Skip to main content
Madison Monday

Call me sugar

By August 21, 2013No Comments

Please do not actually call me sugar. I might punch you. Today’s post is by my good friend, Jennie. Check out her hilarious blog, strandedinselma, and my guest post there today.

When Robyn asked me to write something for her blog, I nearly peed my pants. Being a guest blogger is a big fucking deal especially writing for someone as cool, smart, and lovely as RRR. I started blogging a few weeks ago and my topics are usually ridiculous, bordering on moronic. My posts are riddled with grammatical and spelling errors and are generally pointless. Nevertheless, here goes…

I am a Southern girl. I’ve spent all but a few years of my life in Mississippi and Alabama and wouldn’t have it any other way. Don’t get me wrong…the South can be absolutely ass backwards. We have a long way to go regarding many important issues–race relations, education, poverty, etc. — but we also have many wonderful things to offer. Where else but in a small southern town could you call the local pharmacy, ask for medicine to be delivered to your office, and “charged to your mama?” On my one hour lunch break, I can take a 30 minute nap, run two or so errands, and still get back to work with a few minutes. I’m on a first name basis with the UPS man, my parents’ mail carrier, and half the employees at the post office. My favorite food in town is made at a gas station and the cornbread is better than anybody’s grandma could ever think about making.

If one of your relatives dies, you might as well go ahead and put on elastic waist pants for the entire mourning period. The food your family will receive almost makes up for your loss — poppy seed chicken, tomato pie, cheese straws, chicken salad, lots of scrumptious brown casseroles with cream of something soup, chess squares, banana pudding, chocolate silk pie.

I fill up my gas tank once a month. We only have traffic when the train comes through town or you get stuck behind a funeral procession. You can still leave your key with your neighbors and not worry about getting robbed. I am called “dear,” “love,” and “sugar” on a daily basis and find it endearing. It’s hot as all get out in the summer but you wear fewer clothes and adjust. Life here is slow and the pace agrees with me. It’s not for everyone but if you ever need a break from reality, you may want to move south.

Leave a Reply