Monday, May 14, 2012

tropical suburbia

It was a dismal day in the land on Ponte Vedra, late afternoon summer thunderstorms created a sticky and electrically charged environment. The activities were limited and the tension was almost as thick as the humid air, job hunting was pushed off for yet another day because of yet another sad excuse. Friends were blown off and building painters made inappropriate comments. Life was dismal but not depressing, slow and lackluster.
 Home, or at least that's was I used to call it.
 The rains waited until after the golfers and belligerently drunk fans had parted from the prior day's finale of The Players Championship. The roads were less crowded, the golf carts were back in their garage's waiting for the one day a month they were actually used on the course. Life was back to normal. The normality that drove me insane, the normality that I claimed I missed. Don't get me wrong, I love my parents more than anything, but there is something in the water here. There is something eerie about a life lived in a suburban "vacation town" or "retirement community" and here I am for three months, too poor to travel, and dreams far too big for this small town. Focus the energy on something productive, months of solidarity to create, DIY projects galore, lists to be made, fun to be had.
 Let the games begin.
 And may this summer be ever in our favor.

Just another outfit from the Goodwill trip the other day. As for trends I am obsessing over; tropical prints. I need these Vans!



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