During the first week of finals in early December, I received a student
scholarship to attend a conference in Daytona
Beach, FL. This trip meant
several things: warmer weather,
the sun, and wonderful people to meet.
The conference was for only two days and it provided me an opportunity
to not only learn about what's going on in rural health, but spend the weekend
visiting old friends who live in an area of Miami Beach, commonly known as "SoBe." After a heinous,
five-hour drive (all due to the combination of geriatric retirees, tourists,
and insane 'the Fast & Furious'
wannabes) in myrental car from Daytona Bch to South Beach, I finally made it to our friend's, J, high-rise
condo. To my surprise, J's 7 months pregnant! (I found out when we first hugged and I
notice her pronounced belly.) J
wanted to surprise me and, boy, was I shocked! The 'preggers bug' is going around, I informed J: first
her, then my sis-in-law...I kept the crossing my fingers in superstitious hopes
that I won't catch 'whatever's lurking in the water making people pregnant.'
The following day was spent soaking in the view of ships
going in and out of the Port,
catching-up on 'girl talk' over Pizza
Rustica pizza and Ghirardelli
chocolate samples on the infamous Lincoln
Ave line of restaurants and bars.
The Floridian sun was intoxicating and it didn't feel like Christmas
season or even December: there were
wild lovebirds pecking at grass below a menorah and driedel made entirely of
seashells and erected in the midst of the restaurant's large umbrellas. Shortly after lunch and yogurt from Tasti D-Lite, J & I spent the rest
of the afternoon lounging by their condo's pool watching the sunset and cruise
ships go out to sea. Later that
night, hubby arrived into MIA and
just the two of us spent the rest of the evening and night in Beacon Hotel, an art deco hotel on
South Beach. Though the night
hours were filled with middle-age drunk folk attempting to make it to their
appropriate rooms, M + I spent a restful night in each other arms. 
The following morning, we woke up to bright sunshine and
headed out for a walk in front of our hotel on Ocean Ave. After a
brisk stroll, we went back for breakfast and checked-out. Arriving at J & Y's condo, J made
us fantastical Cuban coffee, extremely
strong and delicious espresso of which both M+ I are now in-love with. The rest of the day, we visited the Miami Seaquarium and we may have gotten
a slight sunburn from the "usual winter weather in SoBe."
On our last evening in Miami Beach, we watched the sunset
from South Pointe Park and shared a
sushi dinner at Hiro's Sushi Express on
Washington Ave. with our gracious
friends.
M + I bid our farewells to J & Y and to each other, as
we boarded separate planes: me
back to St. Louis and M to Washington, D.C. The trip to Florida was a blessed reprieve
for our long-distance marriage. I
got to spend time (even if for a moment) with my husband. Every memory or moment I've shared with
M, I am reminded of how little time we've had together during our first year of
marriage. In any case, my opinion
of long-distance marriages remains the same: regardless of how you attempt to sugarcoat it, they suck.
