I have lived in Minnesota for a two years now, and I spend more time at the lakes here than I ever spent on Miami beaches (and I lived in Miami for six years.)

My quality of life is far better in Minneapolis. [...]]]> I go to lake Calhoun several times a week.

I have lived in Minnesota for a two years now, and I spend more time at the lakes here than I ever spent on Miami beaches (and I lived in Miami for six years.)

My quality of life is far better in Minneapolis. Miami is glamorous, but it caters to tourists, the wealthy, and the orange.

I love that I can bike around Minneapolis, take public transit without wearing a gas mask, and study at dozens of independent cafes. Minneapolis is caked in parks, full of amusing immigrants and sub-cultures, and just a vibrant place to live.

I love it, crazies, cold, and all.

The university bought the strip mall, flipped it, and now a pack of luxury apartment [...]]]> Club O-Zone was the only club within walking distance of the University of Miami during my freshman year. The club was in a semi-abandoned strip mall, right next to the Florida Department of Family Services, and yes, it was absolutely hilarious.

The university bought the strip mall, flipped it, and now a pack of luxury apartment buildings sits where I created some of the best memories of freshman and sophomore year. Good thing I took pictures.

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The adjustment to Minneapolis was easier for me than it was for my [...]]]> I hung out with Jorde tonight. I keep a set of Miami-transplant friends in Minneapolis because they remind me that I am not, in fact, crazy. Call us snotty, but we don’t wear tennis shoes with dress pants, or eat at nightclubs.

The adjustment to Minneapolis was easier for me than it was for my Miami friends up here, mostly because I spent 12 years in Wichita. Although I do occasionally rock some Calle Ocho/Lincoln road tacky, like bright pink shirts.

And yes, there’s a blurry blackberry picture of that:

Bam!

My Miami friends also remind me about what I didn’t like about Miami and habits that I try not to exhibit myself: chronic tardiness, over perfuming, and obnoxious reggaeton blasting… although I have been very guilty about the last item lately.

Maybe I’ll rock the neon pink shirt to the first day of school this fall? I also have some micro-floral that I have yet to unleash. Hm.

Pilot: “Do we have any MDs on board? If you are a MD please touch your flight attendant call button. A passenger is ill and we need your assistance.”

Everyone looked around. No doctors aboard. A flight attendant rushed by with an intense looking oxygen tank.

The pilot repeated his request, and [...]]]> The pilot came on the intercom.

Pilot: “Do we have any MDs on board? If you are a MD please touch your flight attendant call button. A passenger is ill and we need your assistance.”

Everyone looked around. No doctors aboard. A flight attendant rushed by with an intense looking oxygen tank.

The pilot repeated his request, and then asked if any nurses or medical personnel were aboard. No takers. Vet techs? None.

I felt pretty useless – “I can offer qualified legal advice!”

We arrived in Minneapolis and waited for the paramedics to fetch the ill passenger. I then stormed to baggage claim and wandered the parking garage¹ for my car.

I hadn’t slept in 24 hours and was in a vicious mood.

I went to the University of Miami the night before. Trisha and I visited our old dorm and caught up on the student-life drammy.

The RAs chirped about homecoming and were freaking out about decorating their floors. Trisha and I looked at each other and laughed. We are both in professional school now, but just two years ago we were fumbling with construction paper and rubber cement. How bizarre.

I think I horrified one of the RAs who is thinking about applying to law school. Gloomy tales of the legal job market – dum dum dum!

After the dorm visit I went to South Beach for Lady Gaga² night at Twist.

Ben and I were posted at the main bar again. Blaring house music, strobes, bodybuilders, and periodic visits by the club’s manager and owner. Ben and I insisted on having a 4-hour³ conversation over the music, so I’m croaking like a seasoned smoker today.

I left the club around 5 a.m. and had a terrifying ride with a cab driver who was more familiar with the gas pedal than the road markings. I then showered and packed for the airport.

The airport was a disaster. The Delta Airlines area was understaffed and chaotic.

The baggage drop line was 100-people deep and crisscrossed the self check-in line. The result was that no one knew what line they were in until waiting in the wrong line for a half hour.

The lines moved at a glacial pace and we slowly realized that there was no way we would make our flight.

So many of us were late that they held the plane for us, but they didn’t tell us that the plane was waiting, so a pack of us tore down the terminal like we were being chased by zombie TSA agents.

After the airport sprint in Miami, the medical dramatics on the plane, and the 30 minute car seeking expedition in the Minneapolis Airport’s parking garage, I was so relieved to pick up Harley from the pet hotel and crash.

I slept for 8 hours, did laundry and some minimal cleaning, and I am going back to sleep so I can make it to work early.

