Far enough from Fargo

As I sit here and blog my toes are frozen. It’s this weird thing that happens to my feet every winter. My toes turn white and then they go numb—even if I have socks AND shoes on! Frank will sit on them, we’ll run them under hot water, he’ll even put them in his armpit. (Thea—who is anti-feet—is not liking this right now.)

But I guess that’s what you have to deal with when you live in the cold North. Sometimes I hear Al Roker talking about other places that are even colder than Dallas. Like Fargo, North Dakota where it was like 15 below today. I guess if I moved there my toes would just fall off. Yes, I would get off the plane, look down and I’d be toeless.

So I’m not moving to Fargo, North Dakota. And it's not just the cold. I also can’t move there because of the absence of queso. Do you know that people outside of Texas don’t even know what queso is? Sure, they act like they do but if you order it you’re either going to get a cup of shredded cheese or if you’re somewhere semi-southern, they’ll bring a bowl of some white mush. If I lived in Fargo I would have to always have a block of Velveeta and Rotel on hand so I could make it in my queso maker. But do they even have Rotel in Fargo? By the way, did you know that Rotel was invented in Elsa, Texas? How could I leave?

And although I still argue that I DO NOT have any sort of Texas accent, I’m not sure the Fargoians (Fargonites?) would understand me. You see, I once met some people from Minnesota at my friend Jessi’s wedding. I’m gonna lump them in with Fargoians; It’s all the same to me. We got into the whole dialect discussion: You know, Coke v. pop, y’all v. you guys, etc. One of the girls asked me, “What do you call that thing that you carry around that has a strap and you put stuff in it like books or clothes?” I answered, “A bag.” She started laughing and told her fellow Minnesotians (Minnesotites?), “See? She said it! I told you she would!!” I asked, “How do you say it?” She said, “Duh! It’s BEG!”

Obviously the lack of queso has affected their brains. Plus, the fact that their toes have fallen off probably doesn't help. I pity these people.

So I’ll just stay right here in Texas where it’s cold enough as it is. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go put my toes in the oven.

You can't tell but I'm trying to spell out "Help! My toes are frozen!" with my breath.