CONWAYITES
As it is closing in on the time of year for one of the most fun street parties in Paris, Fête de la Musique, and since I will be absent this year for it, I thought it only appropriate to throw my own fête right here for my favorite Conwayites. (This is what our local newspaper has labeled folks living in Conway as).
I invited all of my closest childhood friends over for maybe not a fête de musique, but a fête of celebrations!
We celebrated by toasting one of my best friend Maggie’s new venture in building her own beautiful salon, we raised our glasses to another best childhood friend McCall’s (surprise) baby girl - who's already TWO years old and utterly EDIBLE, we cheers-ed my best guy friend (who also shares my birthday… so we’re more like siblings), Russ’s, 9 year wedding anniversary (it happened to fall on that very night), we celebrated my high school boyfriend - and long time dear friend - Bradley’s wife’s birthday (which also fell on that exact night), we clink glasses when Gin, who shared her exciting news about building her dream home with her husband on a newly purchased plot of land… And they all celebrated moi for my move to France this year. It was BLISS!
VISITS WITH THE SC BESTIES
I got to visit with my sister-friend, Rachel (we played together ummmm daily growing up so we feel we’re more sisters than friends. Plus, she and I moved back to NYC at a similar time and we decided to move back to the south at similar times… we lean on one another as sisters do). It did my heart good to go over and sit on her porch, spill my guts, and have her listen and advise me. She and her husband were Greece bound (she had a in-the-mind mood board for her outfits... Yep! We’re sisters indeed. I do the same!!!!) the next day – so I felt extra special when she asked me to hop in the “windowless limo.” What her babies call the … golf cart.
We started out at a good speed - but as the trip (and hills) continued, the slower our limo became. We were giggling by the time she was wheeling into my mother’s driveway. Barely made it. I guess, even electric vehicles need a little “juice” and rest sometimes.
The next morning, Sunday, I did what any good ol’ southern gal does… I went to church. We decided to go to the Methodist Church where I was raised so that I could see all of my friends who still attend. It has not changed a bit – it only looks a LOT smaller now. When I got inside, I made a beeline to hug Sallie and her two boys. Then, out of nowhere I spotted my childhood sweetheart – who appeared to still be 10 years old! Then it came into focus. It wasn’t Kent. It was his son! They look exactly alike. It was such a precious reunion with lots of laughs and hugs and stories after the final hymn was sung and we all spilled out the massive doors.
That afternoon Joe took my mother and me on the boat for several hours. It was the best day for a long ride, swim, visit, bird gaze, turtle watch, and Goldie Hawn prance! (GH moved from spot to spot every time we took a turn, or passed a boat, or went over a wave, or when she got the sensation to sniff at the bow, or… well… just anytime she wanted to stretch her sea legs (no sea per se, but you get it). We think she has just gotten over her motion sickness and finally reacclimated to walking on solid land. Poor girl.)
While we were out, I dove in and my mother followed – felt amazing! Like bathwater! Although… two nights later, Joe mentioned how dangerous that was. And he’s right! I had forgotten that you never ever ever dive into the almighty black river. That’s the number one rule. I mean I feel scared even typing it. Such an idiotic move from two “river rats” as us Conwayites are (also) called. The Waccamaw river is the home to a ton of fallen trees and stumps (not to mention snakes, alligators, turtles etc.) so you NEVER know what you’re jumping into. Quite literally.
En route home, we passed the Riverside Club, where I spent the better part of my 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th… who am I kidding?… Practically all of my years of life before college. Two of my best childhood friends lived there. As we boated by, we saw lots of little bodies splashing in the water. Elation! The Corontzes kids were home! Maggie Corontzes was one of the two best friends and her whole family are all still living in this neighborhood. And… between two of the Corontzes sisters (who are my age) they have SEVEN kids. Mary, who is Maggie's sister, at one time had 5 kids under 5 years old. She had triplets! And Maggie, she’s the mother of two boodles. One being my first Godson, Xan. He’s getting old, but not too old for a Nouna smooch. The way he looks at me is priceless. He is so proud to call me his Nouna (Godmother). And probably because now I come bearing buttery cookies from Carette Paris.
It was a joy to see them all. We laughed and hugged and then laughed more. I would have stayed all night with them. Alas, we had another fête to get to. I had invited my uncles over with their wives for a little boat outing that evening.
When we pulled up to the house, with five minutes to spare, Spivey and Sim were already pulling up. Sebron and Sandra came around the back nearly five minutes after that. And in no time we were all slurping down boiled peanuts (a southern staple!) and sipping our pony neck beers on the Booza Cruza (Boozer Cruiser – basically a large flat dock with a motor). Not two minutes after we passed the trestle were we being summoned by the DNR (Department of Natural Resources). It was a riot! Joe turned up the volume on his charm and worked his magic. So instead of being given a ticket for not having a throw cushion (whatever that is?), he gave us a warning. Because before we left the officer, I do believe Joe and he were setting a date to fish together. Joe has NEVER met a stranger. EVER. (Turns out, we were all too nervous when looking for what the officer was asking for that we forgot to look under the steering wheel where we indeed already had the throw float. Hilarious!)
As we were headed back to town after that long cruise, we saw a group of very sunburned red people drifting and looking a bit nervous. Their motor wouldn’t crank. So, as good river samaritans do, we tossed them a rope and towed them back to the marina. As we were delivering our extra pulled weight to the slip – who did we see? Or at least… Who do we hope saw us?! Yep! Our DNR officer. He was pulling his boat out of the water. I like to think he discarded the warning that night after seeing us paying it forward.
THE HOLY CITY TOUR
Monday I left for Charleston at 8am and could not have been happier for my lady-dates that I had lined up for that day.
First stop, Katie’s beautiful home on the marsh (and our main hub for Bin & Books (our small book club) when our headquarters, Bin, wasn’t an option). Seconds after pulling up to her gorgeous home was she outside, squealing, with her arms extended. “AC!! You’re home!”
We gabbed over two hours while munching on my favorite thing on the planet. Her homemade bread. She made her signature toast for me… honey with sea salt. DE.LISH! And to wash it down? She prepared a new turmeric ice coffee situation that would have only come from her creative mind. So yummy! Before we knew it, both of our alarms were going off – she had an appointment and I had another date to scoot to. After we hugged goodbye, I left her and got to see my Blaise.
I was Blaise’s first friend in Charleston. I spied her at an event we both were attending (6ish years ago). She was wearing the most chic oversized hat I had ever seen. When she came close to me, I think my pick-up-line went something like this: “I need to know everything about you!” Lucky me… she didn’t think I was a creep and instead became my fast friend.
We were disappointed to remember that Babas (our mutual favorite café) was closed on Mondays. So, instead, we paid homage to my new country and dined French style at Felix. While we dined and sipped our glass of wine, she poured out some incredible life lessons, advice, love, encouragement, and laughter. I could have stayed with her for 12 more hours.. Alas, my alarm for my next lady date was singing at me and I had used up all of my “snoozes.” Time to go.
I rushed home to find Greer – dearest friend and owner of the two yummiest and most popular bakeries in all of South Carolina. The Harbinger and Harken – sitting on my steps (YES. I stayed at another best friend, Sarah’s apartment while she was away. Hated I couldn’t see her, but it felt nice to be in her space. And crazy enough… it used to be my old apartment. So, I got to physically “go home again.” BLISS.) In that moment, it felt as if NOTHING had changed. Greer and I would go on a long walk down to the Battery every other week when I lived there – and oftentimes, she would come sit on my steps to wait for me. Heart was full!
Our walk took us to the water, where we wrapped the peninsula. When we were heading back we passed a ton of Confederate Jasmine. A plant that Greer used to always always make us stop at to smell. It is the smell of the south and it will forever remind me of her. It was only appropriate to capture us in front of one! (AND She also got spotted by a fan. A lady passed us, took out her earbuds with glee to praise Greer… “I love your restaurants so much!” I was SO proud. She’s a star! Precious moment to be with Greer (my sweet bashful incredibly talented chef friend) while being praised.
That night I got to see Amanda. She and I gabbed until a massive storm came up. (When in Paris, eh?! Oops!! I’m not there at the moment… I mean … when in Charleston, eh? YES. That’s right. I changed one random-storms-happening-anytime-anywhere-all-throughout-the-day city for another!) I picked her up on her Short Street and we walked to our tried and true, Bin 152. (This is Fanny and Patrick's wine bar – the couple who is also opening up a bar in Paris soon and friends of mine. Stay tuned. When they make the announcement I will have you all over it!)
I had a ball listening to Amada. She is in such FLOW right now with everything. I’m so so inspired by, and proud of, her! She has been working on her tennis apparel brand, Spence, and was sharing all about how the right doors are opening and the right doors are closing at the moment. And how the opportunities are pouring in.
