Florida, But Three Times

Growing up, my grandparents lived in a beautiful little condo community on Longboat Key, and it didn't take long for me to fall in love with Florida. I'm still smitten. Ah, Florida. The beaches, the salty air, the marvelous sun, the friendly people, the drag queens of Jacksonville, the fact that murder is basically legal... I could go on and on. It's a fascinating, wonderful state. In fact, it is so wonderful, that as an adult, I have made several (three, to be exact) trips there, completely on a whim, all of which I feel could be novellas of their own. The planned trips I've taken there just aren't the same. And so, since I don't write novellas, I've decided to compile all of the very abridged versions here, for your reading pleasure, and for my nostalgia.

The first time I took off on a random beach adventure, it was an accident. I was 19. I worked as a waitress, in a bar just north of Atlanta, lived with my boyfriend, and I was the proud owner of a hand me down 1992 Chrysler LeBaron Lx convertible, with a busted back window, and a blown convertible top motor. Truly, I had it made. Unfortunately, I was restless. It's not that anything was terribly wrong, but there's something about dating a close friend that people forget to mention. Sometimes, when there's no conflict or adventure because you both know each other too well, and you're only 19, one can start to feel...bored. Suffocated. Not that your partner is boring or suffocating, but relationships sometimes have periods of stagnancy. That night, I was bored with everything, and with everyone. I got off of work, and began to head home, but took a detour. Instead of turning onto 41 North, I turned onto 41 South, and kept going. After about an hour, I told myself I should get home, that it was really late, and Jon might be getting worried. I usually got home right after he did, but I kept driving. Around 3am, I heard my phone ring, and didn't answer it. The voicemail rolled in, but I didn't check it. I kept driving. It was as if I was possessed. I needed to keep going, I needed to be away. Not for long, but just for a little while. I stopped for gas, and told myself to head home, but I just couldn't. I didn't even know where I was headed, I just knew I had to go. Before I knew it, I was in Florida, and it was around 6am. My busted up Chrysler had fared well. I stopped off to look at a map, and realized if I kept on, I was headed straight for Sarasota, right near where my grandparents had spent the rest of their lives. Something in me was telling me to go there, and I didn't deny myself the opportunity. When I arrived, I sneaked into the complex, and headed straight for the beach. I sat in silence, all alone, for only a few minutes before my dad called. I figured Jon must have called him to see if I was all right, and I was super not looking forward to explaining that I had driven my run down vehicle hours away, without telling anyone, and with no real backup plan for possible disaster. I decided not to answer. I called Jon back. Part of what makes this such a fond memory was the reaction I got from one of the people closest to me. For a while, I'd been struggling with not feeling understood and I was frustrated because I knew I needed something, I just didn't know what it was or how to ask for it. That morning, even if he was a little confused, he was very much not phased by my brief escape, or my need for space. I felt completely validated.
J:  Hey! Where are you? Are you okay?
L: Hey! Yeah, I'm good. In Florida.
J: What?
L: I'm in Florida.
J: What do you mean?
L: I mean what it sounds like. I am currently in Florida.
J: ...You're where?
L: Jon.
J: Yeah?
L: I went to Florida.
J: You didn't come home?
L: No.
J: Oh. Are you going to?
L: Yeah.
J: When?
L: Don't know. Probably in a few minutes.
J: But you just got there. You aren't gonna have a beach day or something?
L: Nah. Just came to say hello to the ocean. Been at the beach for a bit. I'll be home in a few hours.
J: Do you want to talk on your way back?
L: No, everything's good. I just needed a long drive.
J: You got one. Hey, did you take the LeBaron?
L: Yeah.
J: Really?! Damn, glad it made it.
L: Same here.
J: Call me if it blows up.
L: Will do.
J: Your dad's gonna be pissed.
L: I know.
J: Are we telling him?
L: We are not.

And that was all. I felt renewed. All I wanted was to see the water, and smell the salt, and it was exactly what I needed.

