My entire world was turned upside down the day that my parents announced that we were moving to North Carolina. To a thirteen year old, North Carolina seemed like another planet from where we lived in Colorado. I was at a loss for words for the first time in my thirteen years of existence.
The next day when I went to school and announced the big move to my friends, they were all excited for me. My friend Heather said that she knew that the boys were much cuter in North Carolina as her cousin attends college at Duke and her cousin told her so, which usually meant nothing to the rest of us as Heather was always saying that her cousin did this and her cousin did that or said that, but it intrigued me nonetheless. I was at an age that boys meant everything to me. My walls were covered in posters of good looking actors and musicians, and my desk was covered in magazines that ranged from Teen Beat to Young Miss. Cute boys were definitely a selling point to this move to the other side of the world.
Another topic of conversation was the southern accent. Both my friends and teachers told me that since I was moving to the South that I had to learn to say things like "Yawl". It was a funny sight as a teacher that had moved to Colorado from New York trying to teach me how to speak like a southerner. By the end of the day after everyone took a turn, I was pretty sure that I could manage to say "Yawl" which I figured was at least a start.
Tears rolled down my face as our family station wagon pulled out of the driveway to the house that had been my home for a big part of my life. I watched as the houses of my friends went by, silently saying goodbye to each of them and wishing that I could take them with me. The thought of starting new and having to make new friends was becoming a reality as we left Grand Junction and started toward the mountains that would take us from Colorado and through the many states in between. I pulled my little address book out of my bag and opened it turning to each page that had a friends name and address on it as it seemed to me that it was my last string to hold on to.
Throughout the trip we stopped at little hotels and had to smuggle our dog and cat into the rooms with us. In the mornings the cat would not come out from under the bed and the dog decided that he wanted to ride one day in my father's van and the other day in our big station wagon. What a trip it was! We saw a lot of the United States that we had never seen before in between Colorado and North Carolina. Each stop I wished I had a friend there with me to share it with but I had to settle for my little brother who was okay at times but please don't tell him I told you so.
The first place that we stopped in North Carolina was at a Western Sizzlin Steakhouse. We were tired and our stomachs were growling as we filed out of the vehicles and into the restaurant.
Our first taste of our new life came when the waitress stopped by our table to take our order. She was a pretty girl and very enthusiastic with a friendly "Hey Yawl! What can I get for ya?" Her southern accent was so genuine that we could not help but bite back a small laugh, we were here, the land of southern accents, hurricanes, and a buffet at every restaurant and we have stayed here ever since.
