Goin' County.

A weird phenomenon happens to J and I. . . it occurs every time we go to his hometown, or anywhere in a 45 mile radius around his town. We. Get. Country.

I've mentioned before that Jake's people call Wal-Mart, "The Mall." Well that basically sums it up.

Whenever we get into town, we turn on the local station, scoot in nice and close, and our inner rednecks appear.

It's a serious thing.

We say Southern-y things.

We get our PDA and smooches on.

I wear a lot of make up and hairspray.

J usually sucks on a toothpick. (cinnamon flavored)

At work, our hygienist is from North Carolina. She says things like "Woop woop!" and "Y'all", and I can't forget "Holler," pronounced hall-urrr.

Every time I hear her, which is all the time, I long for trips filled with impersonating accents.

Right now, we are both in desperate need of some small-town time.