10 Things I Won’t Miss About Miami

I’m all about lists, and have a few in the making. There are so many things I will miss about living in Miami, but here are a few things I’m more than happy to say adios to:

1. Poop. People in South Beach don’t have kids. Instead, they have dogs. Big, dogs, little dogs, dogs that wear cheerleader uniforms, etc. Dogs poop on the sidewalk. Dog owners don’t always clean it up. Though, I sometimes wonder if some of the poop is really dog poop. Over the years, I have seen people poop on the street, and even in the parking garage of my building. Poop is gross. Especially when it’s hot outside.

2. Humidity. Not only will I be saving over $500 a year, not having to buy hair care products to keep the frizz under control, but it will be nice not to break a sweat the moment I walk out the door.

3. Noise. The hotel, next door to my building, caters to drunk college kids. Bad hip hop music 24/7, and non-stop screaming will no longer be my night time lullaby. It will be weird to fall asleep the sound of silence

4. Cuban Food. Croquettes, pastelitos, ropa vieja, black beans and rice, and the cardiac arrest inducing cafecito. I’ve never been a fan of Cuban food, particularly the smell. If I walk into my neighborhood bodega, I often come out smelling like a ham croquette. Not good.

5. Rude people. Pushing, shoving, screaming, and butting in line are basic survival skills down here. I’ll be happy to put these skills to rest.

6. Palmetto bugs. These are enormous cockroaches that fly. Even worse, is the really creepy, crunching sound they make when a phone book is dropped on top of them. My first encounter with one was three days after I moved to Miami. I locked myself in the bathroom, and vowed that I would be moving back to Utah within a week.

7. Memorial Day weekend. Nothing makes me feel safer than having a police watch-tower erected outside of my building. The noise, the traffic, the dirty underwear on the street (I know), and the busloads of people being transported to the local jail just make for a really bad holiday weekend.

8. Bad Service. I don’t know if its because Miami is Rudeville, USA, but the service is heinous. The restaurants on the beach are overpriced, the food is mediocre (at best), and the service usually sucks. Most restaurants automatically tack on a 15 – 20% gratuity, so the incentive for wait staff to be remotely pleasant and/or helpful is null and void.

9. Hurricane Season. I’ve lived through a handful of hurricanes in Miami. Wilma was the worst, and really scared the crap out of me. Especially when the roof blew off of the building behind me. Even worse than the hurricane itself, is the hysteria behind it. Rule #1: DON’T watch the news (especially channel 7). Rule #2: Avoid the grocery store at all costs. Standing in line for two hours, just to buy a few canned goods and toilet paper is as close to hell as you can get.

10. Crime. I don’t think it’s coincidental that the state of Florida is shaped like a gun. The crime down here is out of control. Also, South Beach seems to be a great place for the “Wanted” to hide out. This place is full of cons and criminal. As they say, Miami: Sunny Place, Shady People.

The End Of An Era

Though, I feel very emotional about leaving South Beach in June, I’m also really looking forward to getting out of here.

In June, it will be 16 years since my ex and I pulled up in front of our hotel on Ocean Drive. We had driven all the way from Utah. He was staying, and I was going back to Utah until fall.

I arrived, for good, on October 1, 1993. I was heartbroken about leaving Utah, and scared to death of Miami. My beloved boyfriend forced me to make the most of it. We spent the next few years exploring south Florida with a vengeance. It was like being on a vacation where you actually had time to see everything.

The boyfriend and I split up in 1998, and he moved away in 1999. Today, in 2009, he is still my dearest friend, and this afternoon he is arriving in South Beach to spend five days with me. This will probably be the last time we will be together in the place we called home, together, for 5 beautiful years.

I came here for him. We were so young when we arrived. We grew together, and would not be who we are today, without having had this experience, in Miami, together.

I was briefly explaining our relationship today, and started getting choked up. Four years ago, this week, I entered rehab for my alcoholism and drug addiction. Scared to death, sitting in the hospital parking lot waiting to go in, I called him. His words to me were, “you have to do this, because I need my friend back.”. He will never know what an impact his words had on me.

He gave me the strength to move to Miami, and stay. He gave me the strength to get sober. I’m hoping now he will also give me the strength I need to return home. Back to Utah.

More Time Required, I Suppose

It’s been almost seven months since I found out my boyfriend had a little ‘chippy’ on the side.

