The Hot, Hot Heat

I'm now in Florida!

And it's hot.

My boyfriend and I are slowly settling into our new surroundings. We've had fun exploring the various local restaurants and Florida-only chains. Our new local grocery store is very GF friendly so I am extremely happy. The move itself was uneventful. I got a little teary as I crossed the Indiana/Kentucky border, I won't lie, but I am excited about what's ahead for us.

So far, lots of knitting. It's hard to find a job when you don't know the area, you don't know anyone, you don't have a car and the public transportation system in the city you live in is laughable. My boyfriend and I were driving to meet his parents at a restaurant near the beach (I can say things like that now) before they had gone home from helping us with the move. I saw the first bus I had seen since moving to Florida and it was stopped. We stopped at a light near the bus and I tried to figure out why the bus was stopped for so long. The driver then stepped out of a convenience store close to where he had parked the bus. He stopped the bus, in the middle of his route, to get a drink. Laughable.

So I'm knitting. A lot.

I've already finished two socks and started a third multiple times now. I want to do a self challenge sometime where I knit a whole pair of socks in two days. I think I could. Both of the socks didn't take too long and the second one could've been finished in a day if I hadn't taken a nap during the F1 race. Maybe sometime soon.

I'm trying to find some sort of job but so far it's not going well. It would also help if I knew what the heck I wanted to do. Sure, I'd love to knit all day but so far I haven't found a test knitter position open, or at least not one that pays. I have been working on my own patterns for eventual publication and hopefully to make a little bit of money but it's slow going. I don't know how other designers do it. It seems like every one of them pumps out a new pattern daily (I'm sure this is hyperbole) and I don't even have one finished pattern yet.

It doesn't help my mood with the fact that everyone I talk to about my move then instantly asks me how my job search is going or what I plan to do now that I'm down here. Each time I'm asked that, I want to crawl into a hole even more and the self pity spiral starts up.

On the plus side, the cat and I are getting along much better than I thought we were going to. She has a history of swiping at me and generally being mean to me so I was expecting the worse but she has been my companion the past two days as I clean up and finish unpacking while my boyfriend is at work. It's been a little nice if not completely suspicious.

This sure was a bummer of a post.

Florida Bound

The past few weeks have been incredibly stressful for my boyfriend and I. He had a job interview at a great company that happened to be in Florida. We're from Indiana. We currently live in Indiana and have lived in Indiana for at least 20 years (I'll get to that in a minute). My boyfriend was so excited about this opportunity and once he got home, the waiting began. Would he get a phone call? Would he get an email? Would they be positive or would they be breaking bad news to him?

Last Friday while we were at work, he got a phone call. It was good news. I jumped up and down as our coworkers looked at us and congratulated us, mostly him, on the great job and pretty perfect location. I ran outside and called my family, the first person I got ahold of was my dad. We talked about  specifics like when and where. We ended the call with him saying, "So, going back to the state of your birth, huh?"

I was born in Florida. I was there for such a short time though that I don't really talk about it, let alone mention it. When we left work that day, my boyfriend asked me, "So, how's it feel to be a Floridian?" And I responded, "What? Again?" My boyfriend of almost four years didn't even know I was born in Florida, or at least didn't remember it, that's how little I talk about it. My dad was in the Air Force and a few months after I was born, we were residents of Wiesbaden, Germany. So, Florida, don't take it personal that I don't really talk about you much when it comes to the History of Leigh.

There are a bunch of mixed emotions right now. I am excited because I have hit my mid twenties and the Wanderlust that effects most post-collegiate grads has hit me hard. I want an adventure. I love Indiana, I love the cornfields and the Hoosier fanaticism, especially when it comes to Peyton Manning. Many Hoosiers refuse to believe that Peyton Manning is playing for a different team although Andrew Luck is quickly gaining popularity 'round these parts. I've lived in Indiana for the majority of my life. There are very few memories that I have from when we lived in Germany, before I lived in Indiana. I'm going to miss this place with its two seasons, winter and summer (or basketball and construction). I'm going to miss local places like Sno Castle and the Park, places you can't replace. The best you can do is find a mediocre substitute. But most of all, I'm going to miss my family and friends.

I'm not worried about making new friends or new acquaintances. When I do want to be around people, I can actually be quite pleasant and enjoyable and I've even been called fun, but that was after most of a giant margarita. You can find new friends, that's not hard. You of course can't replace old ones, the ones that were there to eat ice cream with you after a bad break up, or those who bought you your first Jaegerbomb and you decided it was nasty and that you'd never have one again, or those who you've known since middle school. They can't be replaced, you just find mediocre substitutions.

But what I'm going to miss most of all? My family. We've had our rough spots and times when we haven't talked much or gotten along well but they're still my family. A couple of weeks ago, after my boyfriend had his interview and came back to Indiana, I visited with my mom. She told me about when she left Indiana with my dad to go to Florida. She sat and cried as she talked about leaving her grandmother and about my dad being compassionate, something that doesn't happen too often.

"You'll see her again." He said as he grabbed her hand and she sat crying in the cab of the moving truck.

I feel like history repeats itself and sometimes in very eerie ways.