Ode to St. Auggie’s

I feel the need to blog. Why, I do not know, because “Teen Mom” is on and I shudder to admit that it’s my favorite show of the moment.

The amazing Lady L and I packed up her furry four-pawed wonder and headed north to St. Augustine for the weekend. It was the perfect amount of time there — the town was tiny and charming and the people were absolutely lovely.

My boss refers to St. Augustine as “South Georgia,” because Southern hospitality is alive and well there. People make eye contact with you, and the servers are attentive, and not only are you never waiting for a refill but your server will ask you if you want a to-go cup so that you can enjoy your beverage as you go off on your next adventure.

It made us realize that South Florida? Blows. It’s just plastic and fake and rude and barely tolerable for nice Northern girls. If northern Florida is South Georgia, then southern Florida is South New York.

I will be spending my now-fourth weekend away from home this weekend. Yeah! I’m happily hanging out with my fur-nephew again at his palace by the sea. I prefer vacationing with him and his mom, of course. Even if his tiny 20-pound puppy butt takes up the middle half of the king-size bed while we cling to opposite corners.

My cat is slightly irritated at my absence, given the UEOEH’s proclivity to dance said cat around the apartment like a marionette. Also given that said dog ate said cat’s dinner and then peed in her dish for good measure. But, the further away I am from my roomie, the happier I am.

Work’s been good although I should probably stay up all night to deliver a project I’ve been promising for two months. Due tomorrow. Sigh. It’s not that I’m NOT working — it just keeps falling to the bottom of the “urgent” pile.

Anyway, we loved St. Auggie’s. LOVED. It’s a place to take someone you enjoy hanging out with. Even someone you downright adore. I could retire there someday; I loved it that much.

I still want my summer home to be in Vancouver, and I can always return to South Florida to attend to the business that Lady L and I plan to start. But to eat French and Spanish food in a town where everyone (even the ghosts) are friendly (minus those nasty spirits in the Old Jail), I could live happily ever after by the Matanzas Bay.

Especially if our business employed my mother a good four-plus hours away!!!

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