Southern Belles

One of my cousins-in-law posted this on Facebook and tagged each of the girl cousins in it. We laugh, because she's nailed us completely. Bless her heart.

I better post it now and have my fun, because when they all see what I said about Scarlett O'Hara in my column for Meridian, they are going to disown me. You don't disrespect Scarlett in our family.

But we do laugh when Carol Burnett does it!

 

Feliz Navidad, Y'all!

Happy Christmas!
I must admit I am enjoying the lovely 50+ degree weather here in Southern Virginia this week. After years as a child of hoping and praying for a White Christmas, and never having my wish come true, and then moving to Utah where we get our fill of snow and then some, I have to say, I am perfectly happy with a very evergreen Christmas.
Christmas is always a personally introspective time. I'm torn right now between writing the travelogue of a post you might expect, full of meals and gifts, or writing what is really on my mind- which is how hard it is to be single during the holidays.
I'm going with single and the holidays, because I know there are a few of you out there who feel the same and probably need to hear that you/we aren't alone.
First of all, I want to go on the record as saying I love my family, both immediate and extended. We all fit in with our families in our own special way. And nothing I am about to say has anything to do with whether or not they accept me and love me. I know that they do. And I know that never has anyone ever tried to make me feel the ways I am about to describe.
But its tough being single on major family holidays, isn't it? I think Liz Lemon said it best on 30 Rock a few weeks ago, "When your mother kindly explains that they thought by now you'd have your own family and traditions for Christmas, and they wouldn't still have to be including you in everything."
Being single on a family holiday means finding a place to sit in between the children, the adults younger than you who have their own children, the adults your own age who have their own children, and the adults who call you their children. Because that's what family holidays are all about, aren't they? The children!
Christmas morning loses a lot of its luster when there aren't little children anxious to see the tree and open presents. (We slept in till 10 this morning, and nobody had to be told to keep away from the tree until Mom could find a camera.)
I'm not saying holidays can't be enjoyable and full of love. In fact, you realize even more as an adult how much of a sacrifice you are willing to make to be with the ones you love and participate in your family traditions. Especially when you are in a place in life where you aren't getting to start traditions of your own that you always thought someday you would do.
This year while I've felt no depression or anxiety over the holidays, I've been more acutely aware how so many people might. I'm happy and ready to move on to my next phase in life. I'm anxious to make some of my biggest goals and dreams a reality. In fact, the longer I sit here in Virginia, with my hands tied as to the future, the more I want to just get back to Utah and get on with it, DANG IT!
So single friends, I'm thinking of you right now. I hope you are happy. I hope you are finding what works for you this year. And I hope more than anything, you never let the lack of a man in your life hold you back from getting what you want.

Virginia is for Lovers (and Family)

I'm back in my home state. It was surreal landing at DCA, and then driving past Arlington, past Falls Church, past Fairfax, past Oakton, and past Centreville. We just kept on driving for 4 more hours, past all of the towns I call home. And now I'm in Roanoke with my family, in our new house, in a new town, trying to get used to things.
On top of all the major family life changes going on with this vacation, I'm also attempting to work from home full-time during this trip. Let's just say that is easier said than done.
But today was great! My cousin Karma stopped by for a visit with her 3 kids. Karma and I never get time alone together anymore, so that was a fun chance to sit and talk. And then we headed over to my uncle's house for family home evening (after much debate over who has the better tv and surround sound for watching "The Dark Knight"). I got to talk shop and visit with my cousin Jon, his wife Sarah, and hold my other cousin Matthew's new tiny baby Zachary. And really, when was snuggling with a tiny baby not the hallmark of a great day?

 

Baby Zachary won't be the reigning baby for long around here. At 3 months old he has 3 baby girl cousins hot on his heels, ready to be born. We're hoping for Baby Abigail to make an appearance this week, and then 2 more little girls are expected to join the brood in February. (And I'm really hoping for new tiny cousin Baby Abigail to be born this week before I leave town. Come on, Tami,  just have this thing already!)

Being in a town with so many relatives definitely has its advantages. But it is a huge change- especially for the single, old maid of the family who lives on the other side of the country from everyone. I'm certainly not used to all of this. But it is fun, I will admit it.
Now, if I could just adjust over to the Eastern time zone, things would be fantastic. Unfortunately it is 1:38 am right now, and I am wired, in spite of taking sleeping pills. I may be forced to add Nyquil to the mix as well.

I'm from the 703, that means I'm kind of a big deal

I was standing in a parking lot earlier today, about to get in my car, when suddenly some man with a small child called out to me. First instinct- flee. But I stayed because he looked harmless and had a little girl. He asked where I was from in Virginia.
My answer? "DC"
He laughed and said, "That's not VA. Where are you really from?"
It's a Northern Virginian thing to say "DC" instead of their actual town. If someone asks 'what part' you know you can get specific. Conversely, if someone asks me if I'm from DC, I say, "Yes, Virginia side." Again, not until someone says 'what part' do I get specific. Even then, I never quite know what to say.
In order I have lived in the following parts of Northern Virginia-
birth- Arlington
3-5 years old- various parts of Falls Church and Merrifield
5-10- Fairfax City
11-16- Centreville/Clifton (the differences between the two towns and why I grew up with a Clifton address, but claim Centreville is only understood and appreciated by the rest of the Wildcats)
17-19- Oakton
at which point I left for college for 3 years in Utah
22-25- various parts of Falls Church and Fairfax
left for Texas for 1.5 years, came back and...
25-27 - Fairfax and Falls Church again, but by now my parents had moved to Fredericksburg
27-28- various parts of Virginia, Florida, Romania, California, and the Czech Republic
28-30- Arlington
31-32- Falls Church
33- Utah

I may be off a little bit with some of those ages. Actually, I'm probably a lot off. But you get the point. I never really know what part of Northern Virginia I'm from. I think it is safe to say I can claim Fairfax County a little more than most. (Even if Arlington County still thinks I should be paying them property taxes on a car I only owned for 2 months while living there.)

So back to the guy in parking lot. He had just said "That's not Virginia." So I laughed and said, "Arlington." He laughed and said, "I guess you can claim DC then!" Naturally I asked what part of Virginia he would be from. He was raised in Winchester, a town I dearly love.

Why did this exchange take place? Because I had Virginia license plates on my car. Sadly, ten minutes later I had to put my very expensive Utah plates on my car. If I hadn't, my landlord would have towed me tonight. (I could go off on a rant about the completely inaccurate and annoying situation it required to get plates. But I'll save that for another day.) Now how will people know I'm not a Utard? I liked being a Virginian still. It made me different. I do still take great pride and comfort in my "Virginia is for Lovers" bumper sticker. But now I'm going to look like just another Utard who doesn't know which one qualifies as the 'fast/passing lane.' (the inside left lane people- the LEFT, not the middle)

*Sigh* I'm homesick.

(Kudos to anyone who knows where the title line came from!)