THE AMERICAN GIRL

At least that's what I'm known as at work.

My coworkers have at least remembered, through repeated tutoring, that I am CANADIAN - a North American of an entirely different breed. But when customers are asked at the till, "Who helped you today?", they reply - "The American girl".

It's interesting being the odd one out for a change. Ray and I are getting a taste of what so many Vancouver residents experience when they immigrate to Canada - different accent, different traditions, all that good stuff. People at work tell me they love my accent, and it seems silly to me. What accent??? Looking at the situation from a different angle, I've already stopped noticing everyone else's accent - it sounds totally normal to hear people in the shop and on the street. I'm so assimilated that I don't even notice the children's accents anymore, which I thought would always stand out to me.

But fear not, friends back home - I am not becoming pseudo-British, like Madonna. As far as I can tell, I still sound like a Canadian (or an American!!) and have yet to get a mullet.

Speaking of mullets, and rambling on in a barely coherent manner (just got home from work late tonight)...had an amusing experience at work today regarding my appearance. A girl a few years younger than me was walking around the store, handing out brochures (note: I did not see that she was handing out brochures). On her way out, she passed one to me - what is it that makes me automatically take those annoying scraps of paper from just anyone when they are thrust towards me?? - and I saw that it was an advertisement for hair and makeup services. Clearly, the girl thought I was in need of her professional help. Does she not realize that now that I work at a quasi-trendy shop that I am far, far too cool for such things? And just what is wrong with the way I look???