Welp, folkies, it's official...I AM A SOUTHERN GIRL! I moved to Stormin' Norman, Oklahoma, last weekend and have completed my first week of work for the University of Oklahoma. I don't mean to gush, but I absolutely love it here.
Back in the day, when I had been looking at OU as my future college, I remember someone telling me that I wouldn't like it here because of the "tarantulas the size of Volvos that roamed the highways." I am happy to report that I have yet to see a tarantula. Well, except for ones I just now saw when I Googled the word "tarantula" to figure out how to spell the word, "tarantula." Yikes. The first words to appear in my my Google box were "Tarantulas in Oklahoma." Naturally, it took me to a Wikipedia page describing and showing the many brown tarantualas in Oklahoma (luckily, brown Oklahoman turantulas are the best kind to have as pets...good to know...). Shit, now my ears are ringing all weird and itchy. Oh, and I also have major goosebumps because I'm thoroughly convinced that there is one crawling on the wall behind me. Should I look?...........Okay, I just looked and, again, I have yet to report a sighting.
One thing I have been dying to see is the species best known as the "Rednecks." I was lucky and got my Redneck experience out of the way early when I went to pick up my Cox digital cable router this afternoon. Two steps into the place and I felt like I was time-warped to 1987 when mullets were a hit (or was it 1972 when Grandma Glasses were in style? Orrrr it definitely could have been 1960s England when not brushing one's teeth was a fad). Any way I look at it, I was warped into the time of Redneck. And it was awesome. Thick Southern drawls, flannel, buck teeth, greasy hair, plastic glasses and a delightful Cougar with teal eyeliner. I certainly picked the right day to get my router.
I don't mean to judge or even be mean because, well, I am pure trailor trash. Ummmm....Hello Pot? This is Kettle. I'm calling you black. But I can tell you that none of my posse (i.e. family members) ever had a mullet as awesome as the guy's in front of me. But perhaps my favorite Redneck was the lady who came in a few minutes after I stepped in line. She had on tight leggings, an even tighter black Goodwill t-shirt and ol' school Nike tennis. Her hair barely avoided the ceiling and I really couldn't tell where her eyes ended and her eyeliner began. I pegged her for a Cougar the moment I laid eyes on her. I then confirmed it when she spoke to me.
"See that kid behind the counter? Isn't he just a dolllllll? God bless his little heart. I love his beard. Don't you love his beard."
Uh, yeah, lady. I love his peach fuzz. He's freaking 12.
Speaking of 12-year-olds (and this may sound creepy), I LOVE going to Walmart/Target because of all of the little Southern boys and girls. Have you HEARD a Southern child with a Southern accent? BLESS THEIR FREAKING HEARTS. I could adopt 10 of them. Seriously though, it is my quest now to find a husband with the thickest Southern drawl I've ever heard so he can make sure our kids have at least 3/4ths of his accent. Some kid in Target tonight kept shouting "Poo-poo face butt, poo-poo face butt," but the sing-songy drawl in which he was enunciating his words with made the phrase sound like butter.
I could get used to this Southern lifestyle. Rednecks, Southern children and fuzzy spiders. My kind of living.