She also mentioned that a few days before seeing me, her husband introduced her to a new group of friends who he went to college with. She shared how she was apprehensive that they would have anything in common at first … yet by the end of the visit, she and her husband had to crash at the new friend’s house because they had talked until 4am! She said it was the coolest conversation and so intellectually stimulating. I loved this story!!! But… Ahhhh! I must admit, I got a wee bit jealous of this experience. To actually be able to contribute in a long detailed conversation about topics that I am an expert in – made me miss having those. I am meeting new friends all of the time from my Simon… and yet my conversations in French go something like: “I’m from the US. I live here. I eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I would like a glass of wine. I buy food at the market.” using words I know and keeping it all very elementary. One day though… eh?!
MY WITCH DOCTOR
Venessa, my healer witch guru doctor masseuse (she answers to all), has been massaging me for 6 years now, and is who I attribute for keeping me healthy, curious about life’s lessons, and bouncing back when under the weather. (PSA: If anyone needs her number, text me! She’s INCREDIBLE.)
We always start every session the same. We gab about what has been happening, we take my finger tip scans to see how my organs are doing and where my energy levels are thriving/lacking, and then we move to the table where I practically go into trance while she works out the kinks. So, while we were gabbing at the beginning, Vanessa shared with me how being Brazilian, not knowing any English when she moved here some 20 years ago was the hardest thing she had ever lived through.
She shared how overwhelmed she felt when she would go out and be surrounded by english speaking people (she was being sweet to relate to me on how I have been feeling these past 8 months in my new French country). She said that in moments like these, instead of getting upset (which she validated me by saying that being upset is natural and did happen for her a LOT too) she would shift her viewpoint. She would open her field of vision and start to notice things that she normally, if she were rapidly speaking her native tongue, would miss or not appreciate as much as she got to in the moments she was feeling left out or disconnected. (paint colors, furniture, flowers etc) Love this! And proud to say… I already do this often. Times when I get really quiet… I am indeed taking a break. But also trying to play a game with myself to stay stimulated. I will try to pick out the French words in a French conversation that I already know or pretend I am somewhere because I choose to be there even when I am wildly uncomfortable. This, like her, has made me feel less lonely at times.
She also described being “downsized in a new country.” THIS WAS WILD. I have not been able to put my finger on the sensation I feel a lot over in France – but this is it. She described it perfectly. It’s just feeling smaller. And of course I do feel smaller right now — it’s all NEW. I don’t have best friends over there yet, and I’m not yet working. So… It’s like I’m not as important as I used to be in the place where people knew me and my capabilities / past. It’s like I’m not as smart (I’m not vetted in the political / important topics of France), not as fashionable (I’ve always been complimented in the States for how I dress, but it’s a whole new ballgame over there), not as motivated (overwhelmed with all the change and newness so moving slow), not as talented (same hobbies I’ve done for years don’t pull at me like they used to) etc. etc. … because I’m out of my comfort zone. It’s a downsize. Smaller version of myself.
Alas.. I DO see that it’s actually an upsize… upgrade on all fronts! And I am not blind to what a gift I have given myself for learning something new and making myself wildly uncomfortable daily to GROW.
It was the best conversation as she too related to Simon and how much effort he is putting into my growth. How difficult it has to be on him to translate for me (my French sentence structure needs WORK. So, for now, every time I speakI am basically replacing English words with French words – pas correct way! Alas… )Simon understands me and will listen then say it correctly for all the confused faces staring at me. It has to be a lot for him! Vanessa does the same with her family and said it can be quite a large undertaking. It was such an incredible afternoon. Full of wisdom.
THE DOCTOR WILL SEE YOU NOW
Too excited to sleep!
After arriving home from my date with Amanda, drenched and pretty sure that I definitely had shin splints from my sprint home due to the lightning around me, I was wide awake. I had acupuncture the next morning at 7:30am – my old usual time with Lisa (another one of my healer witch guru doctors who I love so much and who I made a priority to see every other week). This session was incredible! I was on the table for almost 2 hours and lost count after 44 of the needles she used on me. Devine. I lost count because when I’m on the table it’s only a matter of time before I am deep in REM. Zzzzzz. My friend’s ex-husband used to call our acupuncture appointments “expensive naps” – he wasn’t far off.
My session with Lisa was also an incredible touchpoint to what I needed reminding of… That everything is happening exactly the way it is meant to happen. She dropped a lot of good nuggets on me while I was facedown for my back to be cupped. She reminded me that just the simple change of words could change the tone of thought. As an example. Instead of saying “I’m struggling with …” change it to “I’m percolating what to do about…” She also told me that my liver was screaming for a break. I decided to give it one that night when I met Laura Pelzer (favorite boss ever!) for a drink. Instead of staining my teeth red with the half bottle of wine I typically drink, as a newbie Parisian… I only had ⅔ of my negroni (tribute to Simon and my favorite cocktail) and then seltzer in a wine glass (my go-to when I want bubbles, and to be fancy, but don’t want alcohol) with Michale.
