Sorry, friends. No Monday Reading.
I'm in Miami. It's tropical.
Whoooo.
Left a blizzard of gloriously beautiful snow to come down to a balmy eighty degrees and TWO HUNDRED PERCENT humidity. Ah. Lovely.
Actually, Miami in the winter is pretty fantastic. To visit, I mean.
Florida in November through February: FABULOUS.
Any other time of year: Satan has his summer home here because the temperature is just about right for his tastes. Ugh.
Imagine this: Miami in August. It's - and I'm not kidding - averaging around ninety-six degrees and eighty-percent humidity. Classes for fall semester start at the beginning of August. Worst month of the year, no joke, just ask ANYBODY who lives down here. Campus is about thirty miles across, and that's after you park and actually GET to some of the buildings where classes are held. Hauling (And no, I'm not exaggerating here, either.) at least twenty-five pounds of books and laptop with you.
And all my classes are on opposite ends of campus. But I can't drive between them, because that would take too long, and then I'd have to fight for another parking space and probably lose to some blonde Beverly Hills bimbo with fake boobs in over-priced Gucci glasses whose Daddy just bought her her second BMW after she totaled the first one. Not that I'm bitter or anything.
I'm actually NOT. Totally not. In fact, I kind of live my life trying to be the opposite of everything that girl stands for. You couldn't pay me to be her. Except, maybe, for the lipo, boob job, and Beamer. But other than that... Nah. I don't much like spoiled little rich brats. Especially ones who waste their parents' money.
But anyway. I'll get down off my rantbox now.
August and September here were always the worst. But the rest of fall semester, even with the heavy books and twelve-mile long treks between classes - everything - was absolutely gorgeous.
And then, about halfway through spring semester, the heat would come back, with a vengeance, like it was angry for being banished even for a few months. By the end of March, the gorgeous was pretty much all gone, and it's back to dragging your sweat-laden bodies through humidity so thick you had to push through it like swinging doors. Ugh, ugh, UGH.
But it's not March, it's January. Beautiful January. Happy January. Breathtaking sunsets and cool nights with the salt breeze January. Makes dealing with the traffic much easier. I'm SO happy to be here in January. Then, I can actually do stuff with my family OUTSIDE, instead of hibernating inside until the sun goes down like we're some sort of weird family of vampires. Not the sparkly kind, mind you.
So anyway, I'm here.
Happy to be here. Happy to see my Dad, step-Mom, Grandmothers, aunts, uncles, cousins, and everyone else.
Planning on eating all the amazing Cuban food I can stuff down, drink all the amazing Cuban coffee I can guzzle, enjoy my family, visit with my friends (Oops, I meant to say, FRIEND... There is no plural, and YES, I know that it's SAD. And you know who you are.), take a couple of little old ladies out to lunch, go to all my favorite haunts, and just generally enjoy being down here during the most beautiful time of South Florida's season (Yes, there truly is only one season here, and it has two settings: "Warm," and "Hellish").
It will be fun. It already has been. I miss my family. A lot. I just don't miss Miami when Satan's visiting. Or the traffic. Or bajillion other things I could write about right now, but won't because it's almost midnight.
But... I *will* write a Reading post this week. Just not on Monday.
Because I've been up since some unholy early hour, have been through three states and three airports with two small children, lots of whining (Although on the upside, no projectile vomit - now THERE'S a story for another time.), not enough coffee, all the excitement and exhileration of visiting with family and getting settled in, and I am JUST PLAIN TIRED. So tired that I can hardly think straight. Not that I needed to explain all that, but whatever.
I'm going to bed. We'll read together soon, I promise.
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