who I may or may not be married to, packed the USB thing to download my photos. And that stuff doesn’t arrive until Tuesday, which means that in the interim, we ain’t got nothin’ but an air mattress.

And I’m so grateful — so very grateful — that we live here now, even if it doesn’t work out, because it reminds me of what I missed when I was in Florida. I know a lot of people like Florida, and I mean no disrespect at all — what I’m talking about here are the things that are important to ME, and were very likely unique to my particular area of Florida. Like, for example, original architecture. In Naples, every single building was faux Mediterranean. EVERY. BUILDING. And after a while, stucco really gets old and it starts to feel like you’re living in one of those fake mini-countries at Epcot — cute for a visit, but do you REALLY want to live in Fake Morocco, bastilla aside? (Mmmm … bastilla.)

And the weather: yes, it’s warm and lovely and God, you never have to wear a coat. Like, EVER. But … the whole weather thing I found to be deceptive in that yes, it’s warm and wonderful, but please, for the love of Jesus, don’t sit in the grass, for you will be devoured by fire ants within mere moments. (Just ask my ass.) And if you’re in a rare place where you WON’T be eaten like a Grilled Stuft Burrito, the grass is sharp, and will slice you open like tiny razorblades. And there are snakes! SNAKES IN YOUR GARAGE! And alligators! IT IS A HARROWING PLACE, THAT FLORIDA.

To be fair, I lived in Naples, and though there were inherent issues, such as the fact that they LOVED Katherine Harris there and, in fact, voted overwhelmingly to put her in the Senate (HOW ARE THE HANGING CHADS, KATHERINE?), it was also not exactly skewed in my favor, personality wise. Meaning, of course, Adam and I were the rare minority of residents who were under the age of 65. I was asked out more times than I could count by dirty old men — many of whom wanted to know if I was “into motorcycles” for reasons unknown, and our friends were few and far between. Or, if you want to get technical, non-existent.

In short, it didn’t fit me. And I’m not sure if this does, but I’ll tell you, this is the closest I’ve felt to home in almost three years. And that? FEELS PRETTY DAMN GOOD.

Happy Sunday/Monday, to you!

*The Killers

28 comments March 2nd, 2008