Daydreaming about Savannah on a beautiful Panhandle morning

If you didn't already know it, I'm a transplant. Not born here, not raised here, can't even claim a year of residency. However, this town has been kind to me and I've enjoyed the whopping eight months I've lived here. And while I typically mull over to-do lists and other such responsible topics during the morning drive, today I daydreamed of Savannah, Georgia, whilst belting out my favorite Air Supply songs. (Give me a break. They're in my range.)

I was born on the Georgia coast and spent the bulk of my life traipsing around the Southeast the youngest member in my military family. There's a fixture in my heart for Savannah, not only because it's where my life began but because it's a town that represents everything truly Southern - from the coastal-inspired, deep-fried food and the plantation homes on every square to the modest yet modern fashion worn by folks with impeccable manners. I was there two years ago to celebrate my birthday. The trip was so fabulous that I spent a considerable amount of time trying to figure out if I could stuff Spanish moss and a bowl of shrimp and grits in my suitcase. I would tell anyone to go at least once.

Savannah also happens to be a home base for some of our corporate offices, and when I heard rumblings yesterday of several people going to my birthplace, I went from raging jealously to attending my own private pity party to daydreaming about the time I've already spent there. Perhaps, one day, the higher-ups will need a lowly assistant to carry their bags in the airport and I'll get to go to Savannah again. I'm not above it. I'll take notes and grab coffee and run errands if need be. It makes no matter to me because a trip to Savannah is always worthwhile.

So are the shrimp and grits.

--Jennie