Moving On

As I've stated this week in no uncertain terms, I am BORED as hell here. One can only go to the beach, the gym, Sephora etc. so many times in one week. And I've only been here like four days in the past month! And now that I have no vacations or major events in my Filofax to look forward to, it's time for some planning.

To that end, I've actually begun applying for jobs. In Miami/South Florida. That's right folks, NYC, my spiritual and geographic home for so long is no longer singing its siren song to me. A lot of this has to do with the rodents, rodents, rodents and more rodents, which you longtime readers and friends are well aware of my myriad issues with.

To those of you with no rodent phobias, I am sure it seems like a silly issue, surely not one big enough to keep someone away from a city they love. But for me, mice in one's home is not a mere nuisance; especially when you are paying upwards of $2,000 a month to cohabitate with them.

And though I always, always—from the time I was 13 years old—thought I would live and die in Manhattan, I truly don't much miss living there. Perhaps part of this "I must live in Manhattan or I am nobody" mentality had to do with grandmom Roxy, who grew up there, and mom, who wanted to grow up and live there.

I plan to go to Sarasota soon, where mom grew up and grandparents resided, to exorcise old demons, and to really see the place where I had so many formative adolescent experiences through an adults' eyes.


Even the mere mention of St. Armand's Circle/Lido Beach where Roxy lived, below, triggers so many mixed emotions.

The last time I was there was for grandpa's funeral, nearly 14 years ago. I think it would be both an emotional and interesting experience to go back there on my own and sort of excavate old memories and my family's history. Because not only are my memories of my grandparents there, but their physical legacies are there as well since grandpa's family are real estate developers and many of their projects bear their name. (Below, where grandpa lived.)


Anyway, I have always said that the perfect existence to me would be an apartment in the city and a place on the beach in Florida.

So last night when my mom received a brochure for a timeshare at the St. Regis in NYC and was musing aloud about that and another one on the UWS she's been pondering for years, I had to curb my enthusiasm. For I hope that mom will one day bite the bullet (aka follow her dream, despite my dad's divergent opinions) and invest in something at least marginally permanent in the city; and hopefully I will permanently be on the beach somewhere down here. And through the beauty of familial synergy, then maybe we can all have the best of both worlds, no?

Well, a girl can (and does) dream. I suppose I am feeling nostalgic today, perhaps because of all the deaths that have surrounded me this past week.