Before everyone gets their panties in a bunch regarding my last post and the "Italians" on Staten Island, let me first say that yours truly has been the subject to many a prejudice here in New York City. I am the first generation on both my mother and my father's side to not be born and raised in New York. If I lived in the mid to late 19th century, my Irish roots would be subject to prejudice. If I grew up in New York in the early 20th century, my Italian ancestry would be the subject of ridicule and persecution. I am basically New York City scum. The combination of two of the dirtiest ethnicities to ever walk these streets. Good thing this is the 21st century, and people are a little more open minded to other peoples' cultures and races. Um, right.
My Irish/Italian heritage is not what makes me feel persecuted here in New York. And no, it's not being female either. I kinda like having the construction workers and delivery men call me "sweet tits". What causes that glazed over look that I receive from all New Yorkers from Canarsie to Pelham is when I say the dreaded words, "I'm from Minnesota".
So now let me give you a little back history of my life. Like I said before, my sisters and cousins are the first generations on both sides of my family to grow up outside New York City. My parents lived and met across the street from each other in Sheepshead Bay in Brooklyn. My dad joined the Navy so my parents packed up and moved. My family lived all over the United States and abroad before I was born as is customary when a kid has a parent in the military. When I was born, my dad was serving in Jacksonville, Fl. When I was a year old, we packed up (well I didn't pack as much as just lie there and cry) and moved to a suburb of DC in northern VA so my dad could take a job at the Pentagon. Six years after that, my dad retired from the Navy to Minnesota where he worked for a company designing torpedos that had defense contracts with the government. Let's just say when world peace broke out with the collapse of the USSR, my family was one of the few negatively affected. My dad lost his job, but he liked it so much in Minnesota that rather than moving to another company to work in defense, we stayed.
So despite living in Minneapolis for 15+ years, I never considered myself truly midwestern. My parents have travelled all over the world. Crap, I almost considered myself more New York than Minnesotan. I chose Iowa over Wisconsin and Penn State because it was the best school at the time for pre-med/microbiology, what I originally wanted to study. When I started dating my ex-boyfriend, who went to the prestigous Amherst College, full of over privelaged East Coasters, I was quite surprised at the reactions I would get when I would tell them where I went to school.
"University of Iowa? More like University of CORN!" OK so no one actually said that, but I can definitely tell they were thinking it. Luckily there were a few people there from my high school, so they weren't completely dumbfounded by the fact I was from Minnesota. This weekend I was speaking with a guy who went to Duke. Same thing. I told him where I went to school, he told me I was a hick. I still put out anyways cause I'm easy like that, but I don't think North Carolina is the state known for haute cuisine and refined culture. No offense to all you NC people out there.
And don't get me started about how many people who actually live in Manhattan, are college educated, and could not place Minnesota out on a map. I can't even tell you how many people have confused Michigan with Minnesota, and when corrected reply, "oh all those M states in the middle are the same". Um, what? How the fuck did you get into Harvard and you can't even name all 50 states? Am I crazy here?
Then there are the select few who have actually heard of Minnesota
and can hold a conversation with me regarding my great state. It goes something like this:
Me: "Hi, my name is Megan. I am from Minnesota."
Them: "Oh, like Fargo, eh? Wanna go for a ride on the boooat?"
Me: "I don't have an accent."
Them: "Oh, I know. I just like the movie."
Me: "Fargo is in North Dakota actually."
Them: "Oh..."
or maybe like this:
Me: "Hi, my name is Megan. I am from Minnesota."
Them: "Oh so do you know Prince? Or Kirby Puckett?"
Me: "Actually there are other great people that hail from the state of Minnesota. Like Bob Dylan, the great Walter Mondale, Soul Asylum (ok, maybe not), Bobby McFerrin (HELLO! Don't Worry Be Happy!) Josh Hartnett, Stiffler, Rod Carew, James J. Hill, Paul Wellstone (RIP), Tim O'Brien...I can go on."
Them: "SO you don't actually know Prince or Kirby Puckett?"
Me: "No, but Kirby lived in the same town as me. And so does Karl Polad. That asshole. I've got his fucking outdoor stadium right here!"
Them: "Oh..."
and then there is this:
Me: "Hi, my name is Megan. I am from Minnesota."
Them: "What is that? Like the Land o' Lakes?"
Me: "Um, actually that's the butter. It's actually the 'Land of 10,000 Lakes'"
Them: "Oh..."