It’s been almost six months since we ended our relationship, and he moved his saggy, sorry ass out.

I spent about a month and a half, walking around dazed, confused, scared and hurt.

The next month and a half was full of anger and rage.

My therapist called this the mourning process.

Sometime in November, I woke up one morning and I felt great. I really did. I rarely thought about him, and felt like I was finally able to move on. I felt happier than I had in years. I still do.

I haven’t seen or heard from him in months. I hope to keep it this way. Actually, forever would be nice.

Over the last few days, I have heard stories about him from well meaning acquaintances. They say not so nice things about him (and his chippy). I try not to feed into it, but unfortunately I have. The other day, I had a dream in which I said something awful to him. When I woke up, I felt horrible.

Again, I’m feeling the anger creep up. I’m hoping that he has a truly miserable life, and eventually rots in hell. I can say this on the blog, because this was, and has been, my therapeutic tool which helped me immensely during the break-up.

I know these feelings will go away, and I also know just how damaging they are to me. I really just needed to get this off my chest, so I can let it go.

In June, I’ll be gone. The worry of running into him and seeing him will also be gone. That’s a really comforting feeling.

As always, thanks for listening.

Ch, Ch, Changes…….

The last six moths of my life has consisted of MAJOR changes, that a year ago, I never would have imagined. As of now, I have the attitude (and hope to retain it) that it’s all good.

The latest change occurred last week. Due to downsizing at my beloved newspaper, I am being laid off. I will work until the end of April, then I’m done. After that, I hope to take about 6 weeks or so, to wrap everything up in Miami, maybe do a wee bit of traveling, then head back to Utah.

Yes, I said it……It looks like I’m going to be moving back to Utah. I will miss Miami in many ways, but am happy to be getting out just in the nick of time. Besides the horrendous summer weather, the economic situation down here is brutal. I know it’s bad everywhere, but this town has been hit really hard.

The job is what brought me to Miami, and has kept me here for 15 years. I never meant to stay here as long as I did. And, the thought of growing old here depresses the hell out of me. As far as Utah goes, I don’t feel like I’m running home. I feel like I’m returning, after 15 plus years, as a grown-up. I still have 3 living grandparents, and have missed my niece and nephew’s entire lives. Now that I’m sober, clear and present, I finally feel like I have a lot to contribute as far as being a member of my family. For this I am grateful. Returning to Utah is something that I once would have scoffed at. Today, it seems like the right thing to do.

In July, I’ll be turning 40. Recently, I have taken to saying that I will be spending my 40th birthday, unemployed, living in my parents basement. I get a huge kick out of saying this. Things could be so much worse. I don’t know what my future holds, but I’m excited to find out.

To be continued…….

My Ass Isn’t Worth A Dollar

I live in a town full of people who live on the streets and are constantly asking for money. Sadly, I’ve become very accustomed to it, and no longer even bat an eye. Some days, I barely make it outside of my building, before I’m approached. If I have some change, I’ll give it. More often that not, I don’t give.

Last time I gave money to someone who asked, I was very sorry. As I was digging for change in my purse, the woman farted, loudly . By the time I reached the change, I was gagging from the noxious fumes that emitted from her ass. It was not a pleasant experience. Actually it was pretty fucking gross.

The other night, I was coming out of the drug store. As I walked out, a crackhead very aggressively got in my face, and demanded that I give him a dollar. His approach startled me, so I shouted, “NO” at him. As I was walking away, he yelled, “Fine, but you still have a nice ass.” He still didn’t get a dollar, but I almost got hit by a car, crossing the street, because I was laughing so hard.

I really do love my shady little town. That said, I’m leaving for Utah tomorrow, where I more than likely will not be approached by any crackheads. In Utah, I always seemed to be accosted by small children with snotty noses and sticky hands, who never even mention my ass.

Addicted

My Name is Amy, and I Am An Addict…..

I am really coming to realize that I am addicted to so many things. I’ve been drug-free for over four years, and alcohol-free for 3 and a half years (today). With this, comes a lot of growth and self-realization, all because of the enormous amount of work, I’ve had to do on myself, in order to stay sober. Unfortunately, my disease tends to manifest itself in other ways. Especially, when it comes to men. Apparently, I must always have at least one potential guy thing going on at all times. This was all fine and dandy, and it was working very well with the Italian. Until, feelings started to surface on both of our ends. We are both terrified of getting hurt, so we both took a step back. This wasn’t so hard for me, because I had a few other guys waiting in the background. I still see, and talk to The Italian, just not as often as I was.

