Have you ever been to Florida? It's a criminal population. It's America's Australia.

Florida is all humidity, sun-baked palm trees, six-second showers and heat that smothers around you like a thick, heavy blanket.

It's big bombastic thunderstorms that rattle the windowpanes and cause car alarms to blare. It's rain so heavy, you can't see five feet in front of your face. It's the nostalgia and familiarity of Jason Davis and the Elevator From Hell. It's driving 20 mph on 95 due to the weather, singing along to non-offensive pop rock from the 90s and Steve Miller's Rockin' Me over and over and over again.

It's trying to surprise your mom but failing (thanks for keeping the secret, asshole) and walking into her work shouting, "Hey lady! How much for a shirt?" It's remembering just how tiny your Mom is. It's giving your dad a big hug and surprising yourself by getting teary-eyed over how much you missed the guy.



It's the world sweetest, smartest dogs -- Phoebedog's noises, Maya's wagging tail, Nala's big brown eyes, bellyrubs, stinky kisses and stealthy poops.



It's hugs-hugs-hugs-hugs, new jokes with old friends, apologizing for apologizing for calling one of your best friends a bitch while playing video games, dirty words on the board at Lush Manor, margaritas, Sparkletinis, berry vodka with soda while watching your memories flicker on screen and listening to the craziest, dirty-dirtiest hip hop.



It's homemade Indian food and the constant pestering to eat more, gossiping until midnight, the omnipresent prattle of the Indian satellite channel and watching Mom go gangbusters on bugs with her broom. It's the world's most comfortable couches, the head-nodding lullaby of the fan and raindrops hitting the big window, discovering ancient Judy Blume books in your old bedroom and laughing hysterically at Just As Long As We're Together and Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret.



It's Spanglish on the radio, reggaeton blaring from souped-up Hondas, the excitement of discovering Jarritos in plastic bottles, it's talking about the space-time continuum from Lost and the grandfather paradox at the kitchen table and seeing condoms and pregnancy tests next to one another in the clearance aisle.



It's home. It's family. It's your heart. It's never wanting to leave but knowing you can always come back.