I've been listening to ALOT of (hot ass) Kenny Chesney lately. I mean alot alot. Like crazy alot. Like every album of his I own (4). At least a couple of times over alot. Like, I'm actually listening to it while writing this post alot.
No idea why...why, while commuting one morning last week, of the god knows how many artists on my iPod I landed on KC and just let it play through all his albums. And then did it again. (and again...). But that's how it started and it's been like an addiction ever since. Perhaps it was fate, or some sort of sign from the goddess or some message from the universe. I don't know.
But since that fateful morning, I've thought endlessly about moving to the islands. Or maybe the Florida keys (since you can drive there and all). Basically about moving to some place where there is a lot of sun. A lot of sand. And a laid back vibe. A no-shirt-no-shoes-no-problem kinda vibe, as Kenny might put it. Now mind you, this isn't some, oh, hippy dippy fantasy land idea of moving, a I-won't-have-to-work and I'll-just-get-to-play-all-day-on-the-beach kind of idea. One of those lottery winning dream kinda ideas. Oh no. This is way more reality based than that. Fuck. I've gone so far as looking into what it takes to join the bar of the U.S.V.I. (I'm already familiar with the Florida bar terms -- score two for the keys: no test req'd). Because what the fuck else am I gonna do, right? (which is a whole other thing I've been thinking about alot lately, but I'll leave that for another day).
Maybe it's because it's been raining for like. fucking. ever. And so now I have a vitamin D deficiency that is causing my brain to seek out the sun or some shit. Or maybe it's regret poking its ugly little head out to fuck with me (ages and ages ago I was had an opportunity to live on St. John but stupid me chose to finish college instead -- what the fuck was I thinking?). Or maybe it's just a touch of ennui. Regardless, all this Kenny Chesney listening, with all his Island Boys and girls from Boston, has left me feeling, well, not quite 100% comfortable in my own life (no, its not the swine flu). And thinking that I'd be more comfortable in a place where I didn't have to wear a jacket. Or shoes. And where I didn't need to use fake tanner because I'd have that I-live-somewhere-sunny look about me.
At first I thought, I must just need a vacation. And then I remembered, fuck, I just got home from vacation like 6 or 7 weeks ago. A sweet ass vacation too -- 7 days cruising around the Bahamas (to the left is just one of the keys we visited). And I haven't worked particularly hard since then (except for the last few days or so, before that it was snooze city). So I'm pretty sure that's not it. But I don't know why else this new fascination with island living.
So here I sit - an inescapable and sort of fuzzy idea of a totally different life floating around in my head. And I have no idea what to do about it. It's not like I could ACTUALLY move anytime soon. My house is worth shit just for starters -- I couldn't even move down the street. That and the whole, what the fuck am I going to do for a living question I was talking about before. Gotta answer that first, I think. Or maybe the two have to be decided together? I guess I could take another vacation, but I don't think that's gonna do it. At least not for the long run. I think, maybe, seriously, that I may be on to something. A (very?) long term something, perhaps. But still something. Something real. I can see it. Sort of. Or maybe I've just completely lost my mind.
In the meantime, anyone know any good realtors in the keys?
Oh, and by the way -- will someone please talk to someone about this fucking rain. I CAN. NOT. TAKE. another fucking day of it. Please. Rain is only sexy in the fucking islands.
(hat tip to D-bud for the Vitamin D reference)