At the beginning of the year, I began to dabble with, and unfortunately romanticize, a long-lost love. Mistake. The baggage, major issues (his untreated alcoholism) and heartache that came along with it, ended up bringing tremendous hurt and pain to both of us. The initial rush I got from him, ended up turning into a jarring electrical jolt that really knocked me on my ass. In some ways, I feel like I’m back where I was a few short months ago. Not as devastated, but just very sad and disappointed. Again.

I also had another little deal going on, with a guy here in Miami. We’ve been crushing on each other long and hard. Sparks fly when we’re together, and we finally had dinner together two weeks ago. It was great, He’s great, which scares me. I figured he was too good to be true. I figured right, seeing that he apparently has a very beautiful, very young girlfriend. Oy.

My addiction to men is now rearing it’s ugly head. Because I’m disappointed in all of them, I feel very blue. There is such a strong urge to get out there and do some hard core flirting this weekend, because that’s the fix I need. Why am I happiest when I have multiple men to choose from? Is it the high? Is it the drama than ensues? The high, I get from this is not unlike the high I got from cocaine and alcohol, which scares me. The good thing is that I’m aware of it, and I know I can do something about it. I just need to be willing, which is the hard part. Sigh.

That said, I’m leaving work early to act out on my shopping addiction. Have I mentioned the high I get when wearing a pretty dress? Tomorrow, I plan on indulging in a healthier addiction…..baking. Since it’s Valentines Day, I can’t think of anything I would like more than to bake treats for all of my lovely friends, while wearing a pretty dress, of course.

25 Random Things About Me

I’ve been tagged numerous times on Facebook, with this post. I decided to do it. Whether I post it on FB or not, is a different story.

1. I love the taste of Pepto Bismol. Kaoepectate is pretty good, too.

2. I’ve been employed at the same company for over 15 years. I think they kind of like me.

3. Lately, I’m really starting to appreciate the many things about Miami that used to annoy the crap out of me. Excluding the ever present aroma of pee.

4. I’m linguistically challenged. After many years, and a lot of money spent, I’m still only fluent in English. I can occasionally eke out a weird French/Spanish dialect, and am fairly proficient in Spanglish.

5. After a bout with Guillain-Barre Syndrome, I spent 2 months in a wheelchair, and had to learn how to walk again.

6. I’m stone cold sober. It’s been a few years since I’ve had anything stronger than a club soda.

7. I don’t eat fast food or drink soda. I haven’t touched either in years.

8. I’m a really good cook.

9. I’m an even better baker.

10. I have a posse of ex-boyfriends. A few of which, are now some of my best friends.

11. My best friend is an ex-boyfriend, who I was with for 7 years. We broke up 11 years ago. We are in constant communication, travel together, and tell each other EVERYTHING. I can’t imagine my life without him.

12. This time around, I’ve been single for a little over 4 months, and am very happy about it. Being alone is really good for me right now.

13. I’m going to turn 40 in July. Surprisingly, I’m really looking forward to it.

14. I’m being actively pursued by an ex-boyfriend. He keeps telling me I need to grow the f*&! up, get my skinny ass back to Utah, and f *&$%ng marry him. He is such a romantic.

15. I’ve never been married. The older I get, the more terrifying the thought of it becomes.

16. My birthday, 7/11, falls on Free Slurpee Day.

17. I have over 40 dresses hanging in my closet.

18. People are always shocked to find out that I’m originally from Utah. Apparently, I come across as a New Yorker.

19. I’ve never lived in New York, but I’ve spent a lot of time there over the last 20 years. I try to visit every 2 to 3 months, except in the winter.

20. I have an outgoing, yet off beat personality. I’ve always made friends, easily. I also keep the friends I make. Many of my friends have been with me years.

21. I still have 3 living grandparents. They’re all in good health, with sound, solid minds. The youngest is 85. There is definitely something to be said for the Mormon lifestyle.

22. I was brought up Mormon, but stopped practicing as a teenager. Mainly because spending 3 hours in church every Sunday, didn’t appeal to me. I also had a problem following the Word of Wisdom. I have a healthy respect for the core values of the church (minus the ridiculous, ignorant stand on Prop. 8).