The second time I found myself on a last minute road trip, I was with a dear friend of mine, Eric. I was 21, I think. We had become pretty close, pretty quickly, and he was introducing me to some of his friends. Sitting in his buddy's room, we were trying to plan the rest of the day. He asked me what I wanted to do.
"I want to go to the beach."
"What beach?"
I shrugged. "Any beach?"
"Okay, well let's go!"
He asked his friends if they wanted to come with us, and they all declined. They didn't believe we were serious, but we were. They told us there was no way we were going to go on a road trip at 4 in the afternoon, but they were wrong. Eric and I left to go gather supplies, make the necessary schedule adjustments, and call around to see who was going to join us. We lucked out, and recruited one of our favorite friends, Pat. We all agreed to take Pat's truck, and his parents even packed us some snacks. Everything was smooth sailing. We hadn't chosen a destination, we only decided to take 75 South, and we'd pick a beach later.
Along the way, I realized we could stop off to see one of my best friends in Valdosta. Eric and Pat didn't need much convincing, since we already had no schedule. As luck would have it, my Valdosta friend was having a little get together. We all hung around, shared a bunch of laughs, and took some pictures with our road trip mascot, a bobble head Boba Fett. Eventually, we were back on the road, and had unanimously decided on Cocoa Beach. Upon arrival, we found our hotel, and immediately started in on one of our two handles of Captain Morgan. For the next few days, it was nothing but great friends, sunshine, and shenanigans. To this day, we have so many jokes that came from that trip, and I still have a hundred pictures. It was yet another situation where I felt so valued by those close to me. My boys made sure I was safe, happy, and comfortable, and I love them for it. At that time in my life, I really needed a getaway. I got one.

The third whimsical excursion to the great state of Florida actually began in a bar on St Simons Island. I was 22. I lived on the mainland, in a cozy apartment with Jon. We decided to go out to the island for dinner and drinks. In a dingy dive, I spotted Cameron. She was beautiful, and had gorgeous tattoos, and seemed full of life. She was also being hit on by a very persistent young man, and I noticed she was starting to get annoyed. As far as girl code goes, I take it very seriously when I see a woman getting bothered by some guy at the bar, so I stepped in to make friends. It turned out Cameron really didn't need much saving, but she appreciated the gesture, and came to hang out with me. I introduced her to Jon, and one of his friends from school. Of course, Jon's school buddy had quite the crush on the new girl. She let him down easy, explaining he just wasn't her type. She preferred women. For some reason, that made me laugh harder than any of the jokes told all evening. I think it was the look on the guy's face. Still, we all had a blast that night. Swapping stories, roaming the street, and taking a walk out on the pier. My new friend was actually on a family vacation, and although she had to head home in a few days, she suggested we hang out the next night, when her friend was going to visit from Jacksonville. I was still pretty new in town, and even though she didn't live there herself, it was nice to feel like I was making friends and fitting in.
The next night, we all met at the same place, and I was introduced to the charming Elizabeth. She and I hit it off right away. After a while, she mentioned there was a drag show she was going to be missing, and the ball started rolling. The three of us girls were suddenly hellbent on going to that show. Jacksonville was only about an hour away, and how much fun would it be to run off for an impromptu girl's trip? Jon wasn't thrilled, but found the whole thing hilarious. "No, no. By all means, run off with two lesbians you don't know to hang out with a bunch of drag queens you also don't know, in another state. I kinda wish I was going, too!" We all promised in unison to be very, very safe. And we were. Sorta.
We all climbed into Elizabeth's car, and off we went. The drag show was too much fun. I can't even recall everyone I met, and there was an incredible amount of dancing. After it was over, we went to Elizabeth's apartment, where Cameron and I insisted we break into the pool. Against her better judgement, Elizabeth conceded, and gathered some towels. After climbing the fence, breaking my phone, skinny dipping, then streaking through the complex and accidentally flashing two Army soldiers, we all decided it was time to make food and nap. The night was a whirlwind. Only a couple hours later, we were hungover and exhausted, but it was time to go. I drove so they could sleep. We dropped Cameron off at her hotel, and then headed to my place, where we recuperated briefly before Elizabeth had to head home.
Of all the random new friend adventures I've been on, this was probably my favorite. When you meet people you can immediately be comfortable and laugh with, it is a truly beautiful thing. Especially when you're new in town, and feeling like you'll never connect with anyone. I haven't seen those girls since, but we try to keep in touch.

I try to remember all of these times when I feel crowded or restless. It's nice to know that through all things, and in all situations, the universe will find a way to give me what I need, even if what I need sounds ridiculous.

xoxo