Florida Reflection Part 1

 I’ve been thinking…I should write about my time here in Florida so far…after all I’ve been here almost nine years (since 2017)…as I sip my pumpkin coffee and take a drag off a Seneca…so here goes…

I drove down here from Virginia in March of 2017, my red Subaru forester weighted down with my belongings. Not everything I owned, as I only planned to visit ( but I ended up staying). I drove down 95 nervously, with no music to soothe my nerves, as my radio had just broken. The Women’s March in Washington had just taken place a few months earlier, so I guess I was imbued with feminist power (I can do anything! Florida here I come!). When it got dark I stopped at a motel 6 (I think ) in Hardeeville, South Carolina. There was no way I was going to continue down 95 for hours in the dark when I hadn’t even hit Georgia. I had never rented a room by myself before (and I had only ever flown on a plane once). It was liberating. I took a shower and got into bed. In the morning I got a complimentary coffee and willed myself to finish this trip. I was so over the broken radio. My mom had given me a transistor radio but I couldn’t tune the stations while I was driving. I took the exit for Ormond Beach and pulled into my dad’s driveway on Selden Avenue. Success, and I was still alive, and much warmer. 

When i got there my dad was painting a table or working on a bicycle. There was like no furniture in the place. He got me a bed frame from my grandparents’. I relished the cold little mandarin oranges in the crisper. I didn’t need a jacket. This is great, I thought. My dad is a pretty cool dude. We took rides to the beach. I wrote about the scenery in my journal. Everything was new and cool: the palms, the lizards, the hibiscus, the water birds, the beach, the seashells, etc. By Memorial Day in May I got a job as a pool monitor for my uncle’s girlfriend’s property management company. It was a long drive to both HOA pool locations, but I didn’t mind. It was only for the summer. It was a really boring job. I wrote a lot. 

My dad had gotten a job as a security guard and he was working night shift at a time share on beachside. Well, one night/morning when he was getting off shift some guy robbed the place. He was wearing blue gloves and holding a fake pistol. My dad took the fake gun and hit the guy on the head with it. He wrestled with the dude until he ran out. My dad called the cops. He told them he was so out of breath because he smokes and he is not in shape for stuff like this. Later on we found out the robbers name was Darcy Rose (give me a break). Maybe you heard about it; it was on the local news. Who robs a time share, for gods sake? Dad had to quit that job later on because he refused to wear the official uniform. He did get out of a traffic ticket once because the cop recognized him as the guy who stopped a robbery. Pretty cool.

I was still working at the pool and I would meet the man who would be my boyfriend for four years. He took me on a date to Ormond Lanes bowling alley (and later on I would end up working there). The attention from him really brightened up the summer and my life. I was 24 and had never (never) had a boyfriend. I started smoking weed at this time, too (looking back that was not a good idea. I was really behind in my teenage rebellion). I hung out with my sister at her apartment and we’d get stoned and go to like KFC or Taco Bell. She got me doing dabs off a bong. I liked the feeling. I stared drinking whiskey with him. The intoxication was fun but not sublime (but pretty close to it). He had a medical marijuana card and gave me some weed concentrate on a piece of chocolate and I got scary high. It was a bad night. He felt so bad he bought me flowers and a card the next day. I never did edibles after that (and I never will).

But I still spent a lot of time with him. I went with his family on a trip to Georgia to watch his brother play his last college basketball game (him and his brothers are very tall). We walked through the German town of Helena, Georgia, and we went ziplining. We flew from North Carolina back to Florida, my second time flying. He took me to Halloween Horror nights at Universal Studios, at least twice. We have seen the Orlando Magic play at the Amway Center. We’ve been to the bars on Seabreeze, and even played beer pong at the TapHouse; we’ve been to Halloween and birthday parties; Christmas and thanksgiving with his family; and a trip to Virginia. I really had fun with him, and I loved him, and I’m sorry our relationship ended due to my addictions. But life goes on (que sera sera, se la vie, carpe diem, yolo, and all that).

Where was I? I kind of jumped ahead of myself. So the pool job was about over, and I’d filled up at least three journals with writing, and then Hurricane Irma hit and it totally flooded my grandparents house on the Tomoka River. There was a lot of work to do, and I emptied the fridge of all the rotted food, power washed the Florida room, lugged water logged boxes outside to dry, raked debris. My grandmother wanted to keep her boxes of fabric (she’s a seamstress) but it was all moldy. Her wedding photos were ruined. Looking back we should have moved everything off the floor being as they lived on a river (hindsight really burns my ass (and has broken my heart)). My uncle rented a truck so they could move into a new house on Prospect Point in Port Orange (they were temporarily staying with my other uncle and he was so over it (that’s an understatement)). All the potted plants, from the tiniest herb to the biggest potted tree, had to be relocated (my nana is all about her flowers). They lived there for maybe a year before they moved again to a bigger, better house, just up the road. 

Are you tired? I’m getting tired. I will finish this in Part 2!