23. I am very grateful for the time and place in which I grew up.

24. I have 2 cats I adopted from the Humane Society, 12 years ago. They both seem to think I’m the kid, and they’re the parents. Sam & Esther run my life.

25. I have a lot of peace and happiness in my life.

Joey

He belches.

He farts.

He pees in public. He always has. He says it’s ‘his thing.’

He once peed my name in the snow.

He likes to fix things.

He loves hockey.

He wears a ridiculous baseball cap.

He also wears mismatched tube socks.

He’s addicted to The Weather Channel.

He calls ESP, ESPN.

He’s a really good son.

He’s a terrific father.

He rocked my world at 16. I was 14.

He was my best friend at 20. I was 18.

He rocked my world again at 21. I was 19.

He broke my heart at 22. I was 20.

He broke my heart again in 1993, when he became a father, and married someone else.

He said I broke his heart in 1991, when I fell in love with the really great guy who took me away to Florida.

He held my hand at the funeral of a friend in 1993. I was weeks away from moving to Florida.

He walked away from me, after the funeral service, and I wondered if I’d ever see him again. My heart shattered into a million little pieces.

He and I had no contact for over 15 years.

He answered the phone when I called him four weeks ago. I was in town for the holidays.

He came out and met us.

He made us laugh hysterically.

He gave me a ride home.

He asked me out on a date. I said yes.

He called me when I got back to Florida, to tell me that he missed me. I missed him too.

He called a lot. He texted a lot.

He flew out to see me last week. He brought his skateboard, frisbee, and hacky sack.

He cried when we talked about our past. I did too.

He broke my heart when he left on Wednesday.

He’s coming back to see me in two weeks.

He asked me to marry him.

He said he will wait as long as it takes for an answer.

He may be waiting for quite awhile.

It’s Raining Boys!

So, it seems I have boys on the brain. This is nothing new, of course.

The Italian is beyond adorable. There are so many thinks I like about him. From his love of Mountain Dew and Pork Rinds, to riding around on the back of his scooter, to the great conversations we always seem to have. Our “is what it is”, “there is no us” statuses seems to be slowly changing, which scares me but also amuses me.

He plays softball a few times a week, and keeps asking me to come watch him play. I keep informing him that I’m not that girl. That girl, being the girl who adoringly watches the guy play his boy sports. Since we aren’t boyfriend/girlfriend, I think it’s funny that he keeps asking. Monday night, I again didn’t watch him play softball, and for that I’m glad, because he ended up with multiple injuries.

Tuesday morning he called me and asked me if I could bring him some pain reliever. I jumped in the shower, threw on some shorts and a T-shirt, and went to the store to get what he needed (including Mountain Dew). The poor guy was limping around, in horrific pain. I was thrilled that I was the one he called, and even more thrilled to be able to do something nice for him. I guess we’re really growing on each other. I saw him briefly last night, and slept like a baby after he deposited me at my door with sweet little kisses.

On Sunday, I have a former flame from Utah coming down to spend 3 days with me. We reconnected while I was there over the holidays, and have been talking a lot. We’re basically going into hiding, and spending a few days talking, eating and hanging on the beach. I really care about him, and have always had very deep feelings for him. I don’t know what’s gonna happen, nor am I going to worry about it. I’m just happy that he’s coming to see me. I’ve know him since I was 14 and he was 16, and am excited to show him the place I’ve called home for over 15 years.

The Italian knows I have a friend coming into town, and also knows I’ll be out of the picture for a few days. He is so non-intrusive, which makes me like him even more.

I really care about both of these guys, and could possibly see my self with either of them. It’s nice to have choices and options. I just need to be very careful, because the thought of having to hurt either of them pains me greatly.

Resolutely Single

My New Years resolution for 2009 is to stay single. Already, it’s a challenge, but I really need this time for me. The Italian is still in the picture, and is absolutely fantastic.

I just returned from spending the holidays in Utah. While there, I contacted, and saw, a blast from the past. Many text messages and phone calls later…….old feelings are stirred up, I’m confused, and really fucking glad there are about 12 states between us.

So back to remaining single…here are two excellent reasons why.

1. I never again have to listen to the Grateful Dead, nor do I have to hear tales of “Jerry.”

2. I can order mushrooms on my pizza, any damn time I want. I might even order an entire bowl of mushrooms to accompany my pizza.

That’s all I have for now. Thanks for listening.