#10: We don't get mad (or do we?)
Ha, ha, ha. Good old Minnesota weather.
I sit with my back to the window in my office (yes, yes, I am a lucky girl with an office and a window) and I just turned around. The sunny 26-degree day has suddenly turned into a near white-out blizzard, complete with unfortunate students from across the road leaning at 45 degree angles to keep from being toppled by the howling wind. I'm not sure if snow is actually coming down or if it is just being blown around. Gives me chills just to look at it.
Turn up the space heater. Ahhh. All better. And now the sun is coming out again. Tsk. That Mother Nature sure has a sense of humor for us here up north. You southerners and your "consistent" weather patterns. You have not experienced real weather until you wear shorts and your winter coat on the same day (and not because you are trying to make a fashion statement. Good Midwesterners don't make fashion statements).
I'm not a native Minnesotan. There are times when I don't even like to admit that I've become a Minnesotan. All that "hot dish" instead of "casserole" nonsense. But I think it's past denying at this point. I've lived here for 18 years. I say "pop" instead of "soda." I go to "the laaayke" (you know THE lake in Minnesota) to ride in the "beau-at" (boat, for you non-Minnesotans out there). I wear a winter coat under or over my Halloween costume every year. And I know the answer when posed with the following tricky question:
"What's a muskie?"
It is a very large fish with big teeth that apparently no one knows exists except Minnesotans, several Wisconsinites and a few other people living in midwestern states. Google came up with a bunch of fishing sites (which I didn't care enough to post here) but dictionary.com and encyclopedia.com both failed to tell me what exactly a muskie (or musky) is. They did tell me, however, that Edward Sixtus Muskie was a Democratic U.S. senator from Maine from 1958 to 1980 and served as U.S. secretary of state from 1980-1981.
Now aren't we all feeling a little smarter for knowing that?
I also know that there is no such thing as Minnesota nice. Oh sure, you may think so the first time you visit here. But really, Minnesotans are just highly accomplished at repression. I don't know if it has something to do with Scandinavian heritage, the abundance of Lutherans or the freezing cold weather (quick message to people on the East coast: Buck up! I do not pity you one little bit.), but everyone here is really, really good at putting on a happy face even when they are seething inside.
A quick example from my buddy Megs... (that's always the best way to start a story: dot dot dot ...)
"Was walking through the lunchroom with a large styrofoam cup I grabbed from near the pop machines, as I've done countless times before--we get free milk, so I was gonna use this big one to get some milk for my cereal instead of using the tiny dixie cup glasses they provide.
As I was walking past the cashiers, I was stopped and told I would have to pay 10 cents for the cup. Mind you, I wasn't purchasing anything; I was merely grabbing a cup and walking to the milk machines outside the cafeteria. Unbelieving, I said, 'Well, I guess I don't want the cup, because I didn't bring any money.'
So the lady took the cup back! The cup that I had been holding and fiddling with. I'm sure she was going to put it back in the stack. If I was someone else, I don't think I'd want to grab the cup that had already been man-handled.
Seriously, I've taken the cups from there for 2 years...what the hell? I've decided that those with very little authority (like cashiers) tend to lord what miniscule amount they have over others. It's these times that I wish I had no morals or boundaries and could go completely apeshit and scream, 'Are you [expletive] insane?! It's a [expletive] styrofoam cup, for [expletive] sake. Get a [expletive] life, [expletive]!!!!' ah, if only...."
Thus ends Megs' sad, sad tale. See, she couldn't even tell off an old lady (who was probably wearing a hair net) who was clearly in the wrong. Megs probably smiled sickly back at the lunch lady, got her two dixie cups and walked back to her cubicle to email me about how upset she was. Which is fine. Better to blow off steam one way or another than to let it sit and boil (which, unfortunately, I am pretty guilty of). We Minnesotans get all worked up and then refuse to express it. And because we never publicly react poorly to situations, it comes off as "nice" to everyone else.
Not very healthy sounding, is it? However, that repressive art form is one of the main reasons you are enjoying a Column right now. If I complained about all the things that bothered me directly to the people responsible for the bothering, then you wouldn't have anything to read about! And then where would we be? In a very, very sad place, I know.
