WHAT!

I am heartbroken.

Not really, I actually already knew it!

I'm Melting!

It is May 30th.  Summer starts in June...in like three weeks.  It, technically, is spring.  In a normal world, the weather should be a lovely 70-80 degrees.  In Louisiana... it is darn near 7 million degrees.  I would say I was exaggerating, but really, I am under estimating how hot it is outside...in spring. 

Well, maybe 7 million degrees is an exaggeration, but you gotta know, that for this time of the year- it is hot in hurrrrrrrr (Nelly, where you go).  Okay, Pennsylvanians.  Think August.  Think that week of heat wave where your air conditioner breaks.  Yep, then.  Right now... May, that's what the weather is.  Heat wave in August with a broken air conditioner.  In fact, here's a picture of me....

Actually, not me, but thanks to EzineMark.com, we can pretend it is.

But you know the difference between the guy in the picture and moi?  He looks relieved.  He looks like there may be a gentle rush of cold air from a nearby fan.   For me, there is no gentle breeze created by a godly fan.  No.  I know that there are more, hotter and worse summer days to be felt.  My pit stains will be long and wide.  I am going to have to carry emergency deodorant.  I am going to have to wear dresses to promote air flow...like every day.

It's going to be a long and intense road this summer.  I might be pretty smelly at times.  So southerners beware.  A smelly super hot Yankee is in town. 

Save it!

You come down south to visit someone you know.  You stay at their house because, well, it's cheaper, so in exchange, you figure you'll help out a little.  You know, the basics, clean up after your self.  Make the bed.  Do the dishes. 

Well, your host made you a delicious sausage and chicken gumbo.  The rice was delicious and they even made potato salad- if you decide you're into that kind of thing.  So, following your delicious meal, you decide to wash and put away the dishes.  You scrub and clean and dry.  The dishes look spotless.

Your host comes up to you and says, "thanks for saving the dishes!"

That's when things get weird.... what?  You saved them?  What did you save them from?  These dishes that contained my wonderful meal were not in danger!  They were never perilously dangling from the counter top.  There was no cat burglar who threatened to steal them.  So why, why would they need saving?

The truth is, they don't.  The dishes don't need saving.  That's just what they say.  They save the dishes.  They save the laundry.  They save things.  Saving something, in my experience, generally means, 'to put something away.'  So a mom could, in theory, say, 'Tommy!  Go save your shoes!'

Here, look, a wikipedia reference! "To 'save the dishes' means to 'put away the dishes into cupboards where they belong after being washed.' While dishes are the most common subject, it is not uncommon to save other things. For example: Save up the clothes, saving the tools, save your toys."

Crazy right!  The origins of this peculiar phrasing is unknown to me at this time.  Maybe it originated with 'saving toys'- aka, 'putting toys away.'  Think about it.  An angry mom yells to his/ her kid- "PUT AWAY YOUR TOYS OR I WILL THROW THEM AWAY!'  (Caps lock signifies anger here.)  So over time, to make the sentence easier for the busy mom, she shortens it to, 'SAVE YOUR TOYS!'  Get it?  Put away your toys or I am going to throw them away, aka, save your toys from their inevitable demise in the gross trashcan and put them away!

Maybe that wasn't the origin.  Maybe something simpler than that.  But, that's my theory.

Now, go save your laundry.  It's been sitting in the dryer for days now...oh wait, that's me.

Of course.

Southern Grammar: Lesson Two

So, after my original Southern Grammar blog debuted over this past weekend, I was told that I was missing a key part of understanding y'all.  So, here I be, teaching you the ways of y'all by ways of possession. 

Y'all: possessive case... is that what you call it?  ANYWAY.

Someone make me some Snickerdoodles.  Now!

So, you, an inquisitive northerner walk up to your new southern friend Tammy.  Tammy is a lovely woman and she is typically very generous.  She has a plate of cookies that you just crave.  So you look at Tammy and ask her, 'Is this plate of delicious cookies yours?'  She says yes, and yes you can have one and the world is right.

Now, enter Jacob.  Jacob and Tammy and now both standing beside a mouth watering plate of snickerdoodles.  Being in the south, you know that the proper thing to say would be this, 'Is this plate of mouth watering snickerdoodles y'all's?' 


Now you see how one person possessive is referred to as 'yours' and then two people possessive is 'y'all's.'

