UhMuhriCuns

I give Americans a hard time. I really do. In my mind especially. I think that I'm a product of very proud Canadian upbringing and that has caused me to 'hate-on' Americans probably more than I should.

I've had really good interactions with Americans (holla to my American friends in Romania and Casablanca!). They were always nice to me and I like them.

Why is it then, that whenever I expect to come into contact with my buddies to the south that I automatically put my guard up and expect rudeness? Have I watched (and hysterically laughed at) “Talking To American's" one too many times?

When I was on my disasterous trip to the States earlier this week, and my plans got thrown to the wind, and I was stranded in a pretty crappy city, I was doing my best to hold it together. Trying not to imagine being beside a hot pool as I slogged through miserable weather in an unfamiliar city as I searched for the items required for me and Bethany's survival in a foreign land (calling card, apple juice, and soda crackers). I was overwhelmed with caring for my sister (who BTW had food poisoning), being in a country I don’t fully appreciate, in an unknown area, with no cell phone. I was frustrated, overwhelmed, tired and trying to be the strong independent woman that I am. As I searched for my items I anticipated rudeness and bad attitudes and no help.

As I searched all around the Bellingham WalMart I started to get dismayed because there were no international calling cards. At all. My cashier was super friendly, helped me look for one (which they didn’t have) and Dr. Phil’d me (that’s right, I verbed Dr. Phill) and I spilled my whole story about the sickenss and the cancelled plans and the being from Canada. He got a manager to try to track down a calling card for me and when there wasn’t one in the WalMart he suggested another store, gave me excellent directions, told me some good soup broths to feed my sister and as I was leaving he slipped me his phone number as a personal security guard in case I needed help with anything. That is the type of kindness I needed that day. All week I’ve been thinking of, praying for, and praising God for Big Mike Sheri.

So Americans, I apologize to you. Especially the girl at store number 3 that didn’t have a calling card and I almost bit your head off in a panic. I’m sorry I think so badly of you. I still believe we won the War of 1812, and I still hold that you are not as awesome as Canada, but you are decent even if you did give us Lady Gaga.