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Misplaced in the Midwest: Teasers from Sarah Moon’s-blog-to-be

There’s something really important you need to understand: I hail from Atlanta, Georgia.
When I first prepared to come to Minnesota, everyone warned me how different things would be “up there.” In typical fashion, I didn’t really believe them. Yeah, I knew it would be cold, and yeah, there had to be a reason it’s called “Minnesota nice,” but how different could it be, really? As I found out when I got here, the answer is: actually, a lot.
Usually it’s a good kind of different, like how you don’t have to race cars at the crosswalk. Sometimes it’s a not-so-pleasant different, such as shoveling out a friend’s car. But it’s different, and that’s something I’d like people to understand. With that in mind, I’ve started taking photos for a blog named “Misplaced in the Midwest.” It’ll be a day-by-day chronicling of all the epic, frozen, nice, silly, Nordic, blonde, Midwestern, oh-goodness things that I’ve come to love about this great state.

Remember that “Minnesota nice” thing? Turns out, you don’t have to be from Minnesota to have it. This wonderful woman keeps me laughing when things aren’t quite going my way. Also, she understands what I mean by “South”.

Of course, Minnesotans have a great sense of humor where snow is involved. Observe: Snowman enjoying the Adirondack. Makes sense. Those things are comfy!

I’m not sure if it’s a Minnesota thing, or a St Olaf thing, but the community here is wonderful. Case in point: our RA snuck into our room late one night/early one morning to fill it with balloons for my roommate’s 20th birthday. What a great surprise in the morning!

This is a Minnesota thing: standing out in the snow like it’s not even cold. Of course, it helps when your fancy wear can double as winter gear.

My mom always told me to put my best foot forward. She also told me that she was sending me with boots that had traction, or I’d end up in traction, but that’s another story all together.

Important lessons learnt in Minnesota: if snow squeaks or crunches, go ahead! You’re safe. If it crackles or, worse, makes no sound at all? Alley-oops!


When Southerners ask me to describe Minnesota, I know what they’re expecting to hear: it’s cold, people are nice, they serve this insane thing called “lutefisk”. So they’re generally pretty surprised when I just grin and say, “it’s like living on a Christmas card.”

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