<p>I was an expat for a while too. You know you're an ExPat when....</p>
<p>Lacking relish, you dice up cornichons to throw into a tuna salad
You can make eggnog from scratch
You have been chest-xrayed along with a room full of naked north african women at the ministry of health
You have written a check at Burger King
You have learned that a woman 20 lbs over weight looks better "strutting it" than "hiding it."
You've showered to go out for dinner at 11:00 pm
You can get from anyplace to anyplace in your city without consulting a bus or subway map.
You have a monthly pass for public transportation.
You've forgotten simple words in English and found yourself awkwardly translating backwards from foriegn idioms.
You have paid more than $10 for a gin & tonic
You know the foriegn terms for the following: plumber, locksmith, lice, gynecologist
You have been topless on a public beach
Your weekend getaway involves a passport
You have discovered at least 3 over-the-counter pharmacy items that for the rest of your life will be medicine chest essentials but are unavailable in the US
You have been to a public swimming pool (and if male now own a speedo.)
You buy your stamps at a tobacco shop
You cringe at the behavior of fellow americans in public places
You have acquired a taste for techno pop and 50's style dancing
You "get" the political satire in the paper and on t.v.
You prefer shopping at 6 different places for one meal's provisions
Sometimes you go to the english language bookstore just to hear everyone speaking your mother tongue</p>
<p>Reading all these lists it is clear what kids miss if they don't go to a school with a moderate degree of regional diversity, don't you think-- although some states are like countries unto themselves.</p>
<p>I truly hope that my sons have an American college experience as rich as that portrayed on this thread.</p>
<p>And, SBmom...you'll be happy to know that techno pop still reigns...</p>
<p>Just got back from the Midwest after visiting Purdue and Notre Dame. S wants to go out of state and experience different weather, too. He loved both schools and the trees were especially colorful at Purdue. We even attended the Purdue/Indiana U football game. My friend is sending her son to Cornell because of the Southern stereotyping; I guess some things never change. I attended college in Missouri 30 years ago and still remember the kids there from the East had the attitude that a southern education was inferior.</p>
<p>Hey,
I would like to give a shout out and a big thanks to all of the southerners who still hold on to the tradition of sunday dinner and pass the tradition on to their kids. I was pleasantly suprised when D told me that one of her friends from the south came to school with a full compliment of pots and pans and invites them over for sunday dinner which she cooks each and every sunday. It made me remember my childhoold and sunday dinners not just cooking dinner on sunday.</p>
<p>Southern hospitality is still alive and well.</p>
<p>Sgiovinc1.....what about those hot dogs at Walter's? Is that place still there? My husband's from Larchmont and took me there right after he introduced me to his mother.....not sure which intro he was more excited about!</p>
<p>This thread is hilarious! Reading some reasons for picking colleges, however, seemed pretty absurd. I live in Northern New Jersey and am originally from Queens (both parents from Brooklyn.) When I started looking at colleges they said, "within a 4 hour drive." I am applying to schools in Pennsylvania, Upstate NY, Ohio, Minnesota, Southern California, and Oregon. I definitely want to explore other parts of the US. Otherwise how will I know where I want to make my living when I get older? </p>
<p>By the way, it is totally scary how many of the New York lists I identify with - even though I'm from Jersey we can still hop a path into the city as often as we want. LOL.</p>
<p>Whoa, Sybbie, that's ambitious, if DD goes to D'mouth, don't expect so much, she topped out with apple peeling. Now my Mama trained me better than I've trained her, I remember producing, meat loaf, chicken 'n dressing and cheesecake out of my tiny apartment kitchen. I don't think she'll need the pots and pans!</p>
<p>Hpe that you and your's had a wonderful thanksgiving.</p>
<p>Don't worry, my mama definitely trained me better than I trained her because my daughter can't cook (ramen noodles don't count). She is definitely a resturant / menu girl. I was suprised to hear about the pie baking that went on when your daughter came up.</p>
<p>Anyone else notice how you could divide this up between city and country? I grew up in a small town in lower Delaware (which is in itself funny since you can travel top to bottom in three hours but there's a big difference in upstate and downstate) that had many more chickens then people. In fact, we raised two chickens as pets that fell off chicken trucks and that wasn't unusual! I could relate to most of the country/small town lists much more then the city ones.</p>
<p>BTW, there is more to New Jersey then upstate. My parents and relatives live in the truck farm area in Southern Jersey and going to a city for them would mean Philadelphia or Wilmington, not NYC. They married in their hometown in South Jersey, moved across the river to Delaware, raised us, then retired back to their hometown.</p>
<p>Yes, Walter's is STILL there for hot dogs and was featured as one of the top ten HOT DOGS in NYC, second to Nathan's Coney Island. Thanks for asking, dke!</p>
<p>All right. Here are a few that I thought of. Probably others can add to this list.</p>
<p>You know you're really still a New Yorker even though you live in the San Francisco area when:</p>
<p>You can anticipate every move a local cabbie makes when you're driving.
You lock every door in your car whenever you get out of it (especially when it looks like no-one is around).
You keep an umbrella in the car even though its July.
People keep asking you to slow down when you talk.
