Long time, no blog
In the time since I last blogged, I moved from Montana to Fort Myers Beach, Florida, then to Clearwater, Florida, then to Pigeon Key, Florida, then to Fort Myers, Florida (my third move there), and then finally out of the country to Grand Cayman, Cayman Islands six months ago. It's been an eventful last two years; I hope never to have another two years like the last. I'm totally beat.
So, what's Cayman like? It looks a lot like south Florida -- beach, palm trees, strip malls, abundant lizards, zero topography. Our highest point on the island is "Mount Trashmore," the landfill. I don't find the island terribly scenic, but then again, I've been living almost exclusively in beach communities for the last six years, so I'm hard to impress. The water is better here, though; it's freakishly clear. The first time I went swimming here I found the water clarity alarming, as in, "Oh, shit -- what's that underneath me?!? Oh...it's my feet." The Caribbean Sea is like a really big salty swimming pool...with stingrays.
There are some really inconvenient things about living here. For one, no one from the States ever calls me because it's too expensive. So, that leaves calling friends and family up to me. Instead of paying 50 cents a minute to call from my cell phone, I use Skype and call from my laptop. Call clarity is inconsistent. I just had a tantrum and hung up on my friend because she couldn't hear me, though I could hear her perfectly. I've been craving the sound of a familiar voice and it irritates me that communication is such a pain in the ass. It makes me wonder: do people move to the Cayman Islands and just sever ties with everyone in their home countries? The longer I'm here, the more I realize that seems to be the case... That or they came here with someone -- boyfriend, wife, group of friends -- and they don't feel the need to maintain regular contact with people at home. I came here alone. I don't even have my beloved little dog with me. When I get home from work, either I have a frustrating conversation with someone in the States on Skype or I talk to myself. Neither is very satisfying.
I could bitch more about living here, working here, making really inexplicable decisions about my life, but I've got to save something for later, right? I just wanted to get the ball rolling with writing again. I found a blog today called "Miss Britt," which weirded me out because that's what kids call me (...because it's my name...) and because this blogger was born in 1980 like me and moved across country to Florida like me. Unlike me? She's married with kids and was featured in the Hot Blogger Calendar. I realized today that if I would ever like to be in a Hot Blogger Calendar, I need to actually blog again. I have lofty aspirations.
So, what's Cayman like? It looks a lot like south Florida -- beach, palm trees, strip malls, abundant lizards, zero topography. Our highest point on the island is "Mount Trashmore," the landfill. I don't find the island terribly scenic, but then again, I've been living almost exclusively in beach communities for the last six years, so I'm hard to impress. The water is better here, though; it's freakishly clear. The first time I went swimming here I found the water clarity alarming, as in, "Oh, shit -- what's that underneath me?!? Oh...it's my feet." The Caribbean Sea is like a really big salty swimming pool...with stingrays.
There are some really inconvenient things about living here. For one, no one from the States ever calls me because it's too expensive. So, that leaves calling friends and family up to me. Instead of paying 50 cents a minute to call from my cell phone, I use Skype and call from my laptop. Call clarity is inconsistent. I just had a tantrum and hung up on my friend because she couldn't hear me, though I could hear her perfectly. I've been craving the sound of a familiar voice and it irritates me that communication is such a pain in the ass. It makes me wonder: do people move to the Cayman Islands and just sever ties with everyone in their home countries? The longer I'm here, the more I realize that seems to be the case... That or they came here with someone -- boyfriend, wife, group of friends -- and they don't feel the need to maintain regular contact with people at home. I came here alone. I don't even have my beloved little dog with me. When I get home from work, either I have a frustrating conversation with someone in the States on Skype or I talk to myself. Neither is very satisfying.
I could bitch more about living here, working here, making really inexplicable decisions about my life, but I've got to save something for later, right? I just wanted to get the ball rolling with writing again. I found a blog today called "Miss Britt," which weirded me out because that's what kids call me (...because it's my name...) and because this blogger was born in 1980 like me and moved across country to Florida like me. Unlike me? She's married with kids and was featured in the Hot Blogger Calendar. I realized today that if I would ever like to be in a Hot Blogger Calendar, I need to actually blog again. I have lofty aspirations.
posted by BPDubs at 8:28 PM
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