Greatest Hits Volume V

Coming to America as a literary leitmotif has been done to death, most recently to spectacular succes with Borat, and it never fails to amuse the natives, so long as the foreigner has a funny accent. But when you look like an American, and sound like an American, and you emigrated from a country that is more technologically and socially advanced than America, rather than having escaped third world oppression, well, the natives simply can't comprehend why you're having any difficulty. Canada is exactly like America, isn't it? After all, it's right next door to us. How different can it be? Come on, it's not like it's Mexico, or Cuba!

Such has been this half-year as Postmodern Sass aclimatizes into life in America.

October found me settling in to professordom at USJ. Oh, sure, my students poked fun at me from time to time for being Canadian. Who can blame them, eh? There were days when I felt like Mary Tyler Moore at her saddest and most pathetic, and others when I wanted to run away, but then I snapped myself out of it and went in search of hockey. My best friend Kay visited, and we toured the Winchester house. (Who knew there were tourist attractions in San Jose?)

Then there was the whole Neil Gaiman thing, which began with this story.

The fact that it took me ten weeks to get my social security number (and so I couldn't get paid) did nothing to change my opinion that America is ten years behind Canada in technology. (Have I mentioned that they still take cheques in stores? Cheques! Yeah, I know. And they still use those little paper slips in banks, too. Cracks me up.) But later, my faith in America was restored when the O.J. Simpson travesty was cancelled.

In November I celebrated one Canadian holiday and one American one, both with Jack, and I learned that Mardi Gras has a whole new meaning in San Jose.

Winter in northern California means rain, so I stayed inside and unpacked my records. It began to feel more like home when I bought my new bedroom furniture and finally got a sofa. And when I saw my first California hockey game, I was positively verklempt.

The Christmas holidays always bring the blues, but this year I was rescued by my Prince Charming and taken to the land of Hanah Lee. Then I made my New Year's resolutions while sunning myself on his roof.

In January, I got dooced by Dooce, but then I made three new friends: crazy Nadine, Kapp the librarian, and The Italian.

I began to feel more like a real Californian when I got my California driver's license, but gosh, how I miss my baby, and my Daddy.

Looking back on the last six months I have to say that the most entertaining experience I had was my whirlwind trip to Portland for Tequilacon. Because bloggers are simply the best.