And So It Begins….Again
Hey Gals,
I did it!! I finally quit my job and moved to the beach, my dream come true!! You all certainly have been the keepers and holders of my vision for some time. Thank you!! Now that I’m here I’m wondering why in Goddess’s name would I want to be where the living attire requires a couple of strings and a few ties. EVERYONE is fit! EVERYONE is beautiful. That leaves me fit to be tied. Crinkles above my knees, boobs that dip below the allotted space, just what am I supposed to wear? Well at least my toes look nice. And you don’t need much closet space.
The guy at the deli told My Guy he better get me home before my mother knows I’m out. I’m not sure if that was a compliment. I rebelled against the whole Yes Ma’m thing in Greenville thinking it more like a determination of (old) age. I began to embrace it when I realized I could get doors opened for me and special treatment in stores. Oh, who am I kidding? I began to embrace it when I reached the magic tipping point. Southerners seem to know innately when you cross that invisible line into Ma’m -hood, Shug, Sweetie, Honey, all terms of endearment for the aging. I realized it’s also a sign of respect. Now here I am at the beach, and I can’t get a Yes Ma’m anywhere. What!!! I want it back. I want to be Yes Ma’m’d and given all the extra sugar that goes with it. Where’s the respect around here??
We actually started spending more time here in the winter before we moved officially. There’s a movie theater down the road, one of the only things open at the time. It advertises as a bistro/ice cream parlor as well. We walk in, and a young Eastern European guy behind the counter asks us what we want. We say we are here for the movie. He acts surprised like that is the last thing he expected. I notice the popcorn machine is empty and express disappointment. He says, oh, you get that over there through the door. He gives us our tickets. We go through the door at which time he pops up behind the counter, takes our tickets and gives us our popcorn and soda. He then opens the door to the theater and says he will be right back, he has to turn on the projector. We are the only two people there. Another theater- goer joins us a little later. Eastern European Guy, cute I might add, returns promptly at movie’s end and ushers us out. He asks how we liked the movie. We did, we say. Other guy didn’t he said. I liked it he says.
I’ve learned parking lots are very dangerous in season. No one seems to look in their rear view mirrors before backing up. Everyone’s in a hurry to get the beach vacation started, I guess. I decided it’s safest to park at the end of the lot and walk to the store. Of course, walking could be dangerous too.
My new hair stylist has blue hair and wears a hat. She examines my hair like a doctor going into surgery, lifting, prodding, looking underneath, getting up close and personal. She asks if I mind if she takes a picture. No of course not. My hair is damaged and dry and needs special treatment. Okay. The owner says she doesn’t want to presume that I drink in the middle of the day but would I like a Sangria. Would I like a Sangria? Of course!! My Gal says it would be abnormal for people not to drink in the middle of the day here. When in Rome…..
She takes an after picture and shows me the beauty of her creation. I gave her the head. She did the art. So beautiful is her creation that I tell her I will not wash it until my next appointment.
And so it begins……my life at the beach.
Goodnight from…..
Dyanne
Dyanne is an inner wisdom coach, psychotherapist, writer, mind-body healer, Integrative Yoga Therapy teacher, certified “Journal-to-the SELF” instructor and creator of http://www.holywhollyholey.comhelping women heal and step into their power. She is the author of the ebook, “Holey Path to Holy Living: A Women’s Path to Healing and Freeing Sacred Feminine Power,” which can be found on Amazon and on her websitehttps://www.amazon.com/Holey-Path-Holy-Living-Feminine-ebook/dp/B01MUI0OOJ/ref=sr_1_13?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1486652110&sr=1-13&keywords=holy+path
