Lauren Ferguson | There are no mistakes in art, just opportunites to embellish. (tm): A Northern Girl in the South

Now y'all know that I am the first to remind everyone that I am from the North.

Therefore that clearly means that I was not born with the "Bless your Heart Gene".

It is the innate ability of Southerns to cuss you out with a bunch of sugar on top. Let me explain.

See in NJ if we think that you are being a jerk, we say: "What the Fuck are doing???!!! Why are you being such a Fucking JERK!!!!"

In the South, they say: "Bless your heart, did you really mean to drive the car into the pool like that."

Or in NJ we use the word FUCK in multiple ways...
As a noun: What the FUCK?
As a adverb: What are you FUCKING doing?
As an adjective: That FUCKING shit!!!
As a verb: Are you FUCKING with me?

And see that was easy for me to do without even thinking twice.

Now in the South, they don't do it that way... It is Bless your Heart
Example 1: Bless his heart, his mama was not right anyway, so he did not have a chance.
Example 2: Bless his heart, he has always been dumb as a stump.
Example 3: Bless his heart, they ran out of brains when he got to the head of the line.

So you see, I am really still a Northerner.

Oppps, but I digress.

So as we are driving home from Huntsville, I look at Teresa and say what is that stuff on the side of the road. She tells me COTTON. I am like what I have never seen cotton unless it comes pre-shrunk.

My family migrated north, so I do not know anything about this stuff. Well, Amy decides to call me on the phone and says that she want to "pick some cotton". Of course, all I could do was laugh.

She realizes that it was probably not the most politically correct thing to say, but I have to be honest, I wanted a picture of me in the cotton fields of Scottsboro Alabama. And of course, there is a famous book that I read as an undergraduate called the Scottsboro Boys and this is about all that I know about the south.

So here I am in the middle of the cotton fields of Alabama.

Oh and did I mention that while I am standing in the middle of this "EXPERIENCE" my dad calls on the phone. Here is the conversation:

Dad: "Hey how was the weekend?"
Me: "Oh, that is a story for another time, but let's just say that I survived it."
Dad: "Great, so where are you now?"
Me: "Dad, I am standing in the middle of a cotton field in Northern Alabama"
Dad: "Ummmm Honney, What are you doing in the middle of a cotton field in Northern Alabama?"
Me: "Picking Cotton, Why?"
Dad: "Why are you picking cotton?"
Me: "I have never seen cotton up close like this. We stopped so I could see it."
Dad: "Let me ask this again, Why are you standing in the middle of a cotton field in Northen Alabama picking cotton."
Me: "Dad, you know how it is when you have white friends, they want you to experience all of the South and its history."
Dad: "And tell me honey, what have you learned from this experience???"
Me: "I am glad that my ancestors migrated to the North. Because this is no joke."
Dad: "OK honey, just checking, see you when you get back to the city."

So that is it. I have now picked cotton in Alabama.

until we meet again,