I live in Ohio. I know if you are from somewhere cool like LA or NYC that you immediately picture me out in the holler, sitting in denim overalls with a piece of wheat or straw (or whatever) hanging out of my mouth while I wash my laundry in a river or catch fish with my hands. Or something. I don't know.
But truthfully it is suburbia where I live. Like, I live two minutes from Target and so basically I don't need to move, ever. It isn't very woodsy is my point. Most of us don't wear denim overalls...mostly. I am not a holler girl. And for that matter, I do not think I am a holla back girl, if I understand that correctly.
|Except for that one time in high school when I was walking like an Egyptian|
with someone's finger up my nose
while wearing a Pooh watch and denim overalls.
That was kind of a holler thing to do.
Yes, there are bears that are wandering the streets around my home. I do not fear, because the Ohio Department of Natural Resources has given this sage advice for dealing with bears:
"Clap, stomp your feet, shout at the bear. Most times they'll turn around and run," she explained. "Put your hands and arms out and 'puff up,' so to speak."Apparently you pretty much just have to act like a member of the Jersey Shore cast when you encounter a bear. Act like a real asshole and the bear will just turn around and run like a little pansy.
|Ronnie ain't afraid of no fuckin bears.|
Plus the only actual conversation I had today was when I explained the concept of toe jam to Olivia. And that was before I decided to write about my period on my blog. Probably I could use a bit of grown-up conversation?