limeade slushes & holding the door open

or
a reflection on growing up in the south

*the reader should note the writer Does Indeed recognize the difference between the deep south & texas. there are pertinent & important differences that can & should be elaborated on by someone (not me). but for the sake of this "piece", the author will call texas "the south"...be able to handle it, as we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone.

so, with the old job, i used to go to arkansas at least a few times a year-and i was always surprised how driving out of the airport & seeing fields of cows & open space made me kinda smirk-y. i wouldn't have expected it, as i rarely go to home, and don't visit texas unless on a transfer flight (sorry mom). this is not an accident. i left my home state in a whirlwind of rancor & angst...never quite feeling right about it & never accepting my time there as anything other than a prison sentence. when i packed up my uhaul & finally got out, all i could remember was how i loathed every last detail.

so why the clandestine smiles when i get back to the south? am i repressing pleasant memories? do i (gasp) actually like things about growing up white in america?

i think the change first starts to get my attention when i am putting my carryon into the overhead. i go to slug my 80 lb (clearly surpassing the weight limit) suitcase & i feel it lighten immediately... wtf??!? my suspicion increases...i start to think for whole seconds that all of my shit has been siphoned through the torn front pocket...when all of sudden-BAM. i get it. that guy 14 rows back saw little ole me lifting something other than a fan or sweet tea to my lipsticked lips...and ran up to help me.

chivalry.

oh yeah...that was that thing where guys help girls out. scary feminist take these symbolic gestures as signs of an overriding socialized bias of female fraility. no, no, no. i always took the door being opened for me, being the first to leave the elevator & help with heavy things as just fan-fucking-tastic. i forgot about these southern men & their manners & how warm my blushing cheeks feel.

i like that.

i become more wide-eyed as i am greeted by the first stranger walking opposite me in the airport terminal. "how're you doin' t'day?". it always takes me 3 or 4 of these interactions before i remember this is what people who don't know one another do. oh yeah-and everyone makes eye contact. especially the opposite sex. age, race, amount of botox...it doesn't matter. you make eye contact. oh, and you smile. that's a big part. (i recall my very-different-opinion of this behavior when i left the state many years ago...all this namby-pamby smiling...because these southern smiling idiots are silly-headed ninnymuggins. with cotton between their ears.)

now i'm all dopey smiling back.

more later on this topic, gotta stand in line for mr. plane.

regnat populus

hotter than a really bad metaphor for something warm-like a gnat's ass or hell or fill-in-the-blank.

yes. it is hotter than any crap analogy.

h.
o.
t.

i must say, however, even though i have scrubbed all southern twang from my voice, as well as all tragic texas social tenets...there is something comforting about a town surrounded by fast food, walmart & gas stations with 60 oz. beverages. you don't get that in california.

the last frontier

i've arrived.
the state that brought us "into the wild" & "white fang".

my first observations of anchorage:
*cold
*silent as the grave (my talking on the phone was the loudest sound for miles & miles-at one point i guffawed & am certain i heard the entire town gasp.)
*cold
*so many gift shops i can't even begin to relay the scope & magnitude...(my favorite store-"once in a blue moose"...no, not kidding.)
*internet slower than dial-up
*officially, the edge of the earth. i would try to sell this idea to you, but will rely instead on my mad photography skillz to capture the scene in the upcoming days.
*it is 9pm & brighter than noon in the city (not exaggerating).
*if my mom doesn't get here soon, i am likely to blind myself staring at the snow flurries

(reader, please note, i am blogging NOT because i am unable to be in the moment...i am waiting the arrival of the mom, and have nothing to do, other than watch crap tv, stand in the snow storm, or hunt for an elk to mount on a wall...which i may do, if i can't think of anything else to say.)

oh the places we will go...

night night, from alaska.

the throw-up demon (or "how i almost got pummeled by a 93-year old woman with 2 black eyes)

today was something else.

jenny got a wicked stomach flu, which meant most of the day was in & around a beige, plastic trash can-with a plastic bag liner. that & excruciatingly-difficult - to-watch-jenny-pain-tremors. @ & around the 83rd time she was going for broke & barfing up her insides-i was looking to provide some kind of reassurance or support. what do you say? "this really sucks?" "man, first your leg, and now barf-town?" nothing seemed really right, so i settled with the cliche "if i could take it from you, this relentless puking, i totally would." i followed up with a molly-esque disclaimer "but this is absolutely theoretical since it's an impossibility...how would that even work? a barf angel who flaps his chunky wings & grants vomit-trades? would he/she/it be a fairy? or more of an ogre type variety? good or evil?..."

i kept hypothesizing until she laughed. (but she puked again anyway, despite my courageous attempts to call in tinkersmell. sigh)

so before jenny faked napped to force me to leave the house & "get file folders" (she knows me too well...just the thought of organizing made me spark right up), & she knew i wouldn't leave until she was "asleep" (i bet she is capable of crocodile tears too...if she can fake sleep...tricksy, very tricksy...)-we talked about my new lens (if you can still follow this sentence...). i really want to be able to take candid pictures of strangers, but lack the confidence - i sometimes even hate lugging out my camera, for fear of not-fitting-in, or being a huge dweeb-o. but with my new stalker lens...well...maybe i could play the professional photog-role & maybe get away with being a peeping-tom-of-a-kind.

i finally got up the nerve, because i could NOT walk away without capturing this woman...2 black eyes & black lipstick. she saw me take the picture (even though i was super top-secret agent-like...i guess subtlety is not one of my strong suits.) she kept saying "blah blah blah spanish blah-LINDA-blah blah blah." well "linda" means "beautiful" in spanish-so i am not quite sure what message she was trying to get across. i played the dumb american card-which sometimes comes in handy when being charged by what is obviously a tough old bird.

back to vomit-town.

i'm here (or, cuidado. los autobuses son peligrosos.)

arrived today-after a harrowing nose-picking seat mate (not exaggerating, it was brutal, i will try to launch into that after a good night's sleep & as soon as the nausea goes away) & all the preparation it took to actually make it (yes, this was attempt #2)-i am on a new continent.

i feel like magellen. (now all i need to do is make a map...)

more later about my adventures inside jenny's head (& vice versa).
vaya con dios.

non, je ne regrette rien

going to see my friend jenny. (trip to argentina...take two...smack of the arm on that hollywood-scene-announcer-wooden-thing).
can't wait. viva spontaneity.