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Have you ever noticed that the people at the airport gates look stereotypically like where they are going. The people going to Albuquerque (home of the meth addiction prevention billboard) are weathered and wearing those leather string ties. The people going to LA have on flip-flops, the state shoe of California.

The people going to Texas - NO, NOT BIG HAIR - they look friendly and sharp. When I boarded the plane I noticed that everyone smiled at me as I walk down the aisle. Okay, this may have been because I was grinning at them from ear to ear, but I also tend to believe that they are friendly people. A lady was struggling getting her bag into the overhead and a business man jumped up to help her. As he leaned over me to get the bag in, he said to me, "Excuse me ma'am" in his charming cowboy accent. (My husband, who lived in Austin but is from South Carolina, will say to me "yes ma'am" when I ask him to do something and I absolutely love it.)

I had a stop-over in Austin and I cried when we landed. Good God, I thought, I am going to be a mess (a hot mess, of course) when I finally make it to Dallas. I had been warned by friends who had experienced the same thing that home, indeed, would no longer feel like home. I was actually worried about the reverse - that is, I was worried that it would feel so much like home that I wouldn't want to leave.

Sure enough, when Dallas came into view, I felt like I was going home. As soon as I stepped off the plane, I noticed it wasn't strange at all. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders and that my entire body that had been clenched up tight in the 9 years I had been gone finally relaxed. As I made my way into the city, it didn't seem like it had changed at all. I was home.

I cannot live here because I have joint custody of a wonderful son who loves his father who hates Dallas. Accordingly, there is no possibility of living here for a very long time. I will not take my son away from his father.

It's a strange thing, that - to be living someplace that doesn't feel like home. There's nothing wrong with where I live now. In fact, most people would love to live where I live. But Dallas is home, for reasons explainable and for reasons that escape my ability to find words.

The Franchise headquarters are right by the airport so I popped in to say hello before my day long meeting. Everyone knew exactly who I was when I walked in the door and greeted me like an old friend. I can't wait for tomorrow (today, by the time I post this.)

This post is long enough, but I can't sign off without telling each of you that part of my ability to get off the plane onto Texas soil without falling to pieces was because of all of your comments and good wishes and support through this blog. Thank you.