My new job starts in 1 hour, 11 minutes, and 41 seconds. Getting a little oogy/nervous. Oh well, I can just pour myself a shot of courage when I get there.
Feeling better today; mainly because I got out of Florida for a while! I went up to St. Mary's, Georgia, and I can't avoid the feeling that I just like Georgia better! It seems more southern, and pleasant. Of course that was a much smaller town that had no job openings, so maybe it's just that I like the small places that I can't afford to stay in. Anyway.
I got to thinking last night about bad boys. I have no idea why. Anyway, I managed to draw a parallel to my experiences in Florida, and on the road in general, to bad boys, and the whole bad boy fixation.
We all know that bad boys have an allure. A very strong allure. A very, very, very... Anyway. We all want to take them by their black leather clad arm, and lead them in the right direction, without erasing that evil glint in their eyes.
The only problem is that bad boys are just that. Bad. Take, for example, pirates. Arrr. Mmm. No one really wants to be robbed at swordpoint, possibly raped, and then fed to sharks. It's not a pleasant fate. But when Johnny Depp does that little swagger...
So here's the parallel (at long last). Florida, in my head at least, has always been the "bad boy" state of America. Slightly seedy, a little dirty, but hot and sexy as hell. I can't count the number of mystery novels I have read that have been set here. Drug runners, murderers, mafia men hiding in the Keys, it all made a very strong connection in my head.
Don't get me wrong; I think Florida probably is like that, at least a little. But I'm too damn smart to find out. I don't go walking down those dark alleys at night. I don't wander into bars in rough and tumble neighborhoods. Just like I know better nowadays than to fall for a badass in leather with a switchblade knife. I'm really not that dumb.
But it all leaves me a little frustrated. Because that draw is still there, very strong. I want to see the seedy side of Sears (sorry, that just popped out, and I don't delete anything). I want to meet a contact in a dark, dirty bar. I want my pirate. Damn it. The brains and the id are doing battle.
So that's me. Frustrated in Florida.
*I dated a good guy that looked like a bad boy once; that worked out quite well. I have high hopes for Jersey*