Now, just like when you are referring to a group of three or more people, if you are asking Tammy, Jacob AND Aaron whose cookies live on the plate beside them, you say 'Is this plate of cookies all y'all's?'  Fairly simple!  Yours, y'all's and all y'all's.

In all fairness, in term of possession, the southerners might be on to something.  Seriously, because if us northerners speak of a group of northerners possessing something we say, 'Is this your guyses?'   WHAT?  It just sounds stupid.  'You guyses???'  Like guises?  Geysers?  What?  Y'all's and All y'alls is MUCH easier to say.  So while I may not start referring to groups of people by y'all, I may adapt their possession.  I'm not sayin,' I'm just sayin.'

Will there be another Southern grammar lesson?  Maybe.  I could teach you about 'cher baby!' But not to now.  For now I'll let you believe that cher baby has something to do with this:

What in the World???

Okay all of my southern friends.... what is this scary looking creature?  It was found outside the apartment during a random wildlife expedition my roommate often does (code for: walking the yorkie).  SHE is a native southerner and has never seen one.

Below are multiple crappy pictures.  Tell me what it is and you get a reward of a virtual high five.

Southern Grammer: Y'all

"Y'all."  We all know what it means in the north.  What we say?  We say- you guys.  Even if it is a group of 20 girls, it is 'you guys.'  In the western part of PA, they say 'yinz' which is the most awful word in the world.  Now what we know about y'all is also complicated by what we don't know- there are 'different stages' of y'all.

Y'all VS. All Y'all

There is a 'grammatical' difference, in fact.  You can't just willy-nilly throw around 'All Y'all' like you know what is going on.  So, if you ever come visit me in the south, make sure you know the difference or risk sound like a northerner.

Y'All.  What does it mean?  It means multiple people.  In conversation with Jimmy and Terrence, you a Northerner would say, "Y'all going to the show tonight?"  Notice, when I am talking to Jimmy and Terrence, I am only talking to two people.  Very important to note.

Notice two people

Now say, Sandy shows up and you ask the same question to Jimmy, Terrence AND Sandy.  What do you ask?  Simple: "All y'all going to the show tonight?"  One more person is added to the group and suddenly it becomes 'All y'all.'  

Notice more than two people

However, despite the fact that I sorta kinda know the difference, I am going to stick with 'you guys.'  Why?  I am northerner, that's why and you can't make me!!!  And because breaking habits is hard.  And, and, and, I just don't want to! 

So now my students, please share your new knowledge and remember:

Just Something Funny

 

 

 

This is how I feel about my upcoming post in which I will dissect the difference between y'all and all y'all.

Reddit.com

Ok People, Time to Chime In

Here's the dealio, a couple of years ago my fiancee and I were strolling the aisles at Best Buy probably looking at vacuums or some other domesticated item when we happen upon a popcorn maker.  Now, if you know me, you know that I freaking LOVE popcorn.  It is delicious.  I can and have eaten just popcorn as a meal.  Yum.  So, we see this popcorn maker of divine awesome and I casually say something to the effect of, 'I WANT THAT!' Because if I had that, I could dive my face into a pile of awesome popped corn delicious-ness.

Well, *spoiler alert,* I didn't get the popcorn maker.  Why?  Obviously it is not practical.  Who has popcorn makers in their homes? Plus I was probably broke as I often am. 

So, fast forward some time.  My birthday.  And guess what my fiancee gets me?  No need to guess, you know it.... the popcorn maker.  The delicious maker of popped corn bliss was in my home.  In my life, in my soul forever.  However, apparently when I opened my prize, I gave a look.  A subconscious look that conveyed a negative reaction to the best appliance ever.  Fiancee noticed and questioned me.  'I THOUGHT YOU WANTED THE POPCORN MAKER! YOU SAID YOU WANTED THE POPCORN MAKER!' 

'I did!  I do!  I want the popcorn maker!' is what I said, but what I thought on the inside was:

 

Now why would I think such things about an appliance that would create freshly popped kernels of corn whenever I desired?

Because fiancee broke a cardinal rule of giving gifts to women.  Never give appliances to women as gifts.  You don't give your mom a vacuum for Christmas do you?  Do you give your grandmother a microwave?  No.  You do not.  And if you do, STOP IT.  We don't want appliances.  Give us pretty scarves, new kicks, chocolates, stuffed creatures or maybe some jewelry.... not an appliance.  It's just a rule.

