So, J-Fo has an interesting point re: Canadians. I can't think of any bad ones. Then again, I haven't been there since I was 7, and further, I have no Canadian friends. But all my favorite funniest people seem to come from there, so they must be doing something right.

But what? I was thinking about it on the drive in to work. And guess what? Just thinking about Canadians made my commute go faster! It's true. Anyway, I think it has something to do with the lengthy cold weather. Consider the people of Montana, Minnesota, etc. While there might be stereotypes involving intelligence and/or personal hygiene regarding natives of the far northern states, no one ever accuses them of being rude or mean. And how about Iceland? Slight bizarreness aside, don't you get the feeling that Bjork and the boys from Sigur Ros would happily pick up the dinner tab if you were out together? They just seem kind of nice.

Speaking as someone who lives where it recently hit the 25-below-zero mark (OK, yes, with windchill. Still!), I can say with perfect certainty that cold takes all the fight right outcha. It really does. And there are two ways to deal with living in a bitter, frozen wasteland. You can choose to hibernate, frantically scrambling to get home every night before the sun sets with all the urgency of a Sunnydale resident in a slayerless world (yeah, I watch Buffy. Jealous?) and holding your breath until you're curled up on the couch under a blanket with a cup of cocoa and a whole night of new TV.

Or, you can embrace the cold. You can go buy yourself a hella big puffy down jacket, some Thinsulate gloves, and brightly colored wool hat with a fun pom-pom on the top, and you can act like the flesh-numbing cold does not affect you. You can laugh in the pinched face of old man winter by continuing to jog outside and shop at the outdoor mall as if nothing is different. As if your nose hairs aren't freezing together. As if you don't want to pray out loud for Jesus to come back right this second and deliver you from the bone-piercing, brain-deadening cold that is making it difficult for you to walk the 50 yards from your car to the movie theatre. As if---OK, I don't actually know what it's like to be this type of person.

Because I am the original Hibernator, people. I have to force myself to go out at night in the winter. When I'm making plans, I consider factors like how long I will have to be outside and how much time I will have to spend waiting for my car to warm up and whether there's a chance that my fingers could flash-freeze together since I lost my good gloves and only have a pair of those little stretchy ones that are completely worthless below 30 degrees. I weigh these things against how much fun I will have once I reach my destination. Because you know what? The cold makes me tired. The cold takes away my will to live. The cold and I are mortal enemies.

But I digress, having pretty much just negated my entire "Canadians are nice because they're cold a lot" theory, because I live in a frigid climate too, and I'm grouchy and not particularly friendly to strangers. So in conclusion, I have absolutely no idea why Canadians are so nice.

M-Kay