For the record, let me state that I hate these damn “about me” things. I’m always worried that I will come off as
A) Pretentious (which I am, but I don’t want y’all to know that)
B) Unfunny (Also which I am, but I REALLY don’t want ya’ll to know that)
Because see? I really want to make sure that I come off as effervescent and delightful and I want y’all to want to be my best friend and make out with me, but I don’t know how to do that. Shit.
Anyway. I’m a 24 25 26 year-old Alabamian, born and raised. I love Alabama, I love being from Alabama, and above all, I love telling people I’m from Alabama. Their reactions are always priceless and hilarious and they make my day. I don’t get insulted when people automatically assume that I am a redneck idiot, because being from Alabama, I am qualified to inform you that most of those stereotypes? Totally true. I can assure you, however, that I am neither a redneck nor an idiot. I am also not crazy-religious, accented (OK, I have now learned that I don’t have an accent in Alabama, but I sure as hell have one in Massachusetts), blue-blooded (though I wish I was. I also wish that insanity ran in my family, because I think it’s glamorous. Like Zelda Sayer Fitzgerald.), or a neo-confederate. I generally intensely dislike anyone who has those characteristics (except for the accented part. I love people with accents of any kind. Except people who say “warsh” instead of “wash.” Y’all can burn in hell.)
When I started this blog in January of 2007, I was living in Charleston, S.C. I had moved there 5 days after I graduated from college (in Alabama) because it was beautiful and lovely and historical. My degree is in history and I wanted to actually use it. Which I did. I lived there for 3 years and one month, and did quite well for myself. I loved every second of it. It is where I learned to live on my own and support myself and where I pretended that I was a big girl (I think I fooled no-one but myself). Charleston is a fantastic city- warm, sunny, indescribably elegant and seductive. I thought I would live there forever. Then I met a boy with very blue eyes.
And this boy with the Very Blue Eyes lived in Massachusetts, which, last time I checked a map was A REALLY FUCKING LONG WAY FROM CHARLESTON. So for exactly 11 months, we dated on the phone and occasionally saw each other. And, needless to say, it sucked all kinds of ass. I couldn’t possibly string together enough descriptive words to effectively convey how miserable it was. And so it happened, that on the very day of our 11 month anniversary, he flew to Charleston and we drove to Massachusetts. That was September of 2007, and here I am. And that is how a girl from Alabama, who is FREEZING TO DEATH when it is 50 degrees outside, and who has suddenly realized that, in fact, she MOST CERTAINLY DOES have a Southern accent, ended up living in Massachusetts.
His name is Pete, and I often refer to him as “The Lieutenant.” You can read about how we met and started dating here. He is the reason that I know how to spell Massachusetts, and also that New Jersey does not count as “New England.” Who knew?
And then we broke up! Fuck that guy! Who wants to date me?
So now I live in Massachusetts and it is weird and cold here but I have some good friends and a good job so I’m not quite ready to leave yet. But I will eventually because goddamn I cannot keep living in a place where people don’t drink sweet tea. What the hell, man?
Here are things that I like:
The really cheap Halloween taffy that you can buy for like $.09/ton – the kind in the black and orange wrappers- I was always the kid that traded snickers bars and such for taffy, swimming in lakes that aren’t all reedy, bluegrass, little churches in the country that are picturesque, puns (especially if they are literary!), snobby British humor, this t-shirt, hot tea, anything ever said by Mr. Burns (he’s the funniest of them all), exclamation points (this you will learn rapidly if you read anything I have written), parentheses (see!), fluffy pillows, Eighteenth-Century costume movies, Ben Affleck (I can’t help it! don’t judge me), my parents, sailing, people with well-arched eyebrows, french food, antique books, and foreign languages (though I can’t speak any).
These are things I don’t like:
People who say “pour” when they are trying to say “poor,” people with a disregard for grammar in general (and if you use a double negative in my presence, and you aren’t being sarcastic, you are dead to me), unsweetened tea, tidal waves (it’s a completely irrational fear), Rachael Ray, loud noises of any kind, including (but not limited to): car horns, leaf blowers, tractor trailer trucks on small downtown streets, and anyone who speaks too loudly, dogs being carried around in purses, houses made out of yellow bricks, conservative republicans (or most of them, at least), candles and air fresheners that are supposed to smell like raspberries, vanilla ice cream, and primarily, snakes. I want them all dead. Immediately, please.
I am typically mistaken for being male when I correspond with people over e-mail or through letters, though I stand by the fact that Taylor is more commonly used for girls than boys. My AAA card has me listed as “Mr.” and I was accepted to LSU as “Mr.” I always wondered what would have happened if I went to school there. Would they have kicked me out because of my boobs? (I doubt it! We are talking about LSU here. If anything, my boobs would have helped me graduate with honors.) I am convinced that this will put me in therapy one day. But if that is the only thing that my parents did to screw me up, I count myself as extremely lucky. And I am. My parents are hilarious and unique and raised me up right, y’all!
I started this blog for no other reason other than needing something to keep me busy duing the very slow winters in Charleston. There is no theme to my blog. Sometimes I post links, sometimes I rant about politics (ok, actually lots of time I rant about politics, but only because it gets me all fired up!), sometimes I get distracted and write 17 paragraphs about how I can’t do math. Sometimes I will post 4 times a day and other times I will go a week without writing anything. I’m sorry for that. Feel free to tell me what I should write about.
Also, for the record, I should probably tell you that I talk exactly how I write. I use a lot of exclamation points and italics (though I’m not entirely sure it is possible to speak in italics, but you get what I mean) and parenthesis. It’s pretty weird, and I’m fairly certain that I am much easier to understand when I write instead of when I talk. Also I gesture a lot.
I get very excited when random people that I don’t know drop by my blog. You should leave me comments. If you have left me a comment, then I love you. Let’s get married and have 10,000 babies.
I look like this:
And sometimes I wear funny clothes and I look like this: