#33: Assimilation
After producing 3,852 forms of ID, studying, standing in 197 lines, signing over my first born and listing 100 reasons why I deserve to pay the North Carolina Department of Motor Vehicles $280 for highway taxes, I am finally a fully licensed and license-plated North Carolina driver. For the past three months, I've wanted nothing more than my North Carolina driver's license and my new plates. The process took for-friggin'-ever. But now that I'm all plated and carded, I really don't want to give up my Minnesota plates. I actually made the mechanic who took them off for me (they were doing an inspection anyway and they offered to take them off and put the new one on. It's not like I can't figure out how to unscrew the plate on my own. What do you think I am? Blonde? Oh... wait...) The Minnesota plates are sitting in my car in the envelope and I want to keep them, but I just can't figure out what to do with them. I like them. They're... Minnesota.
You know what's not Minnesota, that I'm learning to adore? Spring. In Minnesota, spring is just someone winter picks on. It's gray, rainy and puts forth a wimpy effort at almost warm weather before winter bullies in one more time and dumps two feet of snow on your doorstep on May 1st. Here in North Carolina, the winter gracefully retreated at the end of February and by the first week in March, the daffodils were in full bloom. Since then, something new has blossomed every week. Every time I think the flowering season must finally be coming to an end, I see a bright magenta-blossomed bush blazing up against the white-painted bricks of someone's home.
After the daffodils began blooming, the thermometer has only briefly flirted with day temperatures below 60 and has remained in the mid seventies, to low eighties, for weeks now. I've even been able to convince Sir to turn on the air conditioner when the temperature inside the apartment neared 90 degrees last week.
Of course his decision was probably influenced by the great amount of pity anyone who saw me last week swelled with. My entire upper body was covered in a bumpy red rash that was so itchy I toyed with the idea of just gnawing my own arms off and being done with it. I mean, I don't really need arms. I'd still have two legs and I've seen that Dateline or 20/20 (or whatever) where double amputees learn to do things with their feet that normal people do with their hands, like paint. I could gnaw my itchy, itchy arms off and become a world-famous foot painter. Double bonus! But I didn't remove my arms, and they remained covered in a very diseased-looking rash for at least three or four days. It kept many people at bay and those people I didn't feel like talking to, I let them think it was contagious. I may have even coughed a little in their direction. But the rash was not contagious. It turns out I am allergic to Coppertone sunblock. Therefore I have a fun decision to make this summer: sunburn or rash? I'm really not looking forward to the money and time it's going to take to spot-test all of the other sunblocks on the market to see which ones give me the Bubonic Plague Rash and which do not.
My job is going well. That's about all I'm going to say about it, too. I'd rather not get fired for writing about my job/company/coworkers on the internet just yet. Maybe later.
I'm trying my hardest to do something active every day to avoid office-butt and be able to fit into my summer clothes from last year. Well, I've tried to do something active every day except today. Today, Sir and I went out to eat and then walked around Target for almost an hour (which totally counts as exercise, right?) and now I am tired, so instead of exercising, I'm writing this to you. Don't you all feel special?
Sir is trying his hardest to thwart my goal of physical fitness and fitting into my summer clothes again by taking up a new habit. This new habit of his both makes him the most wonderful man in the entire world and the most evil. He has taken up making cake. Not your little picnic cakes or one-layer sheet cakes, but multi-layer, multi-frosting-can cakes. I have recently finished a devil's food cake almost entirely on my own. Devil's food indeed. It's so moist and delicious and fixes my little afternoon chocolate/sugar craving so well! I think Sir realizes that if he continues to make me cake, he has a mate for life. For. Life. People, I like me some M&Ms, but I LOVE CAKE. Cake, as Chandler Bing would say, is perfection. Cake, is my kryptonite.
It also doesn't help that Sir is trying to put on weight. He's trying to beef up, so our freezer is full of ice cream, our fridge is touting cake and full-fat cheese, mayo, and 2% milk, and our cabinet has potato chips.
I have this foggy feeling that I'm fighting a battle I am destined to lose.
I'm also failing at trying to disassociate myself with the southerners, linguistically. I have caught myself saying things like "a good bit," "ya'll," "put that thing up," and I may have, may have let a "sheeeeewwwwwt" (southern-speak for "shoot") slip out the other day. Luckily I'm heading back to my snowy roots in a couple of weeks for a visit and will be able to remind myself how to say things like "don't ya know" and "you betcha." I'll reacquaint myself with all-things Minnesotan like wearing shorts during "spring" (aka, 40-degree) weather, freak May snow-storms and the largest mall in America. Ahhhh.... Minnesota. I kinda miss ya'll.
