Hair's My Secret

I’ll let you in on a little secret.


I totally drop my guard if you brush my hair. Hair brush optional.

It all started when I was a little girl. Forget tea parties. I preferred playing beauty shop.


I was a bald baby and Mother says that when I finally got enough hair for her to gather up into a swirl for a little bow, my big brother cut it off!


Well I’m a big girl now and I still like to play beauty shop. Of course I always want to be the customer.


While in college, my roommate, Angie, fixed my hair for my dates and for special occasions. Heaven ~ I was in Heaven. Angie had a way with hot rollers and a rat-tail comb. And I did forgive her for giving me the high hair that one time. That North Carolinian, whose mama went weekly to have her own hair washed, combed and set, could backcomb with the best of 'em. (Whoever 'em are.)


College Hair ~ Angie's "work"

 I remember the first time I met Angie’s mother. She drove from Henderson, NC, to Cleveland, TN, and the first words I ever heard out of Mrs. Duke's mouth were as southern as sorghum on a biscuit, “I declayah, that cahr ride ruined mah hayah.”

And I don’t even care if you make my hair look good, just do something to it and I am under your spell all yours.


If my husband plays with my hair, I’ll even watch a football game with him. The other night I scooted closer to him and said, “Just do anything to my hair.”


And then I “discussed” the football game with him. I even guessed who was playing by the color of their uniforms ~ The Steelers.


Sure, I may have called them The Philadelphia Steelers but props to me for coming so close.


When we took our road trip a few weeks ago, we stayed with friends. The first night there I was admiring their oldest daughter’s beautiful hair. And then she made me her  customer friend for life when she casually asked if I wanted her to fix my hair.


My daughter caught the gleam in my eye and smirked. Then she answered for me.
“She’s always trying to get one of us to play beauty shop.


She brushed; she smoothed; she curled.


She asked questions.


I answered questions.


We laughed.


I may have shed a tear.


We bonded over the barrel of a curling iron.


Beauty shop puts me in such a relaxed state that I have to be careful not to make promises I may or may not be able to keep.


Last night in a “hair brushing stupor” I raised hopes for a biscuit and sausage gravy breakfast for this morning.




Oops. (We were out of sausage.)

Avery & Me (I even try to recruit him for "beauty shop.")
He'll do a lot for a sausage and gravy biscuit breakfast.
I owe him.

My "Big Girl" Coffee Adventure

(Part 2 of "College Girl Meets Southern Boy" will resume shortly.)

Before
 Big Girl Coffee Adventure

I consider myself a bit of a boring coffee drinker. I like my 2 cups in the morning and maybe a decaf in the evening. However, I do not like sweet coffee. My preferred cup is a robust or extra bold coffee with a splash of real cream.

Take me to a coffee house and I get anxious. It seems everyone around me knows how to order a frappe, latte, mocha, ccino-thingy and I stare blankly at the menu board and ask about the "house coffee."

At the Tampa airport a few weeks ago, I asked for my usual "robust" and ended up walking out with a Tall Italian. (I still laugh to myself about that one. I just think that's funny.)

On facebook I kept seeing references to Starbuck's Pumpkin Spice Latte. Apparently Sbux fans wait all year for this seasonal offering of pumpkin pie with whipped cream in a cup!

Never do I, rarely have Isometimes I don't back down from a challenge and for someone like me who is menu-challenged, ordering a mixed coffee would be quite the personal accomplishment!

I know some of you really don't get it. But you would have to be in my head (a scary place at times) to understand how BIG is this idea of marching up to the barista and casually rattling off my coffee order that included more than ONE ingredient.

Last night I decided that this morning would be THE MORNING.
There is a Starbucks 7 minutes from my house and after studying the online menu many times, I was ready. By the way, do you know that a blueberry scone from Sbux has 460 calories?!

I was amazed at the calorie counts of the blended coffees and realized that my simple cup o' joe has saved me millions of calories over my coffee drinking years. Sure, I enjoy a delicious coconut cream pie and I know a lady who makes the best up in Baltimore. But I guess I enjoy chewing my calories!

That being said, a new friend of mine who knows all about barista-ing at Sbux suggested I actually converse with the expert at mixing coffee flavors behind the counter. Hey...there's a concept worth pursuing. And that's exactly what I did.

But first, to arm myself with caffeinated courage this morning, I fixed myself a cup of coffee. Robust with a splash of cream (20 calories). Yes, I had a cup of coffee BEFORE going to Starbucks for coffee. That just sounds so wrong. But I enjoyed it so much.

And then I gathered up various and sundry items for my errands that I would run with my PSL (that's how we coffee connoisseurs refer to Pumpkin Spice Latte) in the cupholder of my Terraza. (That's my Mom van.) Latte. Terraza. I'm suddenly feeling very Italian. Prego. (Not the spaghetti sauce; they say that a lot in Italy and it means lots of things.)

When I arrived at Sbux and parked the Terraza, I took a deep breath and I think I actually said to myself, "You're a big girl now. You can do this. Go get your latte! And don't forget your purse. And double check that you lock your door."

I marched right in and hovered between disappointment and relief that no one was in line. I told Mr. Barista Man that I had heard tell of these pumpkin drinks and I wanted one. But not too sweet.

And he said, "Ok. Then I'll put fewer pumps in it."
Yeah...that's what I'm talkin' 'bout. Fewer pumps. Which is exactly what my Baltimore Barista FB Friend told me I should request.

Wow. That was easy.
And then he asked what size. I could have gotten nervous here.
But I was cool. I had studied the menu, remember.
Cool as a cucumber or an Iced Caramel Macchiato, I remember my Tall Italian in the airport ~ Ciao, Baby ~ and I reply, "Tall."

And then he hit me below the belt. He offered to give me my drink for free if I purchased the new Via. Did he know who he was talking to? I am the queen of the Publix BOGO. Of course, I'll buy the Via if he is going to buy my Big Girl Coffee! Hook me up, baby. And then he admitted to me that he, too, prefers the flavor I picked ~ cinnamon spice! And I think he meant it.

It was a good deal.

And that was it. Well, almost. I hovered at the ordering place instead of the pick it up place and another barista had to wave me toward the tall round counter. Hey, I was wearing running shoes...and at 5'2 1/2"...all the counters are tall.

I got my PSL and headed toward the Terraza. I sipped and drove and sipped and drove and felt very much like a Big Girl. And for the record, I enjoyed every calorie of my Pumpkin Spice Latte from the Starbucks! I may have even tried to chew a little. Ciao for now!

After
I'm a Big Girl now!