I'm a Stranger Here Myself

It has got to be said, and today is as good as day as any.
There is a woman here who hates me, and she hates me (not "because I'm beautiful"--does that commercial still run?) solely because of my place of birth.

About a month after moving here to Norfolk, this woman came to my house, sat on my sofa and trashed my President (currently my husband's head honcho if you think about it), the school system from which my children came, my language etc. She did it all with a smile, so to be quite honest, it was two hours AFTER she left when I realized that I was agitated and couldn't put my finger on why. Then I realized I had been insulted. A lot.
Ok, so I am not the sharpest tool in the shed these days, and maybe that's good. I have this ability to accept just about every person from every walk of life and if you're nice to me, I will be your most loyal friend. If for some reason, I don't like you, I won't pretend I do and call you over for tea. You have to work really hard to offend me (mostly because I can be a little distracted and may miss subtle hints completely) and I kind of expect that in other people.

But never mind that. The damage she caused was that I believed what she said. She really was one of my very first visitors and had plainly told me that general British sentiment towards Americans is that we're greatly disliked.
So, I stood in the queues at play group and didn't speak to people for months (I didn't want to appear the pushy American). I walked on eggshells trying to make sure I never said something that would cause offense, and I did my best to just blend in.

So, with that stated.
After several months I figured out that this woman was really the exception. Most people are very warm towards us and on things we probably wouldn't agree about, they use that wonderful British humour.
My children attract kids who want to know more about the US and who like their accents. One friend loves to sit in my living room and listen to the Hubby and I talk because she loves the phrases we use.
In the meantime, I have heard about others' run-ins with the visiting meanie and pretty much decided her dislike for me is definitely not my problem. I have attended "crops" at her home (invited) and smiled through all of the little jabs-- I get a page or two done in my scrap books without Miss Ky pulling the table over, I don't care what the hostess feels about me.

The most recent said event was yesterday. Imagine my consternation when everyone I asked told me they weren't going. My heart sank when I pulled up and saw that I would be the only one there and it was an 8-hour crop!
Sometime around October-ish (during the wanderings of my husband) I went to something she hosted and came out determined never to attend another thing. I was beaten, I was tired and a little pissy to be perfectly honest. It was hard doing everything with my husband deployed and setting myself up for the constant verbal attacks was plain stupid. But, here I was. alone.

THAT my friends, is a die-hard scrap booker...

Yes, mingled in with the "I'm really pleased you came"s were, "We don't really get involved with football" (after her 12-year old commented on my husband and boys all attending a match while I cropped with, "Well, maybe your daughter won't like football so that you can have one intelligent person in your home" (did I mention the kid was playing video games almost the entire time I was there?).

But what I really wanted to share was today.

We really had a nice church service. We had lots of visitors and had a terrific feeling with us, ready to face the week with cheerfulness and optimism. As my husband was making his way towards the door, after several attempts to herd our bunch the same direction, I started walking behind him with my head down. I wasn't doing the submissive wife thing (wow, SO not me), I think I was watching my feet or looking at my bag, I don't know. But he stopped short, right after pushing the door open, and I almost slammed right into him.
That's when I looked up and realized it wasn't my husband (thank goodness I didn't pinch his rear). It was the husband of the visiting meanie--who also hates Americans.
I laughed and said, "Oh! I thought you were my husband!" To which he replied, "NOT a CHANCE!" and walked away.
Two points here.
These people consider themselves very educated.
They also consider themselves Christians.
ok, maybe there's actually three points.
Why did I let it agitate me the entire day? Any comments?