Ok, guys. I have a confession to make. A HUGE confession to make. I've been denying the truth of it for years, but I can't deny it anymore...
I am no longer a true southern woman. (Oh, the shame.) Now - please understand that I am not defining myself as a yankee or anything like that. But - it's just not the same.
Here were the tell-tale signs that things had changed:
- I no longer insist on drinking my beer out of a glass. I sometimes drink out of a bottle or even (*gasp*) a can. [And once - a waiter asked if I wanted a glass for my beer and I said "nah...".]
- Thank You notes no longer bring me the sense of peace and accomplishment that they used to bring me. I'm no less thankful to the wonderful people who gave me gifts but there's none of this sitting down with a cup of hot tea in front of a window to carefully draft thank you notes anymore...no - now I whip them out pretty darn fast - if I even remember to do them at all - and it no longer gives me the feeling that I've just done the most important thing in the world.
- And probably the most obvious change of all is the fact that I haven't used the word "tacky" in a really long time. I MIGHT have used it a few months ago - but even then I think I was using it as a joke and trying to act all snooty and uppity to be funny. "Tacky" was, for a long time, a pretty huge part of my vocabulary. But it has now gone the way of the dodo - or at least the Barton Creek Salamander...
Now the good news is that I still would not be caught DEAD in white shoes between Labor Day and Easter. So, clearly, some of my upbringing stuck. (I had to throw that in. My mom's read this blog at least once and I assume she will again. Don't worry, Mom! I'm keeping the faith to a certain extent.)
It's funny that I've refused to admit the loss of my southerness (or OBVIOUS southernness) for so long. It's not as if I'm a walking, talking Scarlett wanna-be. Although, technically I DO have green eyes, brown hair and a vicious temper if you ever push me too far (generally I'm really sweet like Melanie, though - I promise). And....I guess I am a lot more ambitious than I originally admitted to myself in terms of career goals. Ok, ok - and maybe (just maybe) I have a thing for Rhett-ish guys...but that's it. There are no other similarities whatsoever. (Well, maybe the Irish thing...)
Hmmm. Maybe Scarlett wasn't what people expected either. Did she EVER write a thank you note? I sure don't remember that from the novel. Seems as if she was a bit too busy bullying people to worry about sending notes.
Maybe I mis-titled this blog entry. Maybe Scarlett has just now ENTERED the building in my case. So, on that note, I think I'll go bully a few carpetbaggers. I'll let you know how that turns out.*
* There is a certain phone call that looms for me tomorrow and I shall try to call upon my true inner-Scarlett for it. Wish me luck.