Eat the Fried Pickles, But Not Okra

Hello Fabulous Fried Green Pickle Readers,

I’m Krista from One Hundred & Eighty One Days, and I am lucky enough to be in the lineup to keep y’all entertained this week while the lovely Megan is off enjoying drinks with umbrellas in ‘em. So, for my guest blog, I thought I’d share with you all how I know our Fried Green Pickles gal!

During my senior year of high school, just as things began to turn gray and cold in my hometown of Chicago, I was faced with the decision of where I was going to attend college the following year. I envisioned myself walking on a cobblestone path through a sunny, palm tree-lined campus quad and spending my weekends screaming alongside diehard football fans. It wasn’t long before my mom and I headed to Columbia to visit the University of South Carolina. The Saturday we visited, the Gamecocks claimed a home win over the rivaled Clemson Tigers for the first time since 1987 and the campus was alive with victory. (Side story: Little did I know, my future husband who I met some seven years later in Las Vegas, was at that game as an alumni that weekend.) To say the school won me over would be an extreme understatement and the next morning, my mom and I both left Cola knowing I was a going to be a Gamecock.

After making it all official, I decided to go through the online USC Roomate Finder in the hopes that at the very least, I wouldn’t be stuck with some country bumpkin roommate that couldn’t understand my ChiiicAHgo accent.  I perused through the endless pictures of tiny blondes with big, white smiles (they just breed y’all beautiful down there, don’t they?), and decided to contact Megan, who to me, looked very down to earth and friendly. Soon, we got on the phone and to be honest, I couldn’t understand a dang thing she said, let alone hear her (how she was so quiet when she had put “cheerleader” as a high school activity on her roommate profile was beyond me). But I just loved her, and I must have had some exotic lure as a brunette, Yankee as well because we decided to be roomies.

Before we knew it, we were piling all our crap into our tiny Patterson dorm room and hugging our parents goodbye. And it didn’t take long after for me to discover that Megan, can in fact, become Cheerleader-loud when excited. She was the best roomie/translator of all things southern a Yankee girl could ask for... she educated me on what southern foods to eat (fried anything, especially pickles) and what to avoid (cafeteria okra, ew), translated what those Rock Hill-area folks had to say (holy accent batman), took me out with friends she knew, and even brought me with her to Summerville for some home cooking on the weekends. We tailgated together, went to see John Mayer in Charleston, and spent one long night throwing pennies at the cricket (Who we named “Shut the heck up”) living in our dorm room vents to keep him from chirping throughout the night.

So, to Megan- my favorite freshman year roomie who I miss dearly and hope to see again someday soon!!! I will never see pickles without thinking of you!