Florida girls stick together. Maybe it's the suntan lotion.

I'm going to go on record here that I like myself. Oh, there are times when I hate myself -- last night, staring down the empty carton of frozen yogurt comes to mind. But, generally speaking, I think I'm pretty awesome. You do, too.

It follows, then, that I like people like me. And I also like people who like me. It's this whole mutual appreciation thing that I'm sure you adhere to, too, when you're not being misanthropic and supercilious. Or maybe you just are misanthropic and supercilious, in which case you like misanthropes who sneer a lot. But whatever. My point is, common ground goes a long way. All the way to Australia, it seems.

I am a Florida girl who's lived abroad with ties to Texas who is liberal, dislikes exercise, loves Publix, and finds solace in blog connections, and so is Florida Girl in Sydney.

The design is clean and uncluttered, though a bit bland. I like the white background and the pink accents (yes, I'm a girl). I'm undecided about the "about me" stuff in the sidebar. It's brief, so I don't really mind, but it might do to have a separate page, much like the blogroll (points for you). The tags could be solidified more: I'm not sure I know the difference between "American in Sydney" and "Expat Drama." As usual, I think the design could benefit from tabs.

This is the blog of a woman living abroad, trying to make the best of it, and logging her experiences. There are some interesting Australianisms. I like the whole "holy shit we're in Australia and I'm trying to like it but it's not all dolphins and cheery accents" vibe. Her introspection and ambivalence and honesty are humanizing and touching.

There are parts that seem like handy helpful tips to other Americans living in Australia, which, though slightly interesting, aren't really for your everyday stateside reader. But I recognize, too, that this is a good way for the Florida Girl to document her Aussie life, whether or not it's particularly riveting. And, as much as I like her, there are some parts that I, as a nonfamily member without kids who prefers pictures of puppies, skip. Though she started the blog last year, it's only been in the last few months that she's seemed to really take ownership of the blog, investing more of herself.

But aside from these few blips, where Laura tends to go on about things that most of us probably don't care about, she's funny and charming and interesting. It's a mommy blog, for sure, but that's not all it is, and it's not of the Stepford Mom variety that we all know and loathe. Laura is lazy, irresponsible, and morally bankrupt, and I like that in a person. And homie don't fuck around with the Disney cutlery, and I got her back on that one. I wish I still had mine.

Ultimately, I really like Laura. I admit to a certain bias: I've been reading her blog for a little while now, and she reads mine. Laura has improved her blogging lately and seems to be hitting her stride. She's getting a bit more personal, a bit more real. We're getting a little more of her personality in that last couple of months, and she's tightened up and told her story with her own voice, a voice I like to listen to.

In my world, there are three types of blogs I like: those that are written by true writers, who capture my imagination and thrill me with their word play; those that are written by people I connect with, who have a personality and humor that meshes with my own; and those that are written by who cares who, as long as they have lots of nudity. Laura's is the second kind, the kind where you stumble upon a friend.

In the interest of dissuading claims of cronyism, and because I think Laura has a bit more work to do to make it to "I fucking love you" land (though I do), I'm giving her:






Keep writing, keep in the direction you're going, watch those ellipses, build up your repertoire of good stuff, tighten up your writing like you have been, and get a little more seasoned and you'd earn that coveted "I fucking love you" seal of approval.

Side note: Christ on a crutch, I'm going to need therapy. These spiders are from hell. And I live in a damn swamp.