Flash floods— wait, what?

So today is the first time in over a month that Shreveport got a heavy douse of rain.  Much needed rain, since our grass was yellow and not growing.

But it hasn’t stopped.  Or even let up.

My two dogs, Luna and Sahara, decided it would be fun to run around in the warm rain.  Their muddy paws tracked it inside the house so my beautiful white tile floors are now caked with the red-stained earth of Louisiana, their fur has chunks of mud dried in it, and they’re confused as to why it hurts to pull it out.  Ah, puppies, you are not too smart sometimes.

What confuses me about Louisiana, is that after Hurricane Katrina, one would think that they would have storm drains down to a science to make sure floods don’t happen.

Yet here we are, my street with a few inches of water flooding it because THERE AREN’T ANY STORM DRAINS!

Come on, even Minnesota takes care of this better than you.

Also, I do NOT say boat funny 😛


Sweet Pet Names

So I have noticed that nearly every person here has a habit of calling me “Sugar.”  At first, I thought it was a term of endearment, thinking “awe, they think I’m sweet!”

Of course, my mother had to destroy this, as mothers tend to do.  She said to me, in a very flat, monotone voice (the only voice she ever shows for as long as I can remember), “They’re probably calling you that because you’re white.”

My dear husband didn’t help this case either.  His response was nothing more than “You are insanely pale.  Maybe you’re white as sugar?”

Then I noticed only people with skin tanner or darker than mine were calling me sugar.  Coincidence?  Most likely since everyone is tanner than I am.

Then I decided to call my husband “Honey-bun” thinking “NOBODY CALLS ANYONE HONEY BUN HERE!”

Next day at work, I was greeted with “Sup Honey-bun?”

Yep.  Fail on my part. 

“Bless Your Heart”

So there is something that I’ve noticed about the south since getting here about a month ago.  

Whenever I tell people I just moved here from Alaska, they say “Oh Bless your heart.”

While my British grandmother would say “Bless your heart,” she would say it in a way that meant “Oh that’s so precious” or “how beautiful” or something like “how sweet.”

When I was living in Alaska, my Texan friend told me once that “Bless your heart” meant something along the lines of “Shut your whore mouth,” or “That baby is the most hideous thing I have ever seen.”

Since I don’t have a baby, I can only assume that the girls I met were telling me to shut my mouth.  

When I asked my friend about this, she told me that it probably meant “Oh you poor thing.”

I guess it translates as “Uff-da,” but not really.  I wouldn’t yell “UFF-DA” at someone if they said they moved from Alaska to Louisiana.

Seriously, why isn’t there a book that translate Cajun to English?  There’s a book that translates Minnesotan to English (tentatively called “How to Speak Minnesotan”).

Every state should have this phrase book.  For real.  Think of the money we could make off this.  “Mississipian to Cajun, a guide to talk y’all”

I’m just going to stop talking now.