Ending Summer in Miami

I have been to Miami a handful of times in my life and each time it is to go to a concert or festival. I have no desire to be in the Miami that people want to display and engage with on social media. Reread that and remove the pick-me voice you added to that sentence, cuz that aint it. We already broke the bank to fly, lodge and attend the event. Ain't no way you gonna see me in the after party (that costs more than the concert) or the day party brunch. Between navigating poverty, poverty mindset, desiring rest and getting older it just ain't me right now. Partially because no one is helping with the finances! 

The Breezy Bowl aligned with my best friend Brittiney's birthday so when tickets went on sale I swiped up two floor seats. Don’t even ask me the price baby, just know I had it when it was time to be had. You know when you spend money and set plans months in advance for a dopamine hit? Yeah, that was me.

When we first talked about the trip coordination we said Tuesday-Saturday because I wanted to drive. Baby, when them planes was dropping at the beginning of the year I was shook. Months went by and I agreed to fly, but failed to suggest that our stay should be shorter. So, here it is, Saturday afternoon, I am pooped and we ain't even did much. I am such a homebody. I think because I present like an extrovert and bring such a unique vibe to any experience people have an expectation of me that simply is not reflective of the real me. 

Even when I was a child I wanted to be home. I would go to a sleepover and call my mom to pick me up at all times of the night. People can come to my place, absolutely, haha. 

[This is my first blog post, and for folks who don’t know how I talk. I am from Paducah, KY. I have family in Mayfield, KY. And, I have lived in Georgia, Mississippi, and West Virginia. I currently live in Louisville, KY’s West End. Look that up for yourself, haha]

Three things imma do when I travel is eat good Black owned food, get an Asian massage within walking distance, and REST. When we landed Tuesday morning and I hit up my bestest mensch Jay. He took us to Bacon Bitch. A Black owned restaurant I can resonate with, bitch. We walked around Bayfront Park, spent time working (Brittiney napping) at the hotel pool, and had dinner at World Famous House of Mac. 

At some point this day we downloaded Facebook Dating and exchanged laughs but nothing came to fruition. As a paranoid person who has been date raped and continues to watch murder mysteries specific to “women in their 30s who live alone” I will never meet someone from an app. No shade to those who do, I am damaged. But the entertainment allowed time to pass. Looking how I look, men always have an idea of who I am or may be. Like most things, men are often wrong about me.

Wednesday morning I woke up and spent hours poolside listening to Freddie Gibbs’ Alfredo 2 and Deante Kyle’s patreon episode 10, and Grits and Eggs podcast “Impact vs Influence”. Catching no sun. Why was the pool awkwardly located, not on the rooftop, and grabbing no rays? We walked back to Bayside Park and had ourselves a caesar salad. Niggas love a caesar salad. I had one pretty much every day I was here. I am eating one right now with an espresso martini sub King Duncan cuz they swore they didn't have bourbon. 

I took a nap and we made our way to the Breezy Bowl. Got our lil wristbands, swag bag and headed into the lounge. If I go to a concert or a festival I am purchasing the VIP package. Not for the aesthetics but at my big age I am paying for convenience. Short to no lines for entry, easily accessible A/C, bars and clean restrooms, plus we gettin front row footage that I can watch and rewatch because it is mine. Sadly, my lil iPhone is getting “old” in iPhone years and this was my first time realizing I either need a new phone for better camera quality or a new fucking camera. I probably wiped those three camera pieces 70 times, like I was blowing into a Nintendo cartridge. Nothing got better but I felt productive. 

I used to be a Chris Brown superfan. You probably were at some point. I did not miss a CD drop, merch or tour from 2005-2012 but I took a break from financially supporting him until this year. I ain got no daddy, blame it on that. I’ll link that story in later lord.

When I tell you this nigga think he Michael Jackson, believe me. I haven’t seen him in concert in over a decade so I was not ready for this mf to pop up out the ground and just stand there. We is not passing out, play ‘Run It’ and let’s get this shit goin! Baby, I was not disappointed at all. He clipped two cords to himself and WENT FLYING AROUND THE ENTIRE ARENA all while still singing and dancing. I don’t spend much time admiring men but this nigga is a fuckin enterainer!

We walked for about twenty minutes, until my feet felt like I was walking on my ankles. I could feel a blister forming on my lil piggy and my feet was sliding in my “comfy sandals.” We worked a full shift at Breezy Bowl and paid too much for a one mile Lyft back to the hotel.

The next day my friend turned 40 and we spent most of the day in bed, just how she/we wanted it. We had an amazing dinner at Nobu (another thing Imma do when I travel) and found our way back to the hotel. I stayed up all night making episode one of the T For Talking and paid for it the next day at Haulover Park. Had my naked ass laid out tryna lock in the melanin and get an even tan. Dicks and moose knuckles were everywhere. I am too childish for it. Had to keep looking down.

By the time we made it back to the room, I booked a massage and was on my merry way. These mfs pulled a number on me, and I let em. I asked for a 90-minute massage. Sixty seconds in I felt an extra set of hands on my feet. This mf whispered “30 minute foot massage?” Whole time I’m like, “hell yeah, how much?” But, the truth is I was already sold. I needed that foot massage. 

We waited until the last minute to grab a shitty dinner in walking distance. I got a text around 10 PM about a club and was already in bed. So, again, here I am at the hotel bar ready to go back home. I am self-diagnosed AUDHD so I am in “waiting mode,” which means because my flight isn’t until tonight I am totally stuck and cannot see myself doing anything until then.

Obviously this blog post isn’t “about” Miami or Chris Brown; it’s about how I move through space, choose joy/rest, and negotiate reality vs. performance.

“Everyone has problems they have to live with, not just me.” Ruby to Stan Season 3 Episode 1 of Good Girls