CupCate.com

Your mom + olive loaf = American tourists

For those of you who may not know, I was born and raised in California. I lived in the US for 20 years and 10 months. That makes me an American. (Say it with me now: AMMMEEERRRRIIIICAAAAN.)

I have lived in the UK for about a year and a half. I work here. I play here. My toes get really cold here.

Moving to another country isn't the easiest thing in the world, especially when you get the sneaking suspicion that every time you open your mouth and reveal the fact that not only are you foreign, but your from one of the most judged and hated countries in the world, that people are thinking, "Ugh. An American."

Before becoming an Expat, I had only ever experienced sexism, ageism...never racism.

I've had the occasional comment calling me a Yank that should go back to my own country. I was got into a drunken confrontation where I told some little boy to fuck off, and I was immediately shot with, "Where are you from?  WHERE ARE YOU FROM? You should GO BACK TO WHERE YOU'RE FROM."

But other than that, the type of racism I've experienced has been the passive agressive, off-handed comments made by anyone and everyone. Comments that if were made about Africans, Muslims, or Asians, would be branded as offensive and disgusting...but when made about Americans, no one seems to think: "Thats racist and that's not okay."

Watching Have I Got News For You last night, I ignored all the California jokes the presenters made while talking about the horrible fires that are burning up The Sunshine State - but I couldn't help wonder if the same jokes were made about the victims of Hurricane Katrina, would people be outraged?

However, I was pissed off when the host of the show made some off-handed remark like, "Now, I don't hate Americans. I have two initial reactions when talking about them, and that is: the first half of me has this natural hatred of America...and well, the second half of me is exactly the same..." *insert roars of laughter from the audience here*

Sometimes I wonder if people really don't like Americans, or if they're just hopping on the I Hate America bandwagon because they need to get their racism out somehow, and hating the usual suspects just isn't as PC any more. But hey, why not hate America! We sure seem to hate ourselves, so why not? Come on! It's fun! You can mock us with slow southern accents and quote something stupid the President said! Shit, there are books, calendars, and dolls to help perpetuate the hate!

And it's the thing to do, isn't it? Some people dislike Bush, and exercise their freedom of speech because that's what they truly believe. However, it seems like others just buy in to it because, "Hah, we hate Bush! That makes us better than all those other Americans...right?" Sure, there are some jokes that are funny, but I think I at the heart of most of the jokes, it's not just a Bush joke, it's Anti-American joke. And it makes me want to scream.

Scream because somewhere along the line, some parts of the world have now chosen to look at us like we're all a bunch of bumbling, bombing assholes.

Scream because we are so much more than a Fast Food Nation and rednecks and bombs and war and two fallen towers. We are more than obesity and Wal-Mart and Los Angeles.

However, when I ask myself, "Well, then what IS America?" all I can do is get frustrated and cry and grunt and drool and point because I have NO IDEA what America is. How can I even articulate that?

All I know, is that I love country music. I love women like the Dixie Chicks with all my heart. I like McDonalds and the Fourth Of July. I love cowboy boots and my freedom of speech and the fact that when I go back home the girls at Starbucks UNDERSTAND HOW TO MAKE MY FUCKING DRINK, and the waiter at Applebees refils my drink without asking and the cashier at the Safeway looks me in the eye and says THANK YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY MA'AM and when a bunch of Americans are standing in line together, WE TALK.

It's so hard to articulate why I won't apologize for being American, and I think Diablo Cody actually said it best:

Seriously, I don't want to hear any more apologies or red-faced admissions. Stop hating yourself because of where you were born, or the fact that you think putting cookie batter in ice cream was a good idea. Stop hating yourself for taping All My Children or preferring Dean Koontz to Proust. You're a product of your culture like anyone else, and it's not a reflection on your intellect or self-discipline. To me, the phrase "ugly American" is as offensive as "ugly Asian." It's called STEREOTYPING and it's gross.

When I read people stereotyping Americans and dismissing what somebody says simply because they're a fat American, my head practically explodes. When I hear other Americans in the UK talking about how they're "embarassed" by American tourists, it strikes a cord with me. It does. I like to think that I'm better than that...

But then why do I cringe whenever I'm walking through London on my way to work, and I hear some guy with socks and sandals and a bright red Jansport backpack with a University of _______ hat on yelling in his loud-ass American accent,

"HONEY!? Where in the HECK is LIE-CESTER SQUARE!? IS THAT NEAR THAT CON-VENT GARDEN PLACE?"

It's the strangest feeling, staring at someone that could so easily be my Uncle or your Dad or your Grandfather who is by one culture's standards making a complete ass out of himself, and by another's, he's simply just trying to find out where the heck that gosh darn Leicester Square is so he can take a friggin' picture ofthe Odeon theatre.

I understand that when people come over to Europe and the UK, they're not exactly sure of what the hell they're doing. Put me in the centre of Tokyo, and I promise you I'll be doing the exact same thing. Minus the socks and the sandals.

