10 May 2008

How Do You Spell Moist? T A M P A

As soon as I walked out of the terminal, it felt like I was stepping into a swamp. That's what Florida is, really, a swamp, but I didn't quite expect to be slapped in the face with Tampa's sweaty palm. At 8:30 pm, when it should be breezy and delightful out, it was miserably muggy. I haven't been here in the spring or summer since I moved to New York in 2004. January in Florida is gorgeous. May is...wet. Not refreshingly, rainy wet. More like moist wet. Like, you walk out and are instantly moist all over, in an unpleasant way.

I do admit, though, that there are things I miss about living here. I miss having a car. I would never want to have one in New York, but I miss driving it around in Tampa. It's like your own private, traveling karaoke room. My car was the only place I could really belt out the tunes, and doing that makes me really feel the song, like the way it's meant to be felt. I've been listening to Arcade Fire and TV on the Radio. Playing them in the car and singing along, it's almost like they're completely new! I also miss being close to water. Rather, CLEAN water. Beautiful, clean water that the sun shines on and nearly blinds you as you drive over the low bridge.

Today when I was walking on Central Ave in downtown St. Pete, I saw an old woman riding side saddle on her scooter. She was carrying a fan on it, so she had to hold her legs to the side. It was amusing to watch. Downtown is pretty quiet. Not dead quiet, just quiet quiet. It's not like the financial district type of downtown, it's like shopping, dining, strolling downtown. But there wasn't a whole lot of that going on.

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