So my question is, am I crazy here?  Yes, I know that I should have just been happy for the popcorn maker.  I was more than happy to keep it.  We even bought popcorn oil so we could start popping popcorn.... fiancee INSISTED he return the gift.  I kept insisting we keep it.  I lost.  But the question is, do women like and/ or appreciate appliances for holidays?  

And now, time for a heaping, GIANT bowl of popcorn.  Yummy.

Part Two

1. Drinking Part Two

Needless to say, here in Louisiana alcohol laws are quite different.  When you need your liquor, you don't need to go to three different stores-just head to your local grocery store and there will be the beer, wine, liquor and mixers you need for a killer party.

Not only that, but drinking down here is serious business.  There are places that sell daiquiris through the drive thru.  Y'know, like McDonald's, order at the window, take some Bicardi 151 drink on the road...AND shots through the window too.  Well, my Northern friends would say, but, but, drinking and driving!  Well, as long as the straw is in the paper and not through the lid, you're good to travel!  Yes.  Absurd.  (But delicious.)

Then there's the drinking in the streets.  On St. Patty's Day I was downtown for an event and the entrance to the said event was on the road.  Outside of the event, people were wandering the streets with beer, daiquiris and mixed drinks.... like it was no big deal.  Even crazier was the fact that there were uniformed police officers everywhere and not one single care was given.... no one cared!  It was nuts!  In PA, if you wanted to hit another bar- you better chug your drink first and get to steppin'!

Also, drinking is what they do around here.  If there's an event- you betcha there's booze...otherwise people probably wouldn't come. If you're going to dinner, probably even lunch, someone's getting a beer or a fancy fruit drink.  It's just gonna happen.  There's even bars down here that routinely let in under agers... the bars are known for it. Granted, they get busted every so often, but they, most of the time, get away with it!

So, all in all, Louisiana is a lot more laxed in the alcohol arena.  It is strange to see so much free flowing booze everywhere.  With PA being so strict, coming here is just completely opposite.  Just strange... Mind blowingly strange.

*****

Honorable mention for crazy Louisiana things are casinos.  They are everywhere.... even in gas stations.

So, now I have to figure out what to write about next.  Suggestions??  Maybe comment below.

Part One

I feel that I should write this next entry in two parts.  First section I am just going to dive into how wacky PA is and how it’s all I’ve ever known and loved.  Then, we'll discuss Louisiana and how this place BLOWS MY MIND on the reg.

1. Drinking (Part One)

It’s not hard to have more lenient liquor laws than PA does.  In fact, the first line in the Wiki article for alcohol laws in PA is this: “The alcohol laws of Pennsylvania are some of the most restrictive in the United States of America, and contain many peculiarities not found in other states.” 

So, why are the laws so strict?  Well, first off, say you want to have a party in PA as I often did.  Well, you need some beer, some liquor and probably some mixers if you enjoy your guests (well, and food, but let’s forget about that).  So, to do this, you can’t just wake up an hour before your party and shuffle off to the nearest grocery store.  No.  You should wake up at least five hours before your party because you’ve got multiple stops to make, that, most likely, are way across town from each other. 

So first you head to the Wine and Spirits shops.  What’s that?  It’s where you get your liquor.  You know—rum, vodka, tequila and even, you guessed it, wine.  Wine and Spirits stores are all owned by PA, so you can pretty much go to any location and get the same prices.  That’s pretty sweet.  Oh!  And make sure, if you’re going on Sunday, that you do so between 12noon to 6pm, otherwise, CLOSED!!! *Evil laughter erupts from state officials.*  And even further, a year or so ago, they weren’t open AT ALL on Sunday! So, that's stop number one.



But.... that's not all you need!  No one drinks strait vodka, they need orange juice or bloody mary mix. For that, you need to stop at your nearest grocery store which, most often, isn't next to a Wine and Spirits store.  So, at the grocery store you get all your essential mixers.  If you need daquiri or margarita mix, you get it on this stop because there is no place else.  Go, get it now!


