A Discombobulated Canerican..

That's me folks. I've decided when people ask me, "What are you?" (which, interestingly happens much more often in Canada than in the States. Actually, I don't think I was ever asked that in the States), my answer is going to be, "Canerican".

I've lived in Canada for 12 years this month. Crazy! As a small town American, who lived in the same town in Colorado for 21 years, I never thought I would be raising my family in Canada.  I never imagined "eh" would be a word I used frequently, or that I would become a major hockey mom (although, I clearly remember when the Avs first came to Colorado, I thought hockey was so cool and I desperately wanted to become a hockey player. Maybe that was a sign?).  I didn't know I would be using terms like "looney" and "tooney" to describe money, rather than a cartoon.

But here I am.  About 1,800 miles (thats 2,896.82 kilometres for you Canadians), from "home".  And that is where the discombobulation comes in. Home. I've been here long enough that now Canada is also home. There is a constant state of confusion inside me. I am always both homesick for Colorado, and very at home living in Canada. I miss the mountains, great blue skies, family and friends, Dos Hombres (I would kill for their chicken taco salad and a margarita), familiarity, and my history in Colorado. But I am so proud and thankful for the life, family, friends, and home that Droid and I have built here in Canada, and can't imagine living anywhere else.

It's weird. I see people that remind me of someone, and I can't place if they remind me of someone from "back home", or here. I am slowly getting the hang of the metric system. Okay, not really. I am actually just confused now, and can't remember how to properly measure anything.  But I did catch myself calling the letter Z, "Zed" the other day, and I'm sure my American friends didn't even realize that Canadians did that! This summer I am going to embark on my first very Canadian tradition of "going to the cottage", which for my Colorado friends, that is the equivalent of "going to Lake Powell".

When I am in Canada, I am teased about being an American. But when I am in the US, I am teased about being a Canadian. It's funny to be on both sides of the fence, and see how neither of the stereotypes are completely true.  Most of my American friends aren't loud jerk faces, and most of my Canadian friends don't live in igloos, wear plaid and say "eh" at the end of every sentence. And now that I've officially offended both of you, I will have to move somewhere else ; )

Sometimes, when it's been a little too long since I've been "back home", I start to worry that I am like a snake shedding skin, and feel too far away from the Colorado in me. But today, Owen and I were walking near a pond and two Canadian geese literally hissed at me. It reassured me that they could probably sense the American in me.

Regardless of where I am, I am beyond thankful for my friends and family on both sides of the border. I love you all! :)