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I sit with my back to the window in my office (yes, yes, I am a lucky girl with an office and a window) and I just turned around. The sunny 26-degree day has suddenly turned into a near white-out blizzard, complete with unfortunate students from across the road leaning at 45 degree angles to keep from being toppled by the howling wind. I'm not sure if snow is actually coming down or if it is just being blown around. Gives me chills just to look at it.
Turn up the space heater. Ahhh. All better. And now the sun is coming out again. Tsk. That Mother Nature sure has a sense of humor for us here up north. You southerners and your "consistent" weather patterns. You have not experienced real weather until you wear shorts and your winter coat on the same day (and not because you are trying to make a fashion statement. Good Midwesterners don't make fashion statements).
I'm not a native Minnesotan. There are times when I don't even like to admit that I've become a Minnesotan. All that "hot dish" instead of "casserole" nonsense. But I think it's past denying at this point. I've lived here for 18 years. I say "pop" instead of "soda." I go to "the laaayke" (you know THE lake in Minnesota) to ride in the "beau-at" (boat, for you non-Minnesotans out there). I wear a winter coat under or over my Halloween costume every year. And I know the answer when posed with the following tricky question:
"What's a muskie?"
It is a very large fish with big teeth that apparently no one knows exists except Minnesotans, several Wisconsinites and a few other people living in midwestern states. Google came up with a bunch of fishing sites (which I didn't care enough to post here) but dictionary.com and encyclopedia.com both failed to tell me what exactly a muskie (or musky) is. They did tell me, however, that Edward Sixtus Muskie was a Democratic U.S. senator from Maine from 1958 to 1980 and served as U.S. secretary of state from 1980-1981.
Now aren't we all feeling a little smarter for knowing that?
I also know that there is no such thing as Minnesota nice. Oh sure, you may think so the first time you visit here. But really, Minnesotans are just highly accomplished at repression. I don't know if it has something to do with Scandinavian heritage, the abundance of Lutherans or the freezing cold weather (quick message to people on the East coast: Buck up! I do not pity you one little bit.), but everyone here is really, really good at putting on a happy face even when they are seething inside.
A quick example from my buddy Megs... (that's always the best way to start a story: dot dot dot ...)
"Was walking through the lunchroom with a large styrofoam cup I grabbed from near the pop machines, as I've done countless times before--we get free milk, so I was gonna use this big one to get some milk for my cereal instead of using the tiny dixie cup glasses they provide.
As I was walking past the cashiers, I was stopped and told I would have to pay 10 cents for the cup. Mind you, I wasn't purchasing anything; I was merely grabbing a cup and walking to the milk machines outside the cafeteria. Unbelieving, I said, 'Well, I guess I don't want the cup, because I didn't bring any money.'
So the lady took the cup back! The cup that I had been holding and fiddling with. I'm sure she was going to put it back in the stack. If I was someone else, I don't think I'd want to grab the cup that had already been man-handled.
Seriously, I've taken the cups from there for 2 years...what the hell? I've decided that those with very little authority (like cashiers) tend to lord what miniscule amount they have over others. It's these times that I wish I had no morals or boundaries and could go completely apeshit and scream, 'Are you [expletive] insane?! It's a [expletive] styrofoam cup, for [expletive] sake. Get a [expletive] life, [expletive]!!!!' ah, if only...."
Thus ends Megs' sad, sad tale. See, she couldn't even tell off an old lady (who was probably wearing a hair net) who was clearly in the wrong. Megs probably smiled sickly back at the lunch lady, got her two dixie cups and walked back to her cubicle to email me about how upset she was. Which is fine. Better to blow off steam one way or another than to let it sit and boil (which, unfortunately, I am pretty guilty of). We Minnesotans get all worked up and then refuse to express it. And because we never publicly react poorly to situations, it comes off as "nice" to everyone else.
Not very healthy sounding, is it? However, that repressive art form is one of the main reasons you are enjoying a Column right now. If I complained about all the things that bothered me directly to the people responsible for the bothering, then you wouldn't have anything to read about! And then where would we be? In a very, very sad place, I know.
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posted by Sun at 11:43 AM
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