Moving to the tar heel state! (Uh, what is a tar heel?)

Photo by andrewbain / CC BY 2.0

About seven years ago, my dad told us he was going to North Carolina on a business trip. Then, well, let’s just say he never made it to North Carolina and the next time I saw him was at the divorce hearing. Unlike my father, when I tell you I’m going to North Carolina, I’m actually going there, like, to live.

It all started last November when I flew out to Los Angeles. I stepped off the plane and it was so sunny that I felt a surge of Vitamin D coursing through my veins and I could hear the birds singing just for me. I wanted to lick the sunshine, or at least pack it in my suitcase. Then, I returned to Indiana, where my nostril hairs froze and the sky was most definitely NOT the color of topaz or even tourmaline, and I thought, “Why the hell am I living in this shithole?”

Then my consciousness replied, “Because of your mom and brother, you numnuts.” And I was like, [...]

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