Today's WCW is Kimberlie.
She gets this kick-off spot because I got my hair done on Tuesday after a long absence from professional help. The young receptionist at Esten's orthodontist cheerfully asked me, "Who does your OMBRE? I love it!!" Through my gritted-toothed smile, I thanked her but assured that it was only due to months' worth of neglect. Also, people my age don't call it "ombre", we call it "trailer trash roots". I suppose the fashion world can slap a cute name on anything and people flock to it.
I found myself in front of a new stylist again, for the umpteenth time since I last saw Kim, explaining to our reflections in the mirror the reason for my hair's sad state to a sympathetic ear:
"My regular hair lady [yes, she still has that title] moved away, like MOVED MOVED. To the Virgin Islands. I was in denial for a long time. I thought she would come back. I thought she would visit and want nothing more than to spend her precious time here cutting and coloring my hair as she filled me in on island life. She didn't come back. She isn't coming back. My hair has been a shit show since she left. I miss her. No offense that you weren't my first choice."
I got all fixed up, but explaining the pain her absence has left in my heart again has made me think about her, and not just for the selfish reasons that I need her around. She is an amazing lady and people fall into two categories: those who have met Kim and those who have not met Kim. Those who have met her never ever forget her.
I met Kim when I started dating my husband, a package deal you get when you marry someone who graduated with an uber-tiny class from a small town. She was a lot to take in at first. Her skin was as dark as her teeth were white, her hair standing in defiance to the elements. Over the years, I got to know what was under all that, and under each layer I was more surprised than before. She shares the good and bad with us, and despite any physical fakery to her appearance, her heart is nothing but honest.
She had some steady and serious boyfriends, but ultimately she is the living essence of Miss Independent. Once, when a relationship fizzled out on a vacation in Mexico, she said "f*ck it" and stayed, making new friends and enjoying the rest of her time in the sun and sand....single.
She spent time in the military - and minimizes the significance of being the first female to participate in a ceremony that I believe deserves more recognition than she'd be willing to accept.
She takes on challenges that seem nuts to us. She ate what she described to me as "prechewed tuna" and other ridiculous foods and literally worked her buns off to participate in fitness competitions. Plural. More than once. Which of course, required her to spray to a whole new level of bronze than before.
She is the first to laugh at herself, making it safe for us to laugh at
|OK, to be honest she has a lot of|
She loves with her whole heart - her dogs, the Zags, NASCAR, her friends, her parents, her brother who was taken too soon. Her heart is twice as big as her hair and overflows for those she cares about.
|And wine. She also loves wine.|
She took a leap of faith and moved from her own house in the neighborhood she lovingly referred to as "Methlehem" to halfway around the world to make others feel beautiful, often on their wedding day. She has embraced a new life and caved to the fact that she would have to up her technology game to stay connected to those of us she left behind.
I miss her. We all miss her. We are grateful that we get glimpses into her life, even when it's freezing-ass cold here and she's posting pictures of her life in paradise like an asshole. For that, she is my WCW.