You keep searching for a genuine New York cheesecake among all the attempted imitations.
You know it's fruitless to keep searching for a good bagel or good pastrami.
You learn to make do with the local bagels and pastrami because there's no choice.
You still say "the San Francsico? Giants".
The screech of an overhead BART train going around a curve is like music to your ears.
Downtown seems so OPEN!
You hold yourself back from saying in a crowded place "Come on, people, MOVE IT!!"
You still can enjoy the views.
You still think that most apartments look like badly buit motels.
You still think of freeways as highways.
You have no idea why people want to travel hours to some remote spot in the desert to see a burning man, but you know that you aren't foolish enough to be one of them.</p>
<p>Dadofsam, Thanks a BUNCH for mentioning pastrami again!!! Now I am going crazy here in San Diego once more thinking about having a decent pastrami on REAL rye. Not that crappy imitation Rye they have in Vons and Ralphs. Sigh. Now I will have to make another pastrami run to the only decent deli in San Diego and it's all YOUR fault!</p>
<p>In NYC two years ago. Couldn't find a deli or bakery and I had help from bro who is a LT NewYorker. Only found the quickee buffets with only a short deli counter. No pickles, kraut, bagels, hoagie rolls, subway graffitti.</p>
<p>Times Square cleaned up. Now like local Mall. Ohh Welll.</p>
<p>Hey, I've got to add my $.02:
You know you're from New Orleans when...</p>
<p>You think sunglasses are supposed to fog up when you step outside.
You don't think it inappropriate to refer to a large adult male as "Li'l Bubba."
No matter where else you go in the world, you are always disappointed in the food.
Your loved one dies and you book a jazz band before you call the coroner.
Your accent sounds nothing like Harry Connick Jr's.
You can sing these jingles by heart: "Rosenberg's, Rosenberg's, 1825 Tulane" "At the beach, at the beach, the Pontchartrain Beach..."
You were a high school graduate before you realized that Catholic and Public were not two major religions.
Your baby's first words are "long beads."
You ask, "How they running?" and "Are dey fat?" but you're inquiring about seafood quality and not the Cresent City Classic.
When a hurricane is imminent, you have a lot more faith in Nash Roberts than Super Doppler 6000.
Nothing shocks you. Period. Ever - not politics, hurricanes, redlights, parking tickets, the Saints, Mardi Gras...
Your one-martini lunch becomes a five bloody-Mary afternoon...and you keep your job.
Being in a jam at Tulane and Broad isn't the same as being stuck in traffic.
You're walking in the French Quarter with a plastic cup of beer--When it starts to rain, you cover your beer instead of your head.
Your idea of health food is a baked potato instead of fries with your seafood platter.
You have to take your coffee and favorite coffeemaker with you on a three-day trip.
You exhibit the "doubloon reflex" by stomping runaway coins with your foot.
You have sno-ball stains on your shoes.
You call tomato sauce "red gravy".
Your middle name is your mother's maiden name or your father's mother's maiden name or your mother's mother's maiden name or your grandmother's mother's maiden name or your grandfather's mother's maiden name.
You know you recycled too much newspaper when there isn't enough for the crawfish table.
You are going through customs and the agent asks you where you're from and you answer, "Gentilly."
On certain spring days, Crawfish Monica is your breakfast.
You eat sno-balls instead of throwing them.
Your house payment is less than your utility bill.
You push little old ladies out of the way to catch Mardi Gras throws.
You write "crookedpolitician" as all one word.
You know it's "ask" but you purposely say "ax".
You understand it when someone describes their favorite color as K&B purple.
You know how to mispronounce street names correctly. (Melpomene, Terpsichore, Chartres, etc.)
You know that Tchoupitoulas is a street and not a disease.
Beignets are the major cause of your gallstones.
You wear sweaters in October because it ought to be cold.
Someone asks you "Where you at?" and you tell them how you are.
You are left behind at an out-of-town bar searching for a "go cup".
You think of potholes as naturally occurring speed bumps.
Your grandparents are called "Maw Maw" and "Paw Paw".
Your Santa Claus rides an alligator.
Your favorite saint is a football player.
You suck heads, sing the blues and you actually know where you got them shoes.
You shake out your shoes before putting them on.
You're afraid to move away because you won't be able to make groceries.
You cringe every time you hear an actor with a Southern or Cajun accent in a "New Orleans-based" movie or TV show.
You have to reset your clocks after every thunderstorm.
You waste more time navigating back streets than you would if you just sat in traffic.
You still call the Fairmont Hotel, the Roosevelt.
You consider garbage cans a legal step to protecting your parking space on a public street.
You fall asleep to the soothing sounds of four box fans.
You ignore ****roaches because you know the only ones you could kill are the weak or infirmed, and it would only serve to strengthen the breed.</p>
<p>BOTH of my kid's have my maiden (current) name as their middle name. So does one of my nieces (since my sister's maiden (current) name is the same as mine). I thought that was a Scots thing? (You know you're Scots by descent when you say Scots, not Scotch, AND you whistle to call your children because "shouting is vulgar." And you have a <em>different</em> whistle for the dog, "so no one will get confused"!)</p>