Well, this Hair Sunday thing is keeping me posting here at least once a week!

There’s much to tell y’all about, but I don’t feel like it right now.

Suffice it to say that James & I are back in B-ville, situated in the extreme southeastern portion of Arizona, for the first time in over two years.

It is very difficult to describe the conflicting, tumultuous feelings flowing through James and me as we experience being back in the town in which we thought we’d spend the rest of our lives.

It is strange, indeed.

We’re here to get the rest of our few belongings out of the house, and we listed it with an agent today. Next week we head to Tempe where I will play two weeks of “Phantom”.

As I wrote in a Facebook status update recently:

“Being back here is like getting together with a former sweetheart: old news, some regrets, appreciation of past beauty & good times, and they sort of got their act together after the divorce (at least as far as internet access at the RV park goes — they DIDN’T have it when we lived here!)”

The strangeness intensified on Friday when we walked up the main street of town to our house. The smell of seasoned, warm wood and old plaster hit me like a saucy, vivacious yet dysfunctional friend who’s no longer on speaking terms. The sight of bright red walls in the kitchen where James prepared many a delicious meal and I baked bread brought back pleasant and sad memories, all at once.

It feels like SUCH old news to be back here. Perhaps I am embarrassed to be so vividly reminded of past mistakes and past misperceptions. James and I fell in love with this town the moment we saw it, little realizing that the beauty was only skin-deep. From the highway, B-ville looks like the quaintest, cutest town on the face of the earth.

Well, it didn’t work out the way we’d hoped. This place definitely has a bittersweet tang of disappointment and unmet expectations. We can hardly wait to leave.

But I remind myself, and James, that we need to remember what we have RIGHT NOW — a wonderful life in Northern California, surrounded by family and friends, living in two excellent (and contrasting) environments — The Woods and The Ocean.

Now on to something more cheery and ridiculous: Hair Sunday!

This is by far the longest I’ve had my hair since 1997. Not very long at all, you’re thinking. But for me, I feel wooly and unkempt. Every morning is a Bad Hair Day until I tend to it — wetting it and/or slapping goop on it to keep it looking frightful — but NOT bad, at least.

Not exactly bad. I hope. Not quite frightful enough for Halloween yesterday, but sufficient to scare ME when I look in the mirror.