Why Does This Look Like the Ghetto?

That was the question I asked a Miami policeman as I pulled up for gas at 3:30 in the am after dancing and frolicking with my new friends. His answer? "Because it is the ghetto." It seems I missed my exit. I can always get somewhere it seems. It's just the getting home that's been a problem. That reversing mapquest thing that usually works at home doesn't seem to apply in Miami. Note to self for next visit: print out the coming AND going back. Luckily the very nice policeman didn't arrest me or chastise me or anything like that. He gave me directions. But first, he pumped my gas. Yes. Really. He did. Can you imagine? That was about as shocking as having men buy me drinks and food. Clearly there's a different vibe working in this city. Or I'm working a different vibe. It's so hard to tell. Now I'm sitting in the airport trying to kill 3 hours. I missed my plane. Two hours sleep just wasn't going to happen. The Continental phone lady told me I had to get to the airport within 2 hours of missing it to get on standby without having to pay more money for a new ticket. So here I sit. I have internet access so that's good. I'm hiding behind this shrub because there's a random guy who wants to buy me coffee and said he'd be looking for me. I'm too tired for coffee. And conversation. And a random guy. I think there are a lot more men in Miami or something. I don't know how else to explain all this attention.

Did you know there's a sushi bar in the Miami airport? With a legitimate sushi chef. Not some white guy masquerading as one. And they have a hotel and lobby and bar. It's kind of interesting. The whole airport culture. How each one is so different. Anyway. I saw Palm Beach Gardens, Miami Beach, Boca Raton, Coconut Grove (that was the ghetto), South Beach and Aventura. I've seen a lot of malls. Done a lot of driving. Alot. I don't even drive that much at home. I winged it a bunch. I stayed at a Best Western and a Courtyard Marriott. I got bit by bugs in each. But only accosted in one. I took some walks on the beach. Saw bars and dance clubs. Saw bars and dance clubs where everyone was 35-55. I didn't even know those kind of places existed. I don't know if they should. Kidding. I think it's more that I don't want to be at a place like that when I'm on the older side of that age. It feels sad. That being said, I like Miami. I want to come back. We'll see what happens with the Boscia of it all. I booked things as if I could and would be coming back. But it's not the same any more. There's no Caren. The reason behind it is gone. The motivation. I've continued to apply for jobs. I'm still going to sell things I own. I'm more okay with it now. The world seems a bit bigger and a lot more fun. So we'll see what happens with everything. With my life. With finding funds to live sans donations. I thought it was a fun idea, but maybe not so much. Good concept but poor execution perhaps. I think I would have to have a hook on the blog. And I don't really know what that would be right now. How to sell skincare? Inside Sephora? How to talk to strangers? How to stay single when you don't want to be? Well, for now I'll just keep doing my thing. Typing and talking to randoms. And with any luck, by the time I land I'll have a strategy.