Posts Tagged ‘atlanta’

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I am (not) a southern belle…yet.

October 19, 2009

So, I live in the South now. This shocking occurrence has provoked numerous comments about my personality and it’s relevance to southern living. Thank you all not very kindly.

This heavily sarcastic post keeps with the theme of “next-stepping” because frankly, this is my next step. And due to my spontaneous deep-dive into Georgian culture, I’ve discovered a few things about our great nation below the Yankee border.

I will now serve as a spy for the united Northern front and pass along some very valuable information about our southern compadres.

1. The word “y’all” generally means the same thing as “you guys.” For example, my two southern belle neighbors tend to insert this into most sentences at least two times. I.e. “Y’all should come over for drinks because y’all haven’t seen our new couch yet, and we think y’all would like it,” or “Hey y’all, I think we’ll meet our future husbands tonight at this bar. Y’all’ll love it!”

Sometimes I have to hold back my laughter when this occurs, and sometimes I just laugh. I also cannot stop saying “hey, you guys,” and I found myself saying “wicked” the other day. That’s just gross.

2. Grits are gross. Seriously. They resemble the mistake that occurs when you make cream of wheat with too much water. These people gulp them down like they’re delicious hash browns. During a recent late night (early morning, technically) eating session, I almost cried when my omelette came with grits instead of hash browns. Thankfully, my fellow northern friend hooked it up with some delicious normal potatoes off his own platter.

3. 50 degrees is “cold.” I’ve seen people here walking around bundled in scarves and winter boots. It makes me feel weird that I still wear flip flops and t-shirts because this feels like California to me.

4. Jesus saves, or at least that’s what the signs say.

5. The Georgia flag oddly resembles the Confederate flag. By oddly I mean not oddly at all.

6. People think Atlanta is a big city. It’s really just a sprawling suburb with buildings interspersed. Hot spots tend to fall close to or within a shopping center.

7. Every major road has a Waffle House on it. This is by no uncertain terms the dirtiest and best drunk food, ever. Soberly, you should never enter these golden arches.

8. Each apartment complex could possess a pool, gym, roofdeck, veg garden, dog walk, car wash, gated entrance, granite countertops, balconies, etc. The standard of living here is higher and cheaper than anywhere I’ve ever lived. Apartment managers will apologize for not providing free internet or free massages. In New York City, they wouldn’t apologize if there was not room to stand up.

9. Capitalism rules. There is, like, every store in America concentrated into the city of Atlanta. Within a five mile radius of your apartment.

10. People are really, really nice. They keep calling me m’am, which makes me uncomfortable. I’m used to maintaining a stand-offish air of snobbery. I don’t think this works here. I’m only half-kidding.

On another note, I think I’ve never really found a place where I can be so much myself. So, I dig it.

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Decision.

August 13, 2009

Downstairs “foyer,” if my house had a foyer, 5:41 p.m.

A brown, rectangle box with my name and address on the front label sat on the dining room table. I picked up the box and shook it. Something jiggled.

I ripped open the box and extracted a tin cylinder bearing a striking resemblance to a popcorn container.

I really, really hope there’s caramel, I thought.

No caramel, or cheddar, but something better – an acceptance letter to the school I had just applied to for copywriting and art direction.

I guess I had to start thinking about joining the Circus.

Bedroom, 5:47 p.m.

After looking at the clock and realizing that six minutes was not a long time to think over such a life step, I decided to use my ultra-cool Blackberry to take pictures of the tin and send to some close confidants.

Their responses were varied, including “Wow! That’s sick!” to “What even is that?”

I looked at the picture. The light gave off a weird glare, so I retook. I still got “What even is that?” It was a popcorn tin, for heaven’s sake…with a school acceptance letter in it.

Bathroom, 5:52 p.m.

Holy shit, I was pale. My face was almost unrecognizable. Computer/fluorescent lighting face was highly unattractive, which explained why I had been getting “Not at the beach much, eh?” lately.

Car, 7:00 p.m.

I took the tin with me. I don’t know why, but when making an important life move as such I figured I needed to carry all tools necessary.

I showed my friends and they agreed it was the perfect next step for me. So why couldn’t I settle?

Bedroom, 1:00 a.m.

Naturally, I made a pro and con list.

Pros of staying in Illadelphia:
1. I can be close to home.
2. Um.

Pros of school:
1. Next step will be in full force.
2. Get a job much easier.
3. Meet new people and learn while doing it.
4. Do what I love.
5. Adopt a puppy.
6. Make something of myself/make my family proud.
7. Etc.

– One Week Later —

I made the decision. I’m moving to Atlanta to attend a really small school (200 kids) for copywriting and art direction, and to build a bad ass digital portfolio so I can work for a big shop.

Two years starts October 1.

Oh. God.