Since I moved down to Fort Lauderdale from Ann Arbor, MI I have been amazed and sometimes dumbfounded by the visual opulance and wealth that surrounds me. Living on Las Olas Blvd was the height of this for me. Every which way I looked there were huge yachts, Lamborghinis, Chanel handbags, blinding bleach white teeth. For a gal living off a flight attendant salary, I found myself laughing inside at my new found home and the irony of it. Being perhaps at the lowest point in my life at the time in terms of finances, the world around me certainly appeared to be raining money.
Every evening I would take a walk down Las Olas towards the ocean. And all along my walk I would admire the miles and miles of yachts clinging to the Intercoastal. One night, I wondered to myself, if the owners found half as much enjoyment in their yachts as I did admiring them from afar.
As I looked at the yachts in the evening I recall how the moonlight and the stars reflected all around them appearing as a shimmering pool of diamonds. Somehow simple things like water began to look like diamonds, spas became a lifestyle and sitting next to Gisele whilest eating dinner became a normal day for me.
Although it wasn't Beverly Hills, for me, my new life was close enough. Close enough for me to start to see the wrinkles on overtanned skin, the boringness of a Pagani compared to an RV, and how much more fun my family has eating dinner beside me.
Don't get me wrong, I love my new life, in which every day I feel like Jack in the "Titanic" winning the ticket to board the greatest ship ever built. But yesterday after building a floor to ceiling bookcase by hand with my Sister (my sister doing most of the work mind you) I stood back to look at the completed project and felt a sense of pride and beauty that even a pool of diamonds couldn't replace.
