Yankee in the South

Eric's father loves to tease me about being a Yankee. Although it's not usually used with the most love, in this case, it is. I used to take offense, but then I realized just how proud I was to be a Yankee. I was born and raised a Massachusetts girl and wouldn't have had it any other way. I love the Red Sox, Celtics and Patriots, probably more than any girl should. I have three brothers so I kind of ended up being more of a fourth boy than a girl. (That is NOT a complaint!)  I live for sports and never even knew what makeup was until a couple of years ago. I confess that I still don't do much and I have no intelligence on the subject. I can clumsily put on some eye makeup, but that's as good as it gets. My skin is usually alright so I don't have too much need for concealer and powders, but I do have a popped blood vessel on my nose that I just can't stand to look at. I hate that I can see it in every picture of myself. It's one of those reminders of the  mistakes you make while you are younger. "Don't pop your zits," my mom would always warn. What does she know? She never had a zit in her life. (Truth.) I can't go to school with this huge thing on my nose, so popped away I did. It kept coming back, and I kept popping. Well, now I have a permanent red dot to remind me about all the other times I didn't listen to my mother when I so obviously should have. You were right mom, and I'll never forget it as I'm raising my own daughter someday.  I'm starting to feel more comfortable about it now. Confidence is something I've never lacked, and I have both of my parents to thank for that. Although I admit to being confident, I'll also admit to having a couple of things that bug me. Yea, I have a small red dot on my nose, but it's just another thing that makes me unique. I'm over that one. Yea, I don't have perfect teeth, and that used to always bother me. It bothered me up until last year right before my wedding. All it takes is a loving (at the time) fiancé to tell me that he loved my teeth and I was fine. They aren't perfect, but who wants perfection anyway? What a bore that must be. Every girl has doubts about herself and it takes finding their match to make them forget about them. My biggest tribulation? My hair.

Years ago, for no apparent reason, I started losing my hair. Imagine the havoc that wreaked on my confidence. Of all the things that can conquer a girl's confidence...hair loss...at age 20? How unfair the world seemed to me. I wasn't just losing a little. I lost my entire left eyebrow, most of my right one, and a few substantial clumps out of my head. I have thin, long hair. It clearly showed that something was 'wrong.' Each day I woke up with more hair on my pillow. Every time I brushed my hair, more fell. It fell out in class.You can't help but everyone is watching, even when they aren't. I tried everything to make it come back. I took every kind of steroid you can dream up, used creams that burned and turned my skin red, and the worst of all, I had cortisone injections in my scalp. Over a hundred of them. I can't explain the pain. I knew they wouldn't work, but I couldn't sit there and just let it happen. I'm proactive, not a victim. The last doctor I visited told me that most of it was probably stress and my mental attitude about it. I wasn't stressed, so it came down to attitude. Throughout the ordeal, I started becoming the type of girlfriend that I hate watching girls be. Needy, jealous, distrusting, you name it, I was living it. I was reading his emails and having my friends tell me where he was. He never deserved any of it. He stuck by me when anyone else surely would have left. Then one night, he sat me down and said the most loving thing a boyfriend could say. "I love you. You don't seem to have a problem with the fact that my hair is going to fall out in a few years, so why would I care if yours fell out? I don't. I'm not leaving." That, my friends, is the moment I fell in love with Eric Miller. It was such a short statement, but packed so much power. We were still young, and he used the words, 'in a few years,' which showed me so much commitment. He was going to support me no matter what, no matter how hard it got. The next day, I went off my steroids, decided I would embrace it, and I swear it stopped falling out the minute I decided I was fine with it. Attitude is everything. I am a believer in that now.

It turned out to be alopecia, a random act of hair falling out. The doctors couldn't really explain it or tell me what to expect in the future. Some people go bald and it never grows back, some lose a little and it doesn't grow back. Some regrow it, then lose it several more times. Some lose it once, grow it back, and that's that. That's what my scenario is, or has been anyway. I don't know if it will ever fall out again, but if it does, I know how to handle it. I know exactly what I'll do. Watching my aunt go through chemo, and seeing so many cancer patients try to hide their baldness the way I hid mine, I gained a new perspective. I am still in awe of the courage of women who proudly display their bald heads. "I am a woman, I am bald, and I am still strong," is the message it sends. If it ever happens to me again, I hope I can be so courageous.

Wow, tangent. I do that a lot so I hope you won't find me difficult to follow. Back to New England. I think summers in New England are unmatched, as are the falls. Perfect temperatures, and incredible foliage. It's a photographer's dream place. I suppose you could also say that winter and spring are unmatched, but it wouldn't be in the same way. Each winter you can expect at least fifteen feet of snow, usually more. The snow isn't so bad, it's the ice that makes it tough. Driving is scary, but once you get experience it's not so bad. All you have to do is take it painfully slow and expect the occasional fish tail. Winter is beautiful, until the first salting of the roads. The beautiful pristine whiteness turns into a dirty, sandy brown mess until April. The springs are overwhelmed with rainy days, one after the other, and the occasional thirty degree day. You endure these seasons cooped up in your homes, getting to know your family and friends better than you ever thought you could. Finally, summer comes and we flock outside to get some sun. Eric hates the cold, and he hates winter in general. I am glad to have grown up in a place that truly has four seasons. I love skiing. It's one of my favorite activities, and without winter, I never would have learned. My favorite childhood memories with my brothers revolve around winter. Snowball fights, playing tackle basketball outside after a fresh powder, the most incredible snow forts you have ever seen with tunnels and everything, and the most ridiculous 6 foot (and taller) snowmen in the backyard, only because dad didn't want us to mess up the front yard. Winter is a dream for kids, so I hope I can raise my kids around the snow.

Although I loved growing up with the snow, I have been totally delighted with the weather in the south. I can't help but rub it in to my friends and family up north. The weather is literally perfect here, and they are still so very cold. The cold will stay until at least the beginning of April, where the torrential rains will start. No snow here. No rain here. It is just beautiful. I love the weather here, at least for now. I'm not a fan of rampant humidity and 100 degree heat, so I'm hoping my first  full summer in the south will take it easy on me! Someone will just have to get a boat, and then that struggle will be conquered. Weather is definitely something to love here.

Another thing to love is obviously the food! Momma Miller cooks for us all the time, and I admit to being extremely intimidated at the thought of  being a married woman in the south. So far, it has me defeated. I haven't cooked many times, and a couple of the times were just downright awful. One time we threw it away and went and got Zaxby's. Ego shock there. I guess I just have to take off one bite at a time instead of expecting myself to just pick right up and be as good as Eric's mom is. That will take years, if it's even possible at all. I need to formulate a plan, and right now I'm just clueless.

Next topic is hospitality. I have fought many a person on this. Northerners are not rude. That's a terrible stereotype. Northerners are excellent, loving people. However, I will admit that when you are in line at a grocery store in the south, you will meet the person in front of you and behind you, whether you want to or not! They just wreak of friendliness. People just love to talk to strangers here and make them feel welcome. I've had a few bad days and had them turned around by some stranger telling me I looked beautiful today, or cheer up, you're just so pretty when you smile. In the North, sometimes we go around with blinders on, so focused on the next task in our busy life, that we don't want to necessarily want to initiate a conversation with Joe Blow in front of us. I love the friendliness of just about everyone here. It makes me smile more and more. Smiling is contagious people!

I'll leave it at that for now. I will try not to write a book each time I blog. This was my introduction to the blogosphere, so, here I am! I truly hope you like it.