Florida Day 1 (12/5/04)

Though not my first flight, I dealt with my ride to Florida with less than iron fortitude. Twiddling my thumbs at mach speed and clenching my jaw so tight that it somehow made my crotch hurt. It was difficult to say what I was so nervous about. I'm well informed, I knew the facts; I know there's a better chance of killing myself with a Nutrageous bar than actually dying in a plane crash. But that didn't seem to make me any more relaxed. Something about it, the long dawn out anticipation before takeoff, the massive acceleration as you speed down the runway, the availability of free booze. It's all so intimidating.

Things went off without a hitch though, and for that I’m grateful.

It became apparent soon after we landed and piled in our rental car how obsessed my mother was with hurricane damage. Every few minutes it was “Oooh, look at all knocked over trees,” or “Look, that house still has a tarp over the roof.” She would point out broken street signs like she was drawing our attention to foreign landmarks. My mom is funny like that.

The condo, which was to be the base of our operations for the next six days and five nights, was about the size of my car. It had one bedroom and one living area. The bedroom was for my parents, the living area was for my sister and I. She got the fold-out couch. I got the cot which, because of the space taken up by the fold-out couch, could not be unfurled without opening two doors. This is not to say she had the bigger bed, it was just a small, small place.

That was it, on day one we only settled in and had dinner at Cracker Barrel (where you can get eggs with ANYTHING!).

P.S. What’s up with grits? They’re not that great.

P.S.S. Pictures to follow soon.