365 in 305

Some more thoughts on Miami and adulthood.

featuring a set of rodeo photos that I edited poorly

Growing up is a whole lot of "You don't know until you know." There's no worth in beating yourself up for not understanding something that you haven't done before. I've never been 22 prior to being 22, therefore I can't possibly know what it's like to be 22.

I miss Maryland. I miss D.C. I miss walkable communities, and free museums, and seasons, and gay bars that I can metro to. When I leave Florida, I'm going to miss Cuban food, and iguanas, and people who seem genuinely interested in creating a variety of affordable housing options that don't enhance racial divides. There's a piece of me everywhere I go.

Equestrians are corny.

Y'all know which meme I'm referring to

I'm making more money that I ever have, and I have more bills than I've ever had. Some day, I hope to not be rent burdened. While we're on money, there's absolutely nothing wrong with dropping cash on a pricey hobby, especially if it's something that genuinely makes you happy. Furthermore, there's absolutely nothing wrong with dropping money on plants, no matter how many of them you accidentally kill over the course of three years.

I love my car. I hate driving, and I loathe driving in a place where nearly everyone is a crap driver. Mind you, I am not a good driver by any means, but I can say with confidence and certainty that I am the best driver in this whole city.

I'm still figuring out how to properly grocery shop. Pro Tip: the Dollar Store is your best friend, Aldi is your other best friend, and Target is your very generous sugar daddy that has the most affordable price on popcorn. Shopping around has given me some sense of a budget.

And if you're desperate to feel fabulous, try a Dollar Store manicure

There's no easy way to say this, but Miami isn't . . . real. This place has never felt tangible. When I was young, my goal was to move to Florida by the time I hit 30 years old. Now that I've done it, I'm not looking to stay. That isn't to say that Miami is a bad place. It's just not my place. It almost feels as if south Florida exists in a world entirely separate from everywhere else and doesn't align with any type of rules or ideas that came to be elsewhere. This just isn't where I belong.

And, not to sound like an old lady, but there is nothing on God's green earth that will convince me to download TikTok.