It's Official, Folks. I'm Canadian.

I decided to write about this today because I thought the Canadian flag would clash nicely with the magenta pigs, eliciting further comments about my lack of design skills. But really this revelation occurred over the weekend when the hairdresser stopped me midsentence to ask, "Are you from Canada?"



Now these days it is much more common for me to be misidentifed as male, as you can see in this list of things I am often mistaken for:

1. a man
2. a Canadian
3. a Canadian man*

which means that lately any issues with my national identity have been put on the backburner**. But when the hairdresser became one of the countless people in my life who have posed this question to me, I realized I needed to address the issue.

It baffles me. Hockey is my least favorite sport and I can't figure out where I would have picked up this subtle Northern North American accent. But I kind of like being Canadian. It makes me feel special. It lets me be different, but not in a way that causes awkward situations. I've never gotten looks that say, "Why are you, a Canadian, in the American bathroom?"

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*This is less common because most gender judgments are made before hearing my at least somewhat-feminine voice while most Canadian judgments are made after hearing my at least somewhat-feminine voice (with it's oddly Canadian pronunciation).

** Although I accidentally turned on the front burner instead when I went to boil them.