After my appointment, I got a smooch in with Hart and Kirby – where they convinced me to talk my way into skipping the line for coffee at Babas (it was open on Tuesday, so they were open – thank god!) “If anyone can do it, you can, AC.” Ha! They were right. I sweet talked my way right past the 30+ people and over to the secret computer where the lady wrang me up discreetly and I ordered ummmm EVERYTHING.
At lunchtime, I made my way South of Broad (charleston slang for the MOST beautiful, historical, coveted neighborhood of all) to pick up my precious pregnant friend, Elise. Ah! She was simply glowing as she made her way to me. Since her growing healthy baby girl belly reached me first, I naturally hugged it before I smooched her.
We went to the Battery to be close to the water and ironically they (the city I guess?) had removed all the benches that morning (they were there the night before on Greer and my stroll). So, instead, we parked it on the steps in front of my friend Molly’s house and caught up until I realized I needed to bolt to the dentist if I was going to make my rendezvous. Indeed, Dr. Bayme is one of the appointments I booked months before I even bought my plane ticket. He is the BEST.
I also got to see Lindsay, who is expecting her THIRD child, and a baby girl this time, and Whitley, who has changed career paths and is in the process of getting her degree in clinical psychology with a focus on sex and couples therapy. I got to run into Mike Lata and visit with him and his beautiful wife, see my favorite old neighbor Nancy and pet Tillie, her newest puppy addition. I got waved down by two of my dear gay friends who will marry in October over in Europe. I got to see wonderful friends and make the most special memories. I got to get my haircut, shop my favorite facemasks at Whole Foods, and feel held by dear friends. Each time I left one friend – their words would be immediately written down for me to reference often later. I have the smartest, most creative, supportive, motivated friends. I miss them so much and love that I had individual time with so many. I learned about how the avocado became popular due to Michael’s intrigue with The Food Explorer. I learned that a stomped toe still hurts regardless if it was an accident or intentional. I learned that the most hungry one often eats last. I learned the power of shifting a viewpoint. I learned about the new coolest vintage shop in Brooklyn. I learned to make a list of all my real life work idols and then reach out to them for recommendations. I learned to be courageous and have no shame in sending out an SOS for work. I learned that it’s ok, and in fact good, to say no if that’s what I mean, and only say yes when it’s really a YES. In short (because the list could go on and on and on), I learned a ton.
It was a trip of a lifetime. Truly. Those short 2.5 days was exactly what the doctor ordered for me. To touch down. Get a dose of love, encouragement, deep conversation, understanding, laughter, and familiarity. I left still feeling like I was proud of myself for leaving when I did … however, making a mental note to go back more often to see the friendships who have touched my life greatly. Charleston is called the Holy City – depending on who you talk to you may get different explanations as to why. But it is holy for me. It’s … sacred due to my people.
Since being back in Conway after Charleston, I have gotten a pedicure with my mama (our favorite pastime), had an impromptu visit with Bradley and Travis’s wife, Beth … and their babies, had two kayak trips with my mama on the river (where we raced one of the times to see the train we could hear riding over the trestle – but missed it within seconds. And the other, where we were witness to a massive float with four passengers being pulled by ummmmm boy swimmers. They hadn’t brought a paddle or any smart ideas about how to move the float. We hated to break it to these idiots… but the river ISN’T tidal. C'est la vie. They seemed grumpy as they baked in the sun and moved at a relaxed alligator pace (which is what was sure to be swimming below them), had a walk with Goldie, my mama, and Martha in the cemetery, got to visit one of my friend’s mom’s Mrs. Cindy, reorganized my mama’s closet (and found a few treasures of mine that I had left behind. Ahem… my Wrangler jacket that I was beating myself up for giving away. Praise to the vintage gods it was in this house all along ;)), had matcha at our new Coffee Movement truck in Conway, and hosted my dearest childhood friends for a long – full of joy visit. My heart is so full. It will be hard to leave this state in a week. But I am looking forward to wrapping my arms around Jane and Jimmy in VA… and then Vivian, Fiona, Erika, Ali, Marissa, Steven, John, Kathleen, Erica, & Luis in NYC.
Until then… today I am en route to Litchfield with my pops, where we’ll ring in Father’s Day weekend together. Miller’s family will join us on Sunday evening where we’ll play on the beach until Wednesday — I plan to bake in the sun like the fools in that river raft did.. all the live long days we’re together!
Xxo ac