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Last week, my friend Nilsa wrote a post about the unique culture of her home, Chicago. I was so entertained while reading it, I have been inspired to write my own about my hometown Atlanta. The capital of the South. (That’s right, we capitalize South)
- “Coke” means any carbonated drink that isn’t water or an energy drink. Even then, and enery drink can occasionally be referred to as Coke. Pepsi, Sprite, Fanta…whatever, it’s a Coke. Other places say “soda” (weird) and “pop” (extra weird), but we just want a Coke.
- “Bless your heart.” Seems like a concerned saying, maybe even a compliment. Not so, my friends. This is a back handed compliment (which we have perfected down South). As in, “Bless her heart, she’s from New York.”
- “Yankee” Anyone born above the Mason-Dixon Line, and even people from Florida. And, down here, it’s not a compliment. Everyone from Atlanta knows, Yankees are rude, loud and don’t have any manners. Their mothers’ didn’t teach them right. “Bless his heart, he’s a Yankee, you know.”
- MARTA. Our only means of public transportation. Which is a joke. Pretty much. We refer to it as the train that goes no where. Atlanta isn’t a very walkable city and if you aren’t directly on a stop, you’re screwed. And, it takes forever to get anywhere. I’ve included a map so you can see the full awesomeness of MARTA’s line. The Yankees always call it “The MARTA.” ‘sigh’
- That circle around the map is called, “The Perimeter.” AKA I-285. It’s a highway that goes all the way around Atlanta so if you don’t want to drive through the city, you don’t have to. “I live right outside The Perimeter.”
- Which leads to the next item, OTP & ITP. Inside the Perimeter and Outside in Perimeter. I live ITP which makes me cooler than everyone who lives OTP. That’s just how it is.
- Everyone who lives in a 30 miles radius of Atlanta considers him or herself “in Atlanta.” Those of us who actually live in Atlanta don’t appreciate this. This 30 mile radius is referred to as “The Metro.” As in “I live in the Metro, only like, 20 minutes from Buckhead.”
- Buckhead. How does one describe Buckhead…Buckhead seems to think it’s self the Rodeo Drive of the South. If you want to buy Prada or Guicci, go to the mall there. If you want to run into famous people, there. If you want to way over pay for valet and a meal…you got it, Buckhead! And, if you stay out late enough, you’ll probably see someone get stabbed. Entertainment for all ages.
- We don’t like Florida. There are too many Yankees.
- If you say “I’m watching the game” in the Fall, it’s University of Georgia or Georgia Tech. If it’s summer, it’s the Braves. We love our Braves. In general, we don’t care for the fans from out of town. They don’t have manners like we do.
- Every time the Braves are sucking someone inevitably says, “They won the World Series, ya’ll.” Like 15 years ago!!
- Almost every street is name “Peachtree” something or other. It’s pretty confusing. But we don’t mind. It’s just the Yankees who get lost.
- In Atlanta, you must look everyone you pass on the street, ride in an elevator with, open a door for in the eye and smile/nod & say Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening. We which, to be honest, creeps me out a bit. Southern hospitality is great and all, but pan handlers use this as a great in. But it has been coded in our DNA to acknowledge everyone’s presence.
- We buy manners books and read them. And refer to them when in doubt. I love that about Atlanta.
- It’s still a big deal (somewhat) if your ancestors owned slaves. That proves you had an influential family at one point and your roots go deep. It’s not that we believe in slavery or that is was okay by any means. However, this mind frame doesn’t do anything to heal our huge racial divide.
Little 5 Points. This is the “we’re so artsy we’re dying for it and I have every orifice pierced” part of town. Goths every where. Kitschy little head and consignment shops. It’s a great place to visit. Fortunately, it’s right down the street from my house. Every high school kid in The Metro thinks hanging out in Little 5 Points makes him cool. It’s that season again.
Are there fun and/or unique things about your city?
So. A couple of months ago (maybe wasn’t quite that long ago) Canvas On Demand offered to send me one of their products in exchange for writing about it here. Loving free stuff, I obliged. Gleefully.
Ya’ll this thing is nice! As you know, I don’t give the bold italics to just anything. I sent Canvas On Demand my pic and like, a week later it showed up. I had it sent to my work and everyone was like, “OMG!! That’s amazing, where can I get one, that’s so cool, blah blah.” And it is cool.
As you can see from the pictures, I just leaned it up against my painting, storage area (of my living room because my house is really small) and Chico’s bed. I looks even better than the original picture. Seriously, you guys. Amazing. And now, if I ever stop being lazy and hang it up, I can longingly gaze at a beautiful picture of myself when I was at my ideal weight. ‘sigh’ Oh! It also comes with the hardware to hang it.
If you need your own Canvas on Demand, click the link and head on over there. They can pretty much do any picture you want. They’re pretty BA and have great customer service too, which I love.
