Sssshhh…listen. Do you feel that?
No, you don’t. There’s absolutely no wind whatsoever here.
Brace yourselves: I’m unattended in Northwest Florida. I flew into Panama City yesterday evening, courtesy of my brothers and sisters in Christ. I got to see a glorious sunset over the ocean from the plane. I instantly felt so unworthy of such a trip–sure, I’m here to visit my sister, but white sand and emerald water and tall pines and t-shirt weather? I’m jealous of myself.
I get my bag and I get my rental car–a suweet Chevy Aveo with all the perks including a CD player that plays CDs, and a nifty little feature that involves sticking your key in the ignition and turning on the engine automatically. It’s amazing. Aveo, how I love you. Let me count the ways. I will try to pack you in my suitcase and take you back with me. I might be successful.
I headed west on some beachtown backroads, trying to find my way to the interstate. The sun had gone down and no moonlight or anything shone down through all the pine trees. It was pitch black. I passed a sign that looks like this:
All of the sudden, I found myself 1. inexplicably afraid of hungry bears, and 2. wondering “What is the best bear?” (False. Black Bear.)
I drove, in the dark, on curvy back roads, and my family blew up my phone every 2 seconds. I found it difficult to carry on a conversation and navigate through po-dunk towns and watch out for bears, so I just stopped taking calls; I cranked up my music as loud as it would go, and sang over that. Here’s me: “Marvin! He was a friend of mine!”
I am super hoarse today. And after I take 3 hours to straighten my hair (Hello, humidity–we meet again), I will head on over to my little sister’s house.
It’s good to be here.