I think pretty much everyone I know likes accents. Which leads me to believe that, probably, almost everyone in the world likes accents. Where it differs is what kind of accents are your favorite. I personally like everything from the British isles, although I decided recently that Irish tops the list. Other people I know prefer Spanish, Italian, French, or German. (Hmm, Europe seems to be over-represented here.)
Now, what I was thinking about the other day was, is American anyone's favorite accent? Being an American who lives in America, I'm not all that impressed by it. It's just normal, you know? Standard, non-exotic. But I don't think I've ever heard of it being swooned over. In fact, the descriptions I've heard of it (harsh, nasal) aren't exactly flattering. Which is a bummer.
So, is there something about the Romance languages that makes them inherently more attractive? Is it a cultural thing, that one group of people tend to prefer the way another group speaks? Or is it all a matter of individual opinion and there's someone for everybody?
I do realize that my viewpoints on this could be skewed since my reference points and cultural ideas are influenced by the media and stereotypes of my country, (Warning: I am about to make a flawed mental leap full of logical fallacies. But this is a blog and I'm just pondering, so I don't care). Maybe Americans prefer accents from English-speaking countries or Europe because we feel like we're the most similar culturally, but it's different enough to be exciting.
Something to think about anyway.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Mostly about manners, but a bit rambling
I'm aware this is only semi-coherent but I kind of can't be bothered