Granted, there are people who simply don't care where you're from. There are some who just LOVE America and want to know everything about where you're from. There are people who treat you just like everyone else, and are smart enough to know that just because your government is run by a nit-wit, that doesn't make you one, too.

I think the cold hard truth is that there are small truths to practically every stereotype that is out there. For those of you who know the Avenue Q song Everyone's A Little Bit Racist, you know what I mean. There are red-neck Americans like Toby Keith who don't believe in freedom of speech and think that putting boots up people's asses is the "American Way". There are Valley Girls from California. There are Fat Americans. There are Soccer Moms that drive mini vans in the suburbs and pretentious Fashionistas in Manhattan.There are even racist people in the south.

And you know what? There are oblivious Americans that live in other countries. There are loud-mouthed Americans on The Tube who talk much too loudly and don't get the London Rule that YOU DON'T TALK ON THE TUBE. There a Americans that mispronounce cities and the names of Tube stops because, no matter how innocently, they don't care if they pronounce it wrong.
 
And then there are the Americans that sat next to me the other night at dinner, they didn't care how FUCKING ANNOYING they were, or how loudly they were talking.

"So, like, my Dad has a Masters Degree in Theology, but like, I've created my own religion."

"Wow, really?"

"Yeah. Like, for example, I believe that, like, Jesus was married, to Mary Magdeline."

"Wow, really?"

"Yeah, like, cuz have you seen Jesus Christ Superstar, and stuff?"

"Wow. Yeah."

"Okay, cuz like, I have the soundtrack and stuff, and it totally explains that."

"Wow. Yeah. What I don't get is, like, The Bible."

"Wow, really?"

"Yeah, cuz like, it says that men are better than women, and that's just, like, stupid."

"No. I know! And like, how society teaches us that men can't cry in public! That's like, so stupid."

"Wow, I know.Society does teach us that."

"Society totally does,teach us that and stuff."

"Yeah, what society teaches us...puh-leeze."

This conversation took place between a a boy and a girl, both probably about 22-years-old, and they took themselves, like, totally seriously.

I was dying. I kept thinking, "Jesus christ. Is this how Americans sound to everyone else?"

It made me incredibly self-conscious. I remember telling Iain, "It scares me that people will overhear this conversation, and only take in to account that they're American, and they must be so stupid and ignorant because they're American."

And that's the struggle I face. I know that the rest of the world is so eager and quick to dismiss people not because they're stupid, not because they're immature, inconsiderate or even arrogant: they dismiss them because they think that they must be that way BECAUSE they're American.

I think for Expats seeing Americans how some people in the rest of the world sees us can be very tough. I'm not embarrassed to be American. I'm not even embarrassed BY other Americans. It just makes me cringe when I see Americans acting in a stereotypical way.

I suppose the best way to describe what if feels like when I hear an American acting like a "stereotypical American", is that it's like being in high school and having your mom show up on campus wearing her ratty old bathrobe and curlers in her hair screaming,

 "SUGAR PIE! YOU FORGOT YOUR OLIVE LOAF SANDWICH WITH THE CRUST CUT OFF!!!"

It's slightly mortifying, but you're also very aware of the fact that you shouldn't care what other people think about your mom. You know her intentions are good and innocent, and that she's just being herself. You even sort of envy her blissful ignorance...however, at the same time, she's still a crazy lady screaming about olive loaf in her bathrobe.

Now, I could choose to blush and sit there thinking, "FOR FUCK SAKE, MOM! Why can't just learn to fit in! Do you have to wear that stupid bathrobe!? Can't you just keep your voice down and learn how to pronounce the cities of the places your visiting?!"

Or I could just smile, not worry about it, take the sandwich, point which direction Lie-cester Square is, and carry on with my day.

In the green room at Sky News. On in 30.

 

**Update** Hi! About four hours ago I was asked to talk about what I think of the Learning and Skills Council saying that WAGs are good role models because they have "at least 5 good GCSE" or a degree. I, of course, begged to differ so they asked me to come on and *debate* with Nicola T and an MP. I think I talked for four seconds. 2 of which I looked into the wrong camera, but it was liiiiive television, baby!

I'm still here.

As you have probably noticed, it's been quiet around here lately.

There is no particular reason. I love this blog and I love you guys who read it when I post once in a blue moon, or send me threatening emails to let me know that if I don't post again soon, you'll have my first born.

I'm sorry that I haven't been updating as much. I know "sorry" is a weird thing to say, but I think I'm more so apologizing to myself. I miss writing, and I miss having the time to sit in my PJs and curl up on the couch and write about whatever comes into my frosting filled brain.

Time is always going to be an issue, and I'm trying to figure out a way to work through that.

I'm also busy working through some other stuff. No, no one has died. No, Iain and I are not getting d-i-v-o-r-c-e-d. No, I'm not pregnant. No, I don't hate my job.

