and then our exile

Yesterday three of us were walking through HUB, dodging all these University People.

Leigh [tall white guy who wears jeans] to me: So, where are you originally from?
For a split second, crazy ideas for answers entered my head with a boom. But then I decided not to--overall, he seems ["seems, madam? nay, it is; i know not 'seems'"; act one scene two] like a decent enough person, and besides, the question is routine, so I won't be mean or anything. I tried answering 'normally'--a longish answer of something to the effect of born in Saskatoon and lived in Pakistan for eight and a half years.
But then, I couldn't resist: "and where are *you* originally from?"
He was taken aback for another split second [white Canadians don't originate anywhere] before answering St. Paul, while Lara & I exchanged looks of suppressed laughter.

Kind of reminds me of Farooq [who's in the fa sheezy ma neezy loop] in the bank.
Teller: You know, you speak really good English!
Farooq: You do too!

But, where *am* I from, originally? Montreal, born in Saskatoon, but I don't feel Saskatonian, though I do feel with the city to a certain extent. And, I don't feel Pakistani either, though I feel with the country as well. Neither European nor Arab, Canadian nor Pakistani, I identify myself with me. Which makes such instances as Tony *zzi of the HSMUN asking how long we'd been in Canada a cause for hilarity rather than alienation. Which is good.

I kept on seeing people I know yesterday.

On yet another note, though, I wonder what writing on one of these blogger [blech] things shows about a person. I try to distance myself from such. and am therefore not quite sure why i'm here. I think I'm going to go eat a cookie. Good night.