there's no place like home but i kinda wish home was on a beach
So I'm home from Florida. Thank god I had a night with my girlfriends so I could be reminded that there are normal, awesome people who actually just love me. Long week after a visit with my mother. Hard trip. Nice to be home.
On Sunday I sat on the shores of Longboat Key, where my dad's parents lived during the winter for 20 years. My bff Lisa or my sister and I used to go there for winter and spring break and it was so lively and beautiful. This time it seemed so desolate and lonely, yet I could have stayed there forever soaking up the sun, the salty air, and the energy from all the good memories. It's weird when people who were a huge part of your life are just gone and everything changes. It almost feels like none of it really happened.
While I was gone I exchanged upwards of 400 text messages with a seemingly cosmopolitan friend of mine from whom I couldn't tear myself away. I'd send him pictures from my phone from wherever I was and he could have just written back, "same gulf, different beach, Jill" but he would write back and tell me how lucky I was to be there. Yeah, lucky that no shark or stray gator had bitten off my limbs, or that I hadn't run into any ex-convicts who might cut me up in a million pieces and hide my body in a box spring.
Truth is...I guess that probably could have happened, cuz I met a guy in Clearwater Beach. Seemed cool, good sense of humor, some tats (although not as cool or colorful as mine), but a nice guy. Spent the evening eating sushi and drinking wine on the beach. I should have known he was full of shit when he kept insisting he was seeing shooting stars that weren't there, and looking back, I think we talked about him 80% of the time...anyway, around 45 minutes into Sunday morning he turned into an asshole. I guess he did me a favor...at least I found out he was an asshole before I put too much time into him. But still...
I got to fly first class home, and from Dallas to Albuquerque I had the most spiritual and uplifting conversation with Sister Agnes of the Franciscan Diocese. We talked about everything from the fucked up bastard I met on Clearwater Beach to why women will never be priests to what it's like handing a newborn baby to its mom and watching them bond to how she felt about not being able to have sex (yes, I asked). Then on my way home the bulletin board at the church by my house said, "Eternal perspective makes the difference," which is basically what her whole message was. Divine. She would have said that was an angel.
Oh, and I drove over this bridge. By the time I realized it was there, I had no choice, so it was like bridge coercion. But thankfully it all worked out ok in the end.
On Sunday I sat on the shores of Longboat Key, where my dad's parents lived during the winter for 20 years. My bff Lisa or my sister and I used to go there for winter and spring break and it was so lively and beautiful. This time it seemed so desolate and lonely, yet I could have stayed there forever soaking up the sun, the salty air, and the energy from all the good memories. It's weird when people who were a huge part of your life are just gone and everything changes. It almost feels like none of it really happened.While I was gone I exchanged upwards of 400 text messages with a seemingly cosmopolitan friend of mine from whom I couldn't tear myself away. I'd send him pictures from my phone from wherever I was and he could have just written back, "same gulf, different beach, Jill" but he would write back and tell me how lucky I was to be there. Yeah, lucky that no shark or stray gator had bitten off my limbs, or that I hadn't run into any ex-convicts who might cut me up in a million pieces and hide my body in a box spring.
Truth is...I guess that probably could have happened, cuz I met a guy in Clearwater Beach. Seemed cool, good sense of humor, some tats (although not as cool or colorful as mine), but a nice guy. Spent the evening eating sushi and drinking wine on the beach. I should have known he was full of shit when he kept insisting he was seeing shooting stars that weren't there, and looking back, I think we talked about him 80% of the time...anyway, around 45 minutes into Sunday morning he turned into an asshole. I guess he did me a favor...at least I found out he was an asshole before I put too much time into him. But still...
I got to fly first class home, and from Dallas to Albuquerque I had the most spiritual and uplifting conversation with Sister Agnes of the Franciscan Diocese. We talked about everything from the fucked up bastard I met on Clearwater Beach to why women will never be priests to what it's like handing a newborn baby to its mom and watching them bond to how she felt about not being able to have sex (yes, I asked). Then on my way home the bulletin board at the church by my house said, "Eternal perspective makes the difference," which is basically what her whole message was. Divine. She would have said that was an angel.
Oh, and I drove over this bridge. By the time I realized it was there, I had no choice, so it was like bridge coercion. But thankfully it all worked out ok in the end.
posted by jill at 09:52
10 Comments:
welcome home jilly. Sometimes the best part of traveling is laying back in your own bed.
dude...are you going to a magic gathering?
can we explore why a nun was in 1st class?
they take vows of poverty and celibacy. sitting next to you in 1st class.....daring womnan was she.
ohhhhh...good catch. i was only in first class from ft. lauderdale to dallas...it was sold out to abq. we were in the lowly coach seats.
just wondering, does this blog employ a fact checker?
what part of my blog don't you believe?
i can't believe you came back
me either
wish I could have been there with you!
LISSSSSSSSSSS! you figured it out. damn, i missed you, the whole time i was there. clearwater would have been WAY more fun with you.
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