Or: I’m Really Allergic to the South
I have lived in a lot of different places across the good ol’ U.S. of A. I’ve been to even more states.
Pink is where I’ve lived, green is where I’ve been, and beige states obviously don’t exist in reality because I haven’t been there yet. Sorry, most-of-the-middle-of-America.
Click for original map-source.
In all the places I’ve lived, I’ve never once suffered from allergies of any kind.
Until I came to the South.
Things are beautiful here. Right now, the sun is shining, and it’s better than 60 degrees outside. The breeze is cool and the trees and the grass and the flowers are starting to bloom.
Hurray nature! This is how the weather SHOULD be experienced.
This is a problem.
This is a very accurate representation of my allergy face.
A big problem. All of these plants insistently breeding means I can’t breathe. I’ve never been quite able to identify what it is in the South that I am allergic to, but whatever it is, it’s a plant that really enjoys trying to make baby plants ALL THE TIME. Its pollen saturates the air.
This is an even more accurate representation of my allergy face.
Plants in the South are just super extra interested in knowing each other Biblically*, apparently.
*It IS the Bible belt, after all, so it only makes sense.
I’m still mad at nature, even if it motivates me to dress like a bandit.
It’s really awkward, when you think about it. I just wish they’d leave me out of the process. Isn’t that what bees are for?
I miss bees.
Oh Monsanto. Why do you hate honey and flowers? Way to kill all the bees, guys.
Halloween is the holiday I celebrate for a full month. (Ok, admittedly, I also do this with both Thanksgiving and Christmas.) Horror movie marathons start October 1, and carry on until I have to legitimately accept that it’s November and I have to start obsessing about semi-racist Thanksgiving decorations. Candy shopping happens sporadically (Mostly because all those horror movie marathons need snack, and then I remember I have to compensate for trick-or-treaters). I make plans to go to every single party I’m invited to.
This year, I made my own stegosaurus costume.
In my head it looked like this.
This glorious example of costume excellence and artistry is courtesy of my favorite blog, Hyperbole and a Half. Go read it and buy her book.
What it really looked like was this:
I was chasing a tiny dog dressed like a dinosaur at this time.
I’m on a classic costume kick, so I was going to dress as the bride of Dracula for work today…but then I realized I had to go to the mall at lunch for an errand, and didn’t want to deal with long frilly sleeves in the stores.
That’s right. The mall affected my wardrobe decisions for the day.
So, I’m a blood sucking lawyer. Because I am both work appropriate and _hilarious_. (For reference, no one in the office thinks this is even remotely entertaining. Apparently the term “blood sucking lawyer” hasn’t made it to the south yet.)
Lawyers _Totally_ make this face. Just go see one and tell them you can’t afford to pay them.
I may be one of the few adults below the Mason-Dixon line who actually enjoys Halloween, but by golly, I’m going to celebrate it enough for everyone. You’re welcome, the South.
(This blog post is very short and unenthusiastic because no one will leave me alone today and I used up all my creativity this month on costumes. It’s a finite resource, y’all.)