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Before I Moved to California
Nov 18th, 2017 by Dr Karma

Before I moved to California, I had never

had Indian food

had decent wine (you know, the kind from a bottle instead of a jug or box)

met an out kinky or poly person

had gin

met a Hmong person

had goat cheese (or any good cheese, really)

had lamb

had been able to send my son to a school where they had enough money for classroom supplies like toilet paper and thus didn’t make each family buy a big list of stuff

tasted Thai food

met a Jewish person

had Vietnamese food

experienced a drought

known there were “asian” pears–and that they’re awesome!

had a good tomato that hadn’t been refrigerated prior to serving

seen heavy snow

seen an apple in the grocery store that wasn’t a Granny Smith or the ironically named Red Delicious

met an out transgender person

understood how black and white my upbringing had been

tried Afghani food

had to think about writing less American-centric prompts, since I only had American students

met a Sikh person

felt an earthquake (although it was so minor that I thought it was the neighbors waking me up with exceptionally brief sex that shook the wall)

had the opportunity to join a union

gone wine tasting

had access to healthcare as an adult

 

Some of this is because I was in Florbama . . . there are more cosmopolitan areas of Florida.

Some of this is because I was raised fairly white trash. It’s probably possible to get decent wine and cheese in Florida–I just didn’t see it.

 

But still–I had never had INDIAN FOOD!

If I had consistent access to grouper out here, y’all, I might never go back home.

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Florida, this is hard to say, but . . .
Feb 1st, 2011 by Dr Karma

Florida, I’ve known you since I was a kid. I grew up in your underfunded schools. I started working at age twelve, serving your sunburned tourists. I’ve let you try to blow me away in your hurricanes.

In 2000, I said we should start seeing other people, so I moved to California. You see, when I lived in you, I couldn’t have health insurance for two reasons. First, you abhor unions, so even though I had a job that was unionized in most every other state, you wouldn’t let me. Second, since I didn’t have job-related insurance, you allowed insurers to turn me away due to my pre-existing conditions.

(Also, you were covered in hicks, and they kept trying to touch me.)

Right after I left, there was an election, and I voted absentee. You decided that my vote shouldn’t be counted.

I’ve come back to see you, though–to have your glorious fish and to marvel at your inhabitants, who see absolutely crazy weather changes and somehow deduce that this is proof that there is no global climate change.

Now you’re trying to use the court system to veto something that the majority of Americans still support–the health care bill.

Don’t you want people to live long enough to retire to you? Well, I guess just the rich people–you don’t want any poor people moving there since you have so many of your own poor people already.

Florida, I think it’s time for us to truly part.

Send us your homeless children, so they can be adopted by gay couples, since you would rather they stay homeless.

Tell all those rednecks with confederate flags on their trucks that they’re right–the South will rise again–right now. (In fact, import more of those people from the surrounding states before you go.) And then let them have you.

I might even get a visa so I can visit my family in the “Republic of Republicans-Only Florida,” as long as you can guarantee my safety from political persecution.

Goodbye, Florida. (If you’re wondering, it’s not me, it’s you.)

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