People, places and things

The fabulous Janna, who always has a travel bug, let me know today that the New York Times considers my latest hometown worthy of 36 hours.

Missing from their schedule is "2 a.m.: Admire the view of the News Center from the bridge over the Hillsborough River as you wait for Laura to finish work." But hey, you can't expect them to learn about the city's most-anticipated event after dropping in for only 36 hours.

Probably, to tell the truth, nearly as much as I have been able to learn in three or so months. I've visited several highlights of the Tampa Bay area, including some in the Times piece. (Special thanks to my boyfriend, Jim, for not passing up the chance to take me to Bern's for my birthday. Mmmmmm!)

Tampa is only the latest in a string of many places I have inhabited, with or without thinking of them as "home." And so far the only certain thing I can say about it is "At least it's big."

Which brings up a pattern I've noticed about my various residences. My dad can say he's a proud Roman, as in SPQR and all that. My sister boasts of clawing her way to New Yorker status. Jim is a native New Orleanian. All of those have a nice, unmistakable ring to them.

But let's count backwards here. From 2000 to 2003, I lived on the fringes of Charlotte. That made me ... a Charlatan.

Then I went off to grad school in Gainesville and transformed myself into ... a Gainesvillain.

Now, thanks to my new job (Paycheck! Yay!), I reformed, and became ... a Tampon.

I'm going to put a feminist spin on this and be proud of my new label. Tampons have done a lot of good in the world. And hey, it beats being a maxipad.