These are the days...

... I realize that I really do live in a different country. It's so funny to me. Canada is right across the border from the US, right... I mean, Canadians are just our "neighbors to the North". Better yet, our house in Michigan is within 30 or 45 minutes of the border. How different could it really be?! The answer: very different. Sometimes I think they think I'm an alien. Case in point:

I had a business dinner last night at a very nice Italian restaurant, which somehow turned into a conversation about All-You-Can-Eat Buffets. One of my coworkers mentioned that he was on a business trip to the Atlanta area several years ago, and his customer was so excited to take him to an All-You-Can-Eat Buffet because... well, because apparently they don't have them in Canada. And if you do happen to find one, it's a special treat. Like a put-on-your-Sunday-best, say-yes-ma'am-and-please-and-thank-you, you-only-get-it-once-in-your-life kind of treat.

Enter the Southern accent! "Y'all don't have buffets?!" "Bless your heart!" "Where does everyone go after church on Sunday?" "Imagine the dessert selection at those places!" "You're missin' out, really missin' out."

I grew up in Georgia, people... I think it's the homeland of All-You-Can-Eat Buffets. I started explaining the bagillions of buffets we had at home, and the frequency at which we dined at such establishments, and I'm fairly certain I dropped a few notches on the "Americans aren't so bad" scale. I think we ate at Shoney's once a week. And I'm fairly certain I've never seen a Shoney's menu. Or what about Ryan's. That was a buffet, too, right, especially for the church crowd on Sundays. And we can't neglect CiCi's pizza or the Pizza Hut buffet, because we all need to eat that much pizza. But I think my favorite, and the one my Canadian counterparts found most appalling, was the Hartz buffet... a buffet of fried chicken and mashed potatoes and biscuits and corn and peach cobbler... yum yum yum!

Then the conversation turned. I honestly think they were just trying to get a reaction out of me, make me feel completely alien. Next subject: the church potluck. This coworker of mine was talking about a family vacation to a park in South Carolina and the fact that the after-church crowd showed up with mounds of food and a barbeque in their pickup. A "barbeque"? Oh, he means a grill. And is it really that strange? Really? I mean, how else are you gonna feed all those people. I'm Baptist y'all. The one thing we know how to do is eat. We had lots of church picnics... and potlucks... and "progressive suppers" in the back of a dumptruck filled with hay. Totally normal. Especially the dumptruck part.

At work today, I was asked by three different girls to bring back jars of peanut butter when I go home this weekend. Yes, peanut butter. You see, they sell peanut butter in Canada (though it's completely banned in schools - the horror!), but they don't sell Reese's peanut butter. Did these girls try my peanut butter? No. They want it simply because it's Reese's and they can't get it here. And I'm supposed to bring back a few Whatchamacallit bars, too, because apparently they don't have those in Canada either. And some Warm Vanilla Sugar soap from Bath & Body Works. Again, another thing lacking from the Canadian lifestyle. And Target. I need to find a way to get Target to open a store or two in Canada because I'm having withdrawals. Major withdrawals.

Someone rescue me please. I've been abducted by aliens... or just some crazy Canadians!