Minnesota Nice vs. Southern Hospitality

The other day we went to lunch with a family that Jessica goes to church with and the wife mentioned how nice people were up here; they call it "Minnesota Nice." She is also from Alabama, although she hasn't lived there for a while, and so she knows about southern hospitality. She went on to talk about how nice people are up here and how they go above and beyond whenever you ask them a favor. Now, don't get me wrong, the people up here are extremely nice, but I had to ask a southerner or a minnesotian (if it's a word) a favor, I'd choose the southerner any day.

The thing would be people in Minnesota will do anything for you, but you almost have to know them before you could even ask. In the south, if anyone even thought you needed anything, they'd do it before you could even ask. Take for example someone dropping papers: in Georgia the first person to see you would stop what they were doing to help you pick them up; in Minnesota, maybe the fifth person might stop or the first person that knew you. The other day I was walking from the bus to work and passed about 20 people and maybe one person looked me in the eye to say good morning; at home I would have said good morning at least 15 times. It is a rare occurrence when someone holds the door open for me. So even though people up here in Minnesota are nice, they've got nothing on a southerner.

* side note: a few of the people I work with have to ask me to repeat myself two or three times because they have trouble understanding my "slight accent"

Hicky On Your Arm

I figured out the best way to get packages in the mail is to move really far away. I received a package from my sister, Beth. In the package was the cds for my computer, my sunglasses, stationary sets, a blue pokka dot head band, and a note. In the note she said she missed me in a "I-want-to-give-you-a-hicky-on-your-arm-sort of way." It's one of those moments where you just shake you head because you can't really explain it.

To explain the "hicky-on-your-arm comment, goes back to when I was 13. My daddy was taking my sister, Rebecca, and me to camp, like he did almost every summer. And like most summers we got there early. So while we were waiting for the camp director to get there, Rebecca decided that she wanted to suck on my cheek. Yes, I know it sounds weird but she had done it a lot on my arm before then and nothing had happened and I was 12 and didn't know what a hicky was and even if I had said no then she would have just done it anyways. And yes, it is weird. Well this time she gave me a hicky, on my cheek, right before camp started. So through the whole camp they called me 'hicky girl'. Needless to say neither one of sisters has ever been allowed to suck on any of my body parts since, despite much trying.

So as you can tell my sisters and I are really close, which can mean that we don't get mad at each other very often but when we do it can be pretty bad. My aunt usually fuses at us whenever our entire family goes out, "people will think that you're a couple if you hold hands like that!" If people can't tell that we're related, then they can't see that we're holding hands. So if someone tells you they miss you in a "hicky-on-your-arm-sort of way" take it as a compliment.

* I also got a package from my dad this week that said "Sorry I tried to put grits in here but they kept spilling and looking like anthrax pellets. Two things came to mind when I read it: 1) Ha! That's pretty funny, even for daddy. 2) How does he know what anthrax pellets look like?