In fact, everything is absolutely wonderful.

And that's the problem.

I've spent the past two years on fire. I've been pummeling my way through life, reaching one step, and then seeing how quick it will take me to reach the next. Tomorrow will be the the two year anniversary of the night I emailed Iain for the first time. Thinking back, it seems like such a really fucking long time ago.

Since then, I really have become a writer. I write for a living. Back in California, standing in my syrup covered shoes, and coffee smeared apron, telling people I wanted to write, I only ever heard, "Don't you need a degree for that?"

I've been taking time to heal lately. To slow down. To look around me each and every day and realize where I am, and realize I don't need to just keep my head down and run to the next stage of my life.

I never like to tell people that I'm hurting, or that I'm sad, or that I'm depressed. I don't want people to see me imperfect, or broken. I don't want to hear useless, unsolicited advice. I don't want you to tell me to keep my chin up, or to smile, or ask me if I need a hug.

I ask very few for help. And those who I have asked, have given me more help than I could ever be prepared for.

Slowly, surely, I'm looking forward to each day, again. I'm realizing that I can be down. That I can let myself be down.

I am far from perfect. I just need to get back to a place where I am comfortable being still. My daily challenges have always been to "unclench" and to be "still". These are things I don't really know how to do, but I'm starting to catch myself in moments where I realize that HOLY SHIT I'm still. I'm in the moment. I'm not worrying about a million different things at once.

Depression is a funny thing. For me, it's a private thing that I don't like to glorify or admit. I don't want to write poems about it, or share with you the frightening internal dialog that runs through my mind on my darkest days. That's not me.

In my process of slowing, I really hope to be back in a place where I can write here as often as I'd like to. Maybe I'll be in a place where I can write something other than my emotional diarrhea as soon as tomorrow. Maybe Saturday. Maybe next Friday. I'm not sure.

I guess I just wanted to say that I want to be here and that I miss it.

To Do: get laid, get a life, pull wellie out of mouth, go back to own country...

One of my all time favorite bloggers, you may have heard of her, likes to do these special posts called  "Exclaimation Point!" where she posts excerpts from all of the hatemail and shitty comments she gets.

I would now like to take this opportunity to share with you some of my favorite hatemail/comments because just keeping them to myself isn't nearly as fun as sharing them with all of you.

On Dollymix, I wrote a post about the new TV show that's like the UK's version of Laguna Beach. I'd say the name here, but these kids like to set up Google alerts on their names, and then get all their drunk coked up friends to leave me comments. Gotta love their enthusiasm.

But anyhoo. I wrote this post saying, "Oh great, another TV show about spoiled teenagers." and I got a large variety of very wise comments from some very articulate young people:

cupcake - u r obviously very jealous and actually if you think about it - you've actually taken the time to write this and go on the website and analyse.. a very jealous person

shut th hel up u snooty fckin narrowminded wallposting on th internet loser! hahahaha mate. GIMP

HaHa Cupcate got slatered!

cupcate babe,
if you watch the show, which im sure you will as im sure you have nothing better to do than sit at home all night, judging by the fact that you dont seem to care about your own appearance....
you're a fucking jealous bitch
get a life babe x

Awesome. Another young man was enraged that I had a problem with the website "My Free Implants".

Well, in response to 'cupcake's' blog, I certainly DO hope you throw your laptop out the window, and take a framing hammer to your desk-top if you have one...! Keep opinions grounded in the 1800's to yourself, my friend.

Find a cause just 'slightly' better to stand behind, like some very serious environmental issues, political concerns, SOMETHING!! And as far as the BAAPS is concerned, WHO FREAKING CARES what they think??

You REALLY need to get a life, or get laid, or stop wasting your time judging women who decide to seek help for whatever reason, and as for the men who donate their money to these same women?

grow up, get a life, get with the current century, and most of all, get off the NET - You don't belong here!!

General fuckery:

Darling, your a gas! One of your cupcake wellies is sticking out your arse. Oh sorry...it's your mouth.

So, you're one of those. And you fancy yourself all cutting edge and hilarious, right? Aren't you original!

And because racism is always fun..

You can always go back to your own country, it will be no loss for us. Are you one of these here Yankie dolls that wants to be British? God, not another one. The country is full up with people like you now, can't you go somewhere else? If you are genuinely concerned with liberating women, and it's not just a load of old vodka and tart fumes, please go to Afghanistan and get stuck in.

However, my favorite backhanded, incredibly confusing compliment(?) is...

I find you disgustingly erotic, intellectually bipolar,  and haphazardly stylish.  Therefore, I will be back for more and hope to comment on a few in the future if you don't mind, that is? 

I'm not even sure what that means, but it made my morning. Getting hateful, hurtful, and ridiculous comments has helped me grow tougher skin, as if I believed most of what people said about me, I would have surely quit my job and thrown myself out a window by now.

What's the worst comment you've ever received? (And hopefully it wasn't on Vox!)