And finally, you need beer for the casual drinkers.  The men of the party.... or my friend J***, she likes beer.  :)  So then you go to the beer distributor.  These locally owned ugly warehouse looking places sell your beer, beer nuts, beef jerky and lottery.... So pick up a few things while you're out!  And these beer distributors where you get beer and my Woodchuck Hard Cider only sell by the case.  That's right, you CANNOT get a six pack of beer at a beer distributor.  Why?  I have no flipping idea.  It is strange.  The only place you can get a six pack is at little pizza places.  Otherwise, you better be committed to drinking!


So there you go.  There are a lot of other wacky alcohol laws, but that is the jist.  I never really thought it was too much of a nuisance because I was used to it, but let me tell you.... Louisiana.... now this is where the alcohol is.

Until the next entry, this is me, signing out.

Freedom

We as Americans may not be free, but we're free to eat ice cream.

Noms.

2. Food

When my now boss flew me down here for my 'in person' interview, he took me to some food places.  I knew they'd probably be good because when you try to get someone to go across the world, you show them the best of the best, right?  Well, he did.

He took me to lunch at a restaurant and told me, 'you have to try this gumbo!'  It was duck and andouille sausage.   I was skeptical about it for two reasons.  One; I had never had gumbo.  Two; it had duck. DUCK!  But, there I was, sitting next to my future boss and who am I to say no?  So I got it.....

It changed my life.

When I say it was delicious, that hardly sums it up.  That gumbo was magnificent.  I had never had such a thing!  And weirder still.... THERE WAS RICE IN IT!  RICE!  At first I was confused by the pile of rice in the middle of my gumbo bowl, but once I started digging in... that rice man.... it was just what I needed!

And then I came down here and was all like, 'the food can't all be that good.  He just took me to the best place to eat.'  No.  Let me tell you something yankees.... you have not eaten a good meal until you've eaten my roommate's hamburger steak.  Until you've eaten at a sushi joint called 'Tsunami (no, I don't eat the sushi).'  Until you've eaten the cupcakes...

Where I am, there are more restaurants per capita than anywhere in the United States and guess what, there is NO Red Lobster.  NO TGIFridays.  None of that garbage!  It's all delicious, awesome, hole in the wall restaurants that are all glorious.

And let me tell you about their plate lunches.  For lunch down here you can go to a variety of places that aren't your standard burger joints and get delicious, tastes homemade food.  The plate lunches MOUND on the food.... the rice, the gravy, the smothered green beans and stuffed turkey wings.  Yea.... Amazing....  Hauntingly amazing.

My friends.  Pierogies are awful.  Shoo Fly pie should be fed to the flies.  All the Northern, no taste food needs to get a splash of Tony Chacheres every time.  Put it on Mac N Cheese.  Fiance puts it on his eggs.  Put it on your hamburger.  Just do it.

But I guess I do miss some food in PA.  Five Guys (but they are building here soon, so not for long) and great pizza/ Italian food.  These people have no idea how to do Italian food.  Everything else though, the South has on lock down.

And don't worry, I haven't gained weight here.  As I write this I am making my dinner which consists of.... rice.  All this amazing food and I eat plain wild rice.  Now that's a shame.

Oh the rain!

3. Weather

Oh how convenient it is that as I write my blog on Louisiana weather and outside the thunder is rolling and rain is falling hard.  It seems like this may be a sign!!!

So it is May as I write this and what I am accustomed to in May is a nice 60-sometimes 80 degree weather.  I usually wear jeans and tshirts and most often, some sort of shoe where my toes don't show.  However, moving to Louisiana means that May is not springtime.  Nay!  Here in the South, I think Springtime happens between February 1st and February 3rd.  Instead of May being spring, May is the dog days of summer.  Think August my fellow Northerners. 

Morguefile.com

To put it simply, it is hot.  Today I am wearing a dress with no sleeves and flip flops and am a little hot.  I could probably go swimming if I were ambitious enough.  And you know what is worse?  It WILL get worse. To ease my worries, people around here keep telling me, 'Oh Jen, you know it's only going to get worse! This will be the worst summer ever!!!'  Aw shucks!  Thanks for sharing!!!

Also, there are hurricanes here. So much so that my job has an action plan for when one happens.  A hurricane checklist if you will. A CHECKLIST.  Well... actually maybe we Northerners have checklists for blizzards.  Milk-check. Bread-check.  Eggs-check. Generator w/ gas- check. 

