This post was submitted by Kareem

Dear Readers,

I’m really sorry for the sporadic posts over the past few weeks. The holidays aside, the past month has been pretty crazy for me. I was recently offered a job in Tampa, Florida, in the line of work I have been trying, desperately, to get involved with for almost two years. I initially turned down the offer, convinced I was not ready to leave DC, my new home, for the sunny, swampy Everglades of Florida. I’d take pandas and elephants at the DC zoo to alligators and flamingos any day, thank you very much.

But when the job was offered again, a few weeks later, with a bumped up salary and other benefits, I had to stop and reconsider. Since I have no concept of Florida other than a trip to Disney World when I was very young, I convinced myself that I couldn’t possibly make an informed decision until I had experienced Florida, if just for a weekend. On a whim, I bought a ticket to Tampa and headed down. Despite being massively hungover from my office holiday party and the escapades that followed the night before, I miraculously made it to my flight the next morning and nursed the Worst Hangover Known To Man while soaring high over Virginia, the Carolinas, and other southern states. The thought of natural Floridian electrolyte-rich coconut water kept me motivated as I connected flights in Atlanta.

Being the frumpy, awkward Pennsylvania native that I am, I ended up walking out of the Tampa airport into the eighty-three degree and sunny Tampa “winter” in boots, dark jeans, a sweater, and an exhausted grimace and squinty eyes.However, despite being initially horrified at being taken to a piano bar my first night (all white customers with a black Santa light up doll that some wild animal women thought was deserving of lap dances. Ugh…), I found myself falling for the charms of the city. Anyone who knows me can attest to my undying love of all things fish taco, a commodity that is in no shortage in sleepy, humid Tampa. With each cafe con leche in a cafe in Ybor City, I found myself more and more interested in experimenting with Tampa, if just for a year. Florida was everything I was not accustomed to and it started to become more exciting as I found myself in more and more strange awkward situations.

On the day I was to depart Tampa for DC, I found myself in the airport, sipping coffee next to a retired couple, while I smiled, ear to ear with the thought of returning to DC and to the life I love. But as the engines roared and we rushed down the runway and upwards, I had to reconsider. Moving to Tampa would be an adventure. It would take me out of my comfort zone and throw me into a life I cannot even try to understand. I had never turned down adventure before, and now wouldn’t be different. My new job would promise a foot in the door to a career, a real career, with money and promotions and opportunities, the majority of them being back in DC.

After arriving back in DC and riding the empty metro into the city, I took the long, windy, cold escalator up and emerged into December in Dupont. I braced against the chill and thought back to Tampa, weird and silly and different. With a heavy heart, I made a decision.

So there it is. I’m moving to Florida. I still have a hard time saying it out loud. My friends have pointed out my excessively heavy sighs after I mention anything Florida. It pains me, really truly pains me, to leave my home. But I’m determined that it will only be for a year, at most. A year at my new job would set me up for a perfect transition to DC, with a career and hopefully a pretty solid tan.

So Tampa, get ready. This is going to be a fun year, damn it. I look forward to seeing what being single is in Tampa.

And as for you, DC, you haven’t seen the last of me. I’ll let you have this year to rest, but get ready. I’ll be back before you know it. And it will be awesome.

Love,

Kareem

PS – Expect posts from Florida. And if any of you know anybody in Tampa, please hook a brother up! See you soon, DC. I love you.

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