Dont Mince Words

The scariest thing a woman has to do in a new town is find a hairdresser. It is even harder when you have wavy or curly hair. There’s an art to it. Thanks to Yelp, I found a hairdresser that could deal with me and impart wisdom at the same time.

Kate went to my college and left Richmond just like me. She ended up in Seattle, but eventually came back. She liked the health-conscious aspects of west coast living. What drove her away?  No sarcasm.

“What is it with those people? They just can’t handle sarcasm.” she asked.  I laughed and told her I had the same experience. My solution was to avoid the natives and befriend people from Texas and the east coast. I told her about my first Los Angeles boyfriend who asked me, politely, to stop using sarcasm because he couldn’t keep up and respond to me appropriately.  “You dumped his ass, right?” Kate asked.  Oh yes I did.  From there on out, when online dating, I remembered to ask the important “where did you grow up” question.

So when people ask “you left California to come back here” I can honestly put the lack of sarcasm at the top of the reason list, just above cost of living. I’m home.

The welcome to Virginia sign was a relief after traversing Tennessee.  While Virginia may be open for business, I hope Virginia also has jobs and single, emotionally evolved men over the age of consent.

Dixie and I travelled 2900 miles and everyone was right – as long as she was with me, she was fine.  She looked forward to hotel rooms.  In fact, in our last one, we had to get two queens instead of a king and she ran in and jumped from one bed to another like a four-year old.  Most of the time her dinner was served in the back seat at a rest area.  She didn’t care.  The car was home base and it was on the move.

I’m thankful I had warm weather for our trip.  The same areas we passed through now have ice and snow.  It was a journey I’ll never forget.  I’d like to thank my friends for digitally cheering me on and others for calling to ensure I was safe.  We did fine and now I know – Dixie is a traveller and I was a long-haul trucker in a another life.  Would I do it again?  No, driving long distance through three time zones is not romantic.

Once I got to my friend’s house in Richmond, she told me her dog had fleas.  I figured that out about three hours after my arrival when Dixie was rubbing her muzzle on the bed.  That evening I couldn’t sleep because Dixie was groaning and shaking her bed with the scratching.  I could feel the critters on me and running in my hair.  The next day, bombing and dipping occurred but there were still die hards around.  By Monday I was at the vet and discovered Dixie is allergic to fleas and the vet stated that the house had a severe infestation that was probably present since the summer.  A professional extermination was necessary.  Between that and an un-housebroken Yorkie,  I went home, gave my roommate notice and moved out two days later.

After 17 loads of de-flea laundry, dry cleaning, pills, baths, and sprays, I am now home.  Dixie and I are pest-free and happy.  NOW I’m open for business.

With a good night’s rest, Dixie and I set out to see The King first thing in the morning.  We were there early enough to get lots of dog humilating pictures in before the old folks came for their 10 a.m. tours. The mansion is preserved to its 1970’s glory – lots of shag and lots of gold. I can see that at my mother’s museum. I found the gold records and movie posters more interesting.

Memphis was a splash of refreshing south.  A place where I was called honey and ma’am dozens of times.  With a little time left, Dixe and i did a Sun Studio drive by.  If it were the birthplace of bones, she would have been more interested.

I made a quick run to Beale Street where I was told to have a Blue Hawaiian with a fried peanut butter and banana sandwich. I opted for a local beer and gumbo cheese fries instead.  Afterwards, Dixie and I had a quick hillside walk to view the Mississippi before driving another 340 miles.