Which makes me wonder, what would a true Southerner do in a Blizzard?  Would they be all for evacuating like I am for a hurricane?  I am thinking no.  Southerners would probably be like SNOOOOOOOWW!!!  YAYYYYYYY!  Y'know, because many of them have never seen snow in sizable quantities.  They think of snow as some sort of mystical awesomeness.... and it's not.  I HATE SNOW.  Yes, sometimes you get out of school and/or work, but most of the time it just adds time to your commute and it freezes your fingers.  I maintain snow is evil. See below, the true terrible-ness of snow.

=

Morguefile.com

 

 

 Overall, I think I like the weather better here.  First of all, no snow.  Second of all, little to no cold.  Third of all, gives me a reason to dress cuter.  Fourth of all, no snow. 

But what will I have to deal with in August?  Only time will tell...9. Only time will tell.

Cowboy Boots

We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming for just a random blog because, really, if this blog has a chance of survival in the blog-o-sphere, well, it's gotta go BEYOND THE TOP FIVE!!!  So, Monday I will get back to my list.  Today.  Cowboy boots.

So, I work at a place that occasionally involves me thinking to myself, 'Man, I really need a pair of cowboy boots.'  So much so, that today, I woke up and was like, TODAY IS THE DAY!  So, I get up, shower, get dressed and off I go on a hunt for a pair of cowboy boots. 

When I set out on my mission, I was hoping to spend, you know, $5 because I am cheap and poor, but was willing to go as high as $30 since I figured I was going to find $5 cowboy boots NO WHERE.... Sad, but true.  So I start my journey in Target, wander to another local store, then a thrift store-none of which contained the cowboy boots I so desired.  At this point, after an hour and half of running around town, I was frustrated.  I had been to one store that lovely boots, beautiful, in fact, only to discover they were $83 + tax (PA friends, they charge tax on shoes, clothes AND food in Louisiana.... yea, take that in.)  So I immediately said, no way and continued my journey.

I stop a couple more places and finally get to a place that sells just shoes.  I walk the aisles and there they are.  Like a beacon of light- cowboy boots.  Then, I see the first price tag.... $29.99.  I nearly cried with delight.  So, I scan the wall, picking up the boots and gently cradling them trying to form a connection with each boot.  I decided that, nay! The $29.99 boot was not good as it had little metallic stars on it... ew.  So I move on to another pair and another until I look at a pair of boots that were $79.99. 

I tried them on.   TRIED THEM ON!  I even thought to myself, 'y'know, I should do this.  Just buy this $80 pair of boots because they are awesome.'  An hour prior to this experience, I had said to myself, $83 for a pair of boots is insane and there I was, with $80 boots on, considering how this decision could be the best decision of my life. 

.... 

I finally talked myself out of the boots, after some convincing and went with a more fiscally responsible $49.99 pair of cowboy boots that are just divine.  See picture proof.

Anyway, what this whole ridiculous entry is ultimately about is best summed up by the following meme.

Next entry on Monday.  I'll continue my top five then.

There's a Difference People!

Onward an upward my furry friends!

4. Cajun vs. Creole

Once upon a time in the Great White North there lived a lass named, well, me.  Before I ventured down to the south (and by the way, HOLY HEAT BATMAN!) I never ever thought a lick about Cajuns and/ or Creoles.  I may have sung Jason Aldeans' "She's Country" and belted, "She's a Ragin' Cajun! Lunatic from Brunswick" once or five hundred times, but never did I know what a "Ragin' Cajun meant.  ...Until now. Well, kinda.

First of all, it is important to note that Cajuns and Creoles are different.  There aren't many Creoles here in Acadiana and there aren't many Cajuns in New Orleans.  It's like they each took over half the state- kinda sorta.  Here's a map.  The dark red part is where all these Cajuns are.  Thanks Wikipedia!

 "The Cajuns have developed their own dialect, Cajun French, and developed a vibrant culture including folkways, music, and cuisine."- More Wikipedia.  Living around here is very cool to say the least due to the Cajun way of life.  There are TONS of festivals including the most recent 'Festival International de Louisiane' which took place this past weekend.  The festival is HUGE and brings all different 'varieties' of French people to Lafayette.  There's all kinds of music, dancing, food, art and overall a great time.  When Cajuns do their food and music, let me tell you, they do it.  These people don't mess around! 

