I wish those red taillights *were* heading to Spain

Goddamn chipuni! His recent blogging about visiting Barcelona has really made me wish I were flying there tomorrow. But, alas, a family vacation to Europe is a tough sell for as long as my sister's children are whippersnappers rather than sullen youths. So West Palm Beach (or just "West Palm", for those in the know) it is.

Spare me your climatical sympathies! When I was young and foolish, I used to regularly go home for my birthday. "Home" is St. Louis and my birthday is in August, so Florida in July holds no terrors--at least as far as heat and humidity are concerned. Hurricanes are a different matter, but they hardly ever happen, right?

I intended to pick up some Florida history--or at least some Hiassen--to read while I'm down there, but I somehow never got around to it; the selection will presumably be better locally anyway. There are a lot of things I never got around to. Between wrestling with the iPod (rollick, you don't know how I've been putting off adding new music because of the management it would demand) and Project Runway (curse you, monshu! curse you forever!), several things which were supposed to happen last night did not, in fact, happen.

I'm feeling rather underprepared, but I'm taking as my guiding principle the good ol' "There's nothing you really need that you can't buy there." Of course, I've never really been great at assessing the relative cost of the misery of doing without something vs. the misery of Paying Too Much, but my sister should be able to rub some sense into me. At least I've already printed out my boarding pass (Group A--go ahead, I dares ya), which--provided I manage not to lose it in the next fourteen hours or so--makes up for a lot.

What It Takes to Make My Evening

1. On the way home, I spotted a cicada crawling across the sidewalk. I'm not used to seeing them come out before nightfall. I stood there to make sure it made it across safely, but then I began to wonder if my presence was counterproductive since it froze whenever I made a movement. A woman came by with a young child and asked me, "What did you find? Is it a roach?" No, a cicada. So she set the girl, who had just woken up, down on the pavement and told her to go look at it. When she wouldn't, the woman called her a "chicken liver". Then the girl pointed out another one crossing another stretch of sidewalk. As I left, they were sprawled out on the pavement watching them.
2. Cutting through the alley with my groceries, I came across a clutch of Pakistani youngesters practicing cricket. The bowler couldn't've been more than 3 ft. tall. When they saw me coming, he called to the others and they all respectfully stood to one side while I passed by.

There were other little incidents, too: A chat on the elevator, sympathy for my freaky neighbour over his sweet but injured dog, etc. What they all had in common was people simply being nice. I don't think it's anything in the air. It must be my attitude: I'm getting myself into the vacation frame of mind, which means opening myself up to pleasant experiences.

Oh, one more thing: I called my father to let him know that I'd be taking the train from the airport and found out that he and my stepmom were willing to wake up early after two full days of driving in order to drive across the width Florida just so they could pick me up. If anyone wants to know why the hell I'm going to South Florida in July (and missing the Gay Games as a consequence), well, that's it in a nutshell.