Interesting, especially since “your name is spelled funny” is my particular cross to bear. 
It is just a creative spelling of plain old Brenda from two parents who wanted a boy to name Bryan.
Where aren’t I from?
Strangely enough, when I’m in England or in the southern US, I am asked if I am Canadian. My UK S.O. tries to tell people that he is so fluent in American that it is almost is good as his English. His English isn’t very good; he really speaks Bristle (Bristolian) and a couple of Indian friends speak English better than he does.
Why not respond to their queries like an old fashioned New Yorker. Get up in their faces and ask, “What’s it to you?”
Child-like voice:
My mommy’s tummy…
or
“Alice’s Restaurant” (let 'em wonder)
Me? I’m in Osaka. I’m not around kids much but it seems to happen to me less and less these days. To be honest, a little part of me is saddened that the kids feel less inclined (or allowed) to yell out a greeting to me as they walk down the street. 
Kids: Harooo! How are you?
Me: Hellooo! I’m suuuuuUUUUUuBARASHIII!! 
Yeah, I know how that goes. I don’t even have an accent; I was born in the US and spent most of my childhood here, but because I look Asian on the outside, a lot of people (depending on which part of the country I’m in), automatically think I’m “from China”. If they ask “where are you from”, I’d usually answer Africa. That really messes with them - cue scene to Mean Girls: “If you’re from Africa, why are you [del]white[/del] yellow?” Sometimes, I even get asked, “What are you?” :dubious:
Urkel! Did I do that?!
Most people in the High Navarra would call it cebolla, but the euskaldunes would call it tipula, unless you’re asking about the Catalans, who would call it ceba. Oh, and the people from the Low Navarra may call it tipula or oignon. Now where is the halo smiley when you need it…
Ugh, I hate this, as an American abroad.
I usually just respond with the name of the suburb I live in here, in Australia. Sometimes the asker just looks confused after that, but they generally drop the subject. Sometimes they guess anyway, though.
Surprisingly, they often guess that I’m Irish. Er…no?
You look Irish.
My Dad always told me:
“Son. Never ask a man where he’s from. If he’s from Texas, he’ll tell you. If he ain’t, well, no need to embarrass him.”
.
I think next time someone asks me this in a rude way, I’ll just bite 'em. That’ll learn 'em.
That’s hilarious. In more than one way.
Just be grateful I don’t have any Gallego ancestors I know of, descamisado
Creative answers for a question of “Where are you from”? = “Help me be a smartass because I can’t stand it when people ask me this question.”
What? People from the US can’t have an accent? Switch a couple of people from NYC with anyone from any other part of the USA and you’ll see that’s absurd.
I don’t see where giving a smartass answer is going to help anything at all. Generally people are just being friendly when they ask where you’re from. If you give a snarky… I mean ‘Creative’ answer to the question you’re likely to go through a much more frustrating conversation than if you just answered the question. You know there are techniques for keeping conversation to a minimum with people. One suggestion is the acknowledgment hum. i.e.
Waitress: “You talk funny, where are you from?”
You: I’m from Manfredjinsinjin (*quick! Where is that name from?)
Waitress: “oh really? I’ve never even been out of the city”
You: “hmmmm. Are you ready to take my order?”
As far as the frustration that (I think) someone mentioned above about it leading to more conversation that you don’t want because they have never heard of such a place. I’d say you’re being too specific. “Where you from?” “South America”
And last but not least… “I get that alot. I’m from here.”
Possibly, and I am of Irish descent. But my voice is pure Mississippi!
Boy, can I relate. It has become tiresome. In addition to being browner than average, or fairer, depending on your perspective, I also have weird hair, and a goatee, although I keep it nicely trimmed.
When certain people look at me I can almost hear the cogs shifting in their brains: “He’s definitely not white, but he’s not black, Hispanic? No, no, something…Middle Eastern?” which had, for a time, become a bit more of a nuisance for me. I travel a lot for work, sometimes up to three times a month. In fact, I’m typing this from my hotel room at the Westin in oh, so lovely Detroit.
Anyway, back between 2002 and 2007 I realized I was being pulled out of the security line at the airport much more often than others in my travel party. What began as a series of light-hearted jabs by my colleagues: “What’d you smuggle this time, Ono?”, or “Channeling Osama again Ono?”, shortly evolved into “Ono, you go ahead of us. We’ll catch up.”
During one trip, I was pulled aside and wanded after I’d gotten to the gate, which I have never seen happen to anyone. It was embarrassing, and quite upsetting to see passengers backing away from me, and changing their seats in the waiting area. Even after I was cleared, no one wanted to stand near me. It infuriated me, and I couldn’t do a damned thing about it.
It’s gotten better for me at airports; now I’m inconvenienced to the same ridiculous degree everyone else is.
I’ve been dealing with the where are you from/what are you questions for as long as I can remember, not taking into account the relatively recent suppositions of a Middle Eastern heritage that doesn’t exist, so after 40 or so years, my responses, when I choose to provide them, do come off as snarky.
I think it is also as you alluded in another post. If there was some genuine interest or as part of a related discussion, I don’t know if I would mind the questions so much. Usually, however, it comes off more like, you’re different, I can’t pigeonhole you, and that bothers me.
“I could tell you, but then the marshalls would have to relocate me again”
Well, THANK you for popping in and protecting us…
Well I never been to [del]heaven[/del] Spain,
but I been to Oklahoma.
Well they tell me I was born there,
but I really don’t remember…
In Oklahoma, not Arizona…
What does it matter?
What does it matter…
CMC fnord!