Creoles, on the other hand, while not drastically different, are different and shouldn't be confused.  "Most modern Creoles have family ties to Louisiana, particularly New Orleans; they are mostly Catholic in religion; through the nineteenth century, most spoke French and were strongly connected to French colonial culture; and they have had a major impact on the state's culture."- What would we do without Wikipedia, really?  I haven't spent much time with Creoles since I am, after all, in the heart of Cajun Country, so I can't offer too much insight.  I can tell you that the two cultures are different-while remaining very similar.

storyvilledistrictnola.com/creoles_nola.html

In the end, I suppose I cannot offer too much in the way of differentiating Cajuns vs. Creoles except to say, that now all my Northern friends will know that there is, in fact a difference and that they exist.  Kind of like armadillos.... only not exactly.

My Top Observations After Flying South- Part One

So here we go!  My first legitimate post after all of that nasty 'get to know me' stuff is outta the way.  I'll just do the top five, one a day until I get to the top one.

5. Wildlife

When I came down here, I knew things would be different, however, what I didn't anticipate was the difference in wildlife.  Whilst in PA, the common vermin were deer, skunk and the occasional racoons.  You could be driving down the road in PA and nail a deer with your car.... in fact my mom did that several times.  It wasn't uncommon to be driving and smell the waft of aromas from a nearby skunk who either sprayed someone's dog or was run over by an International Harvester.  Here, however, wildlife.... is surprising.

Firstly, and most famous due to shows like cult favorite "Swamp People," is the alligator.  The alligator lives in marshy swampy bayou places and lurk.  There are none around me per say- save for the gators in the swamp on campus at UL, but if you go to any swamp you will see them.  I went to a place called 'Avery Island'--you know, where Tabasco Sauce is made and there are Alligators EVERYWHERE. Signs around swamps even warn you not to bring your dogs because well, dogs are tasty. 

Next on the wildlife tour is the armadillo.  While not dangerous, the presence of the armadillo in Louisiana, BLEW MY MIND.  No really, I saw one, dead on the road of all places and I immediately went to work in order to verify that I had, in fact, seen an armadillo.  Look, here.... ARMADILLO

Morguefile.com

I've never seen an alive armadillo though.  I hear they rarely make it to the sprawling metropolis I call home.  If they get to the city, they are roadkill. I have, however, HEARD an armadillo.  Behind my building there is some nature with trees and green and, armadillos. How do I know?  Well, there is a really creepy grunting sounds that come from that area when night comes.  I've googled 'Armadillo Sounds' and it's the same sound.  Creepy.

Finally is something I have only seen once and know very little about.  I am only including because it is rather awesome looking.  The egrate,  

 

I saw this one outside of a gas station.  Just chillin' like a villain.   Like I said, I don't know much about this guy.  So, I'll end this here.

These of course are not the only cool animals here.  We cannot forget the lizards.  The nutrias.  The crawfish.  But these three are by far my favorite three cool wildlife finds.  So there you go.  Louisiana wildlife. 

Until tomorrow.... Maybe.... we shall see.

Yankee on the Bayou

So, let's start with some basics before we get going with this whole blogging experiment. 

I am a Yankee.  Born and bred.  In fact, before moving to southwest Louisiana in October 2011, I had never even BEEN to the south. That's right... never been to Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Texas- ANYWHERE.  I had been to Virginia and maybe North Carolina once, but never much further- and down here, people don't consider those places the south.  Nope, nope, nope.

Continuing on.... Originally, I am from Pennsylvania, or as Pennsylvanians call it, PA.  Yes, born in PA and lived much of my life in PA.  I had spent stints in Minnesota, New York, Maine and even Colorado and California, but probably 19-20 years of my life, my feet have been planted in PA.... until now....

Now I am here.... in Louisiana of all places... why!!!  Well, it so happens I worked for an ill- fated company.  A company driven by a greedy CEO who wanted nothing more, but to sell us.  So, I flew the coup.  Got outta dodge before they could put my feet in the fire.  And here I am!  That's the short version.  I could tell the long version, but then I'd have to type at least five more sentences, and well, neither of us have all night here.

So really, all in all, those are the basics.  I'll keep specific details to myself as, afterall, this in the interweb and you never know who is watching.  Or reading as it were.

Coming up tomorrow, hopefully, I am going to list my top five observations on living down here.  But for now, here is a picture of a gator.  A real life, angry Louisiana alligator.