welcome to the sunny south

the change was immediately satisfying. the moment i stepped through the automatic sliding doors of the west palm airport (after a few chats with kindly old information lady at the podium) i smiled. then i rushed back into the airport bathroom and stripped down to my skivvies by removing jacket, scarf, sweater, jeans, and shoes - all remainders of a frozen chicago morning at the cta stop. in t-shirt, shorts and flip-flops, with only my overstiffed duffel weighing me down, i hurriedly returned to the bus stop. jed's plane had been diverted by rhode island snow, and he was driving from orlando to meet me. flip on my tunes to the scissor sisters' take your mama--my south florida soundtrack. at the bus stop, gotta find change, ok--ask directions, guess the bus stop nearest the "cool" part of west palm beach, and walk down the street like perpetual tourist i am.

oh, i am so good at finding the right spot in the city. evidenced by numerous magazine write-ups lining the wall, pizza girls will give me the right amount of "patrick, you sure know what's up" and "it's a good thing you skipped buger king at the airport in favor of this diversion." with slices in hand, i was out on the street to wait for jed. with only a hint of chicago still in my mind, i breathe in all of florida's 80 degree humid glory and take a bite.