It was a fun, exhausting trip.

Viva Miami, but welcome Minneapolis.

Ben and I are sitting at the bar in Club Twist’s main room. It’s packed. Bodybuilders, tourists, and trannies. Cigarettes and overpriced drinks.

A Lady Gaga remix comes on. We scream in each other’s ears to talk. During the climax of the song, the lights of the bar start flashing [...]]]> It’s 3:30 a.m. I’m in South Beach.

Ben and I are sitting at the bar in Club Twist’s main room. It’s packed. Bodybuilders, tourists, and trannies. Cigarettes and overpriced drinks.

A Lady Gaga remix comes on. We scream in each other’s ears to talk. During the climax of the song, the lights of the bar start flashing like a seizure test. People scream and jump. I look at Ben and say, “I missed this.”

Later I’m downstairs and Carlos is introducing me to a pack of friends, quickly referencing a relationship, job, or affair so I can place the characters.

Earlier that evening we ate at Versailles in Little Havana.

Rice, beans, plantains, and gossip. Versailles is the most famous restaurant in Miami. Every time something happens in Cuba, the news crews go to Versailles to film the angry old men cursing the revolution.

I missed the Cuban food and clubs. I did not miss the $10 drinks or the greasy men¹ in BMWs who only slow down to flip someone off.

I’ve spent the majority of the day watching a Law & Order SVU marathon. I haven’t owned a TV since starting law school because I get held hostage by these marathons.

The last time I watched Law & Order was around this time last year at Jamie’s house. I had just come back from Miami and spent most of my break at Jamie’s place. He’d go to work. I sat around and drinking tea and watching Law & Order.

Law school and work have ruined Law & Order. It’s one huge evidence and professional responsibility disaster, but I watch because it’s break and I’m amused.

Law & Order is permanently associated with winter break. So is clubbing on South Beach and the greasy men in BMWs.

Mom and I went to the P.F. Chang’s in Mary Brickell village. A waitress told us to seat ourselves, and on our way to a table we passed a manager talking to [...]]]> These are some pictures of Brickell, which is apparently overrun with Publix grocery stores. The neighborhood has three Publix stores so far.

Mom and I went to the P.F. Chang’s in Mary Brickell village. A waitress told us to seat ourselves, and on our way to a table we passed a manager talking to a chef.

The manager was annoyed when he saw us:

Manager: “Next time when you come into the restaurant please wait to be seated.”
Me: “We were told to seat ourselves.”
Manager: “WHAT?”
Me: “They told us to seat ourselves.”
Manager: “WHO?”
Me: “A waitress. I dunno.”
Manager: “Well they are smoking crack!”

The manager then stormed off as if he was going to beat the waitress. The chef was mortified and approached our table.

Chef: “Thank you for coming to P.F. Chang’s. We appreciate your business and hope you have a pleasurable dining experience.”

The message was clear: “Sorry the manager is a hot mess. I’m not involved in this.”

Below are some pictures of the area. They are linked to larger photos. RSS/Facebook readers: click here if you cannot see the gallery.

This is the view from my mother’s place on the Miami river:

It’s 66 degrees in Miami right now. My mother says her toes are frozen. I am in an undershirt and gym shorts. It feels like a sauna.

Have fun Minneapolis! ]]> It feels like -17 in Minneapolis right now.

This is the view from my mother’s place on the Miami river:

It’s 66 degrees in Miami right now. My mother says her toes are frozen. I am in an undershirt and gym shorts. It feels like a sauna.

Have fun Minneapolis!

The lights of South Beach are to the right. The Miami skyline is to the left. Underneath us are the mansions of Star Island – P.Diddy’s house – it feels like a shot out of a Pitbull video.

The turbulence was bad. During the worst of [...]]]> It is almost midnight, and my plane is over the bay.

The lights of South Beach are to the right. The Miami skyline is to the left. Underneath us are the mansions of Star Island – P.Diddy’s house – it feels like a shot out of a Pitbull video.

The turbulence was bad. During the worst of it, a woman screamed at her boyfriend: “You are the one who wanted to go on this fucking vacation!” He grumbled. I smirked.

I made it out of the airport¹ and now I’m watching the First 48 at mom’s house. The First 48 is a crime reality show based on homicide units.

This episode features a murder that happened a quarter mile away from my mother’s apartment in Overtown, my high school’s neighborhood. Part of the episode shows a candlelight vigil for the victim. I recognize people from my high school.

Overtown’s crackhouses, projects, and the vigil² are in the shadow of shiny new skyscrapers, and only a quarter mile from the man-made islands, yachts, and mansions.

Poverty, wealth, and camera crews. It’s good to be home.