My Irish/Italian heritage is not what makes me feel persecuted here in New York. And no, it's not being female either. I kinda like having the construction workers and delivery men call me "sweet tits". What causes that glazed over look that I receive from all New Yorkers from Canarsie to Pelham is when I say the dreaded words, "I'm from Minnesota".
So now let me give you a little back history of my life. Like I said before, my sisters and cousins are the first generations on both sides of my family to grow up outside New York City. My parents lived and met across the street from each other in Sheepshead Bay in Brooklyn. My dad joined the Navy so my parents packed up and moved. My family lived all over the United States and abroad before I was born as is customary when a kid has a parent in the military. When I was born, my dad was serving in Jacksonville, Fl. When I was a year old, we packed up (well I didn't pack as much as just lie there and cry) and moved to a suburb of DC in northern VA so my dad could take a job at the Pentagon. Six years after that, my dad retired from the Navy to Minnesota where he worked for a company designing torpedos that had defense contracts with the government. Let's just say when world peace broke out with the collapse of the USSR, my family was one of the few negatively affected. My dad lost his job, but he liked it so much in Minnesota that rather than moving to another company to work in defense, we stayed.
So despite living in Minneapolis for 15+ years, I never considered myself truly midwestern. My parents have travelled all over the world. Crap, I almost considered myself more New York than Minnesotan. I chose Iowa over Wisconsin and Penn State because it was the best school at the time for pre-med/microbiology, what I originally wanted to study. When I started dating my ex-boyfriend, who went to the prestigous Amherst College, full of over privelaged East Coasters, I was quite surprised at the reactions I would get when I would tell them where I went to school.
"University of Iowa? More like University of CORN!" OK so no one actually said that, but I can definitely tell they were thinking it. Luckily there were a few people there from my high school, so they weren't completely dumbfounded by the fact I was from Minnesota. This weekend I was speaking with a guy who went to Duke. Same thing. I told him where I went to school, he told me I was a hick. I still put out anyways cause I'm easy like that, but I don't think North Carolina is the state known for haute cuisine and refined culture. No offense to all you NC people out there.
And don't get me started about how many people who actually live in Manhattan, are college educated, and could not place Minnesota out on a map. I can't even tell you how many people have confused Michigan with Minnesota, and when corrected reply, "oh all those M states in the middle are the same". Um, what? How the fuck did you get into Harvard and you can't even name all 50 states? Am I crazy here?
Then there are the select few who have actually heard of Minnesota
and can hold a conversation with me regarding my great state. It goes something like this:Me: "Hi, my name is Megan. I am from Minnesota."
Them: "Oh, like Fargo, eh? Wanna go for a ride on the boooat?"
Me: "I don't have an accent."
Them: "Oh, I know. I just like the movie."
Me: "Fargo is in North Dakota actually."
Them: "Oh..."
or maybe like this:
Me: "Hi, my name is Megan. I am from Minnesota."
Them: "Oh so do you know Prince? Or Kirby Puckett?"
Me: "Actually there are other great people that hail from the state of Minnesota. Like Bob Dylan, the great Walter Mondale, Soul Asylum (ok, maybe not), Bobby McFerrin (HELLO! Don't Worry Be Happy!) Josh Hartnett, Stiffler, Rod Carew, James J. Hill, Paul Wellstone (RIP), Tim O'Brien...I can go on."
Them: "SO you don't actually know Prince or Kirby Puckett?"
Me: "No, but Kirby lived in the same town as me. And so does Karl Polad. That asshole. I've got his fucking outdoor stadium right here!"
Them: "Oh..."
and then there is this:
Me: "Hi, my name is Megan. I am from Minnesota."
Them: "What is that? Like the Land o' Lakes?"
Me: "Um, actually that's the butter. It's actually the 'Land of 10,000 Lakes'"
Them: "Oh..."
So you get the hint. Yes, I went to school in Iowa, but I can guarantee you all you other assholes would have had the best 4 years of your life as I did there. And yes, I am from Minnesota, but I swear if one more person talks to me in that fucking Minnesota accent, prepare for your trachea to meet the side of my hand. Chuck Norris style. And if any of you guys decide after reading this post you would like to be schooled on the ways of the 'sota, I would suggest watching the Mighty Ducks. I can't even tell you how many times as a child growing up in I had to write on a chalk board "I will not quack at the teacher."
1,2,3, TRIPLE DEEK! GORDON BOMBAY 4 EVA!
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