It’s interesting, being a Californian in New York City. Although I don’t notice it, New Yorkers say that I have an accent; and, without fail, the magical word ‘California’ evokes images of sandy beaches, tanned bodies, and celebrities. Although I can’t necessarily blame New York; Californians have a similar idea in spirit, if not in specifics, of the Big Apple.

New Yorkers say that I’m a Californian; Californians say that I’m Canadian. It’s a bit of an interesting dichotomy, albeit an understandable one. Talk to me long enough and you’ll understand. The accent never fails to surface. But the question then arises: why on earth does a Californian have a Canadian accent? (And how on earth does someone the colour of sour cream survive in California?) Continue reading The Adventures of a Californian-Canadian →