My first week as a blond has gone pretty well. I’ve stopped freaking out every time I look in the mirror (short hair plus different color is quite a shock). Most of my friends have seen it so they’ve stopped walking past me when I’m meeting up with them. Which was kind of cool. I was around people I knew, but kind of invisible because they didn’t know who I was.
Shockingly, the employees in my neighborhood gas station had no problem recognizing me. Every time I go in there it’s, “Windsor, where have you been! We thought you ran away…blah blah blah…” Those dudes love me.
I have had several people say, “I’m shocked you can pull off hair that short.” 
Thank you? I’m not sure if this is a compliment or not. It’s kind of an insult, but still nice? Like, they didn’t think my face is strong enough to pull off the hair. Which makes me wonder if they’ve sat around thinking about me with short hair and knowing it would look bad. Because that comment alludes to premeditation. (I’ve been watching a lot of Law & Order) And it’s been more than one person. One, fine; multiple, weird.
After the initial shock, I’m very pleased. Except this past weekend with the helmet hair after riding the scooter in 90 degrees for an hour. My hair just can’t recover from that.
I finally got the scooter!! I’m sooooo excited! Here is a pic of it’s glory!!
They dropped it off on Saturday afternoon and I haven’t been in my car since. The Vespa Midtown dude (they’re awesome, ask for Tyler) showed me how to turn it on and how the lights work and how to open everything. Then we practiced the kickstand, which is intense! He left and I was off.
The Vespa guy was like, “Drive it around the block for a while and then around your neighborhood. Make sure you get really comfortable before you take it out on any main roads.” And I said, “Definitely. I don’t think I will be comfortable for a while.”
I drove it around the block once, decided I was comfortable and headed down the road to Justin’s house. Where it took me about 10 minutes to get it up on the kickstand. It was especially embarrassing because there was a girl standing out there talking on the phone. I know she was internally laughing me. I would’ve been.
I’ve driven it all over the place and I even had Chico on it on my back for a bit. Also, I’ve already dropped it and flooded the engine. So, you know. Got that stuff out of the way.
I love it and never want to drive my car again. Even though I was freezing this morning. Oh, and this car was tailgating me. I’m like, dude. Back off! Or go around. Seriously.
On another note…I successfully used the blow dryer this morning. Which, never happens for me.
I painted this after having a conversation about spooning. Amazing what things inspire me…it’s weird. One of my twitter friend’s husband says they look like chocolate sperms. Whatever floats your boat, dude. Or in this case, tickles your pickle :) (they do look a little like sperms, but they’re SPOONS!)
I was watching an episode of America’s Next Top Model a couple of Saturdays ago with Roomie and one of the girls was yelling, “Just because I’m not spewing rainbows doesn’t mean I won’t make a good role model!!” All of us at home did realize she had a kind of lousy attitude, but a lot of models do. Just sayin’. Anyway, this got me thinking. I don’t spew rainbows. And I feel like I’ve been like this for most of my life toward those lucky rainbow spewers (demonstrated in picture below)
I have been known as the quintessential rain on your parader. I felt threatened by the rainbow spewers. I stayed away from them. Couldn’t relate to someone who constantly saw the glass half full and smile through most situations and had a generally sunny disposition to life. I was not sunny. Like, probably the opposite of sunny. Then multiply that by 100.
After watching this episode, I realized, for the first time in my life I would like to spew rainbows. Maybe one day, I will be the sunny person in the room people are drawn to. I’m definitely getting there. As I said on twitter the other day, “I’ve been mean since I came out of the womb.” You know what? I’m tired of being so mean. I’m tired of having the wall up and keeping every one at an arm’s distance in case, heaven forbid, someone gets too close and might really know me.
In the past six months or so, I have made major strides toward being nicer and sunnier. I’m excited about where I’m headed. I don’t need the wall or the “wittiness” to protect me anymore. I want to be out there and I want to be liked. I’ll always be a little weird and a little different, but it’s no longer okay for me to hide behind those things as an excuse to separate myself from humanity.
Who knows? Maybe one day soon I’ll be walking around spewing rainbows annoying my former self
Sorry if you’re totally tired of reading about my hair. I’m going to write about it some more…
I called the ever lovely Jodi, and told her, “I’M HAVING A HAIR EMERGENCY!!!” She was able to work me in at 8:30am on Saturday. Well, I was there for 3 hours. There was a long time of bleaching and sitting under heat. Which, was uncomfortable to say the least. I read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn which is not a great, “My head is on fire” book. Then…the orange still wouldn’t come out. That shit is persistent. So, there was blonde dye. And more sitting and reading. Then the blow dryer. Then some gloss. Then more gloss. It was an intense process.
I then had her chop my hair. I’m still not sure what I think of it and didn’t get any really great pics, but I took some for you guys.
I am also not sure how to fix this doo. It’s a twiggy cut, just a little shorter than I wanted.
I am promising not ti have any hair only posts for a while. I promise. I hope you all had a great holiday!
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