It’s stupid really. It’s not even that much of a deal to be called a crisis, but what do I call it? Identity problem? Identity predicament? So here’s the thing: I live in a country that is predominantly influenced by the United States, from the way we dress, to the way we speak, to how much the fastfood industry thrives over here, down to the books and the English we study. American English. And yet, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, I cannot stop myself from spelling in British English.
That’s it actually. Kind of petty isn’t it?
I’m actually convinced I might have been a European of some sort in my past life. Something about doling out my letter u’s so generously just feels so natural to me. I’m pretty sure I can spell in any way that I want, but sometimes I can’t help but worry that people, especially people who know me, might think I’m trying to be pretentious. Which I’m not. I just think that it makes much more sense to spell ‘favourite’, or ‘colour’, or ‘grey’ in this way. I especially like how that ‘e’ looks on that colour.
See I did it again!
I’m not sure if it has something to do with the way I pronounce those words, why I automatically spell them that way. It gets confusing. Sometimes I spell ‘realize’ with a ‘z’, and sometimes I spell it with an ‘s’ depending on my mood. Once, I spelled travelling with two l’s and my English teacher crossed it out of my essay. From that point on I’ve maintained a habit of spelling that word and others like it by simply adding -ing to the end, no longer doubling any other letters.
I’ve got nothing against American English, so don’t get me wrong. I’m just trying to find some sort of explanation for my behaviour. I’m definitely fascinated with all things European, so I don’t know if that’s a possible reason as to why I gravitate more towards things that are theirs. I’m pretty proud of my Chinese heritage and I know that’s what makes up most of who I am, but I really love European culture and history too and I feel like I never get enough of it. So I guess this is my way of experiencing it on a daily basis? Am I weird that way?
Maybe if a whoopie pie had feelings, it would be filled with as much questions as myself. I mean, what are they exactly? Are they cookies? Cakes? Definitely something different from our usual imagery of pies… Maybe it’s more fair to classify them as cakey sandwich cookies? I guess as long as they’re not called Poopie Pies (thanks a lot, Dad! He’s obviously never heard of them until now), we can classify them as anything that floats our fancy at the time.