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You know what's not Minnesota, that I'm learning to adore? Spring. In Minnesota, spring is just someone winter picks on. It's gray, rainy and puts forth a wimpy effort at almost warm weather before winter bullies in one more time and dumps two feet of snow on your doorstep on May 1st. Here in North Carolina, the winter gracefully retreated at the end of February and by the first week in March, the daffodils were in full bloom. Since then, something new has blossomed every week. Every time I think the flowering season must finally be coming to an end, I see a bright magenta-blossomed bush blazing up against the white-painted bricks of someone's home.
After the daffodils began blooming, the thermometer has only briefly flirted with day temperatures below 60 and has remained in the mid seventies, to low eighties, for weeks now. I've even been able to convince Sir to turn on the air conditioner when the temperature inside the apartment neared 90 degrees last week.
Of course his decision was probably influenced by the great amount of pity anyone who saw me last week swelled with. My entire upper body was covered in a bumpy red rash that was so itchy I toyed with the idea of just gnawing my own arms off and being done with it. I mean, I don't really need arms. I'd still have two legs and I've seen that Dateline or 20/20 (or whatever) where double amputees learn to do things with their feet that normal people do with their hands, like paint. I could gnaw my itchy, itchy arms off and become a world-famous foot painter. Double bonus! But I didn't remove my arms, and they remained covered in a very diseased-looking rash for at least three or four days. It kept many people at bay and those people I didn't feel like talking to, I let them think it was contagious. I may have even coughed a little in their direction. But the rash was not contagious. It turns out I am allergic to Coppertone sunblock. Therefore I have a fun decision to make this summer: sunburn or rash? I'm really not looking forward to the money and time it's going to take to spot-test all of the other sunblocks on the market to see which ones give me the Bubonic Plague Rash and which do not.
My job is going well. That's about all I'm going to say about it, too. I'd rather not get fired for writing about my job/company/coworkers on the internet just yet. Maybe later.
I'm trying my hardest to do something active every day to avoid office-butt and be able to fit into my summer clothes from last year. Well, I've tried to do something active every day except today. Today, Sir and I went out to eat and then walked around Target for almost an hour (which totally counts as exercise, right?) and now I am tired, so instead of exercising, I'm writing this to you. Don't you all feel special?
Sir is trying his hardest to thwart my goal of physical fitness and fitting into my summer clothes again by taking up a new habit. This new habit of his both makes him the most wonderful man in the entire world and the most evil. He has taken up making cake. Not your little picnic cakes or one-layer sheet cakes, but multi-layer, multi-frosting-can cakes. I have recently finished a devil's food cake almost entirely on my own. Devil's food indeed. It's so moist and delicious and fixes my little afternoon chocolate/sugar craving so well! I think Sir realizes that if he continues to make me cake, he has a mate for life. For. Life. People, I like me some M&Ms, but I LOVE CAKE. Cake, as Chandler Bing would say, is perfection. Cake, is my kryptonite.
It also doesn't help that Sir is trying to put on weight. He's trying to beef up, so our freezer is full of ice cream, our fridge is touting cake and full-fat cheese, mayo, and 2% milk, and our cabinet has potato chips.
I have this foggy feeling that I'm fighting a battle I am destined to lose.
I'm also failing at trying to disassociate myself with the southerners, linguistically. I have caught myself saying things like "a good bit," "ya'll," "put that thing up," and I may have, may have let a "sheeeeewwwwwt" (southern-speak for "shoot") slip out the other day. Luckily I'm heading back to my snowy roots in a couple of weeks for a visit and will be able to remind myself how to say things like "don't ya know" and "you betcha." I'll reacquaint myself with all-things Minnesotan like wearing shorts during "spring" (aka, 40-degree) weather, freak May snow-storms and the largest mall in America. Ahhhh.... Minnesota. I kinda miss ya'll.
Labels: They say "ya'll" here
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posted by Sun at 8:14 AM
3 Comments:
Spring in the South is wonderful, but wait until summer arrives and makeup and sweat become one and hair begins to frizz. Air conditioning and the pool become the most important things in your life. Life slows down because your thighs stick together!
New phrase: Have you tried "fixin' to" yet?
Hey now, "ya'll" shouldn't talk about Minnesota that way. We've had a BEAUTIFUL spring!! Temps in the 70's with a few 80's thrown in and until this last week, an abundance of clear blue skies. It's been fantastic and it will be even better when "ya'll" are here to enjoy it with us!!
"Kinda" miss you too, don't cha know..
Of course the weather is nice in Minnesota *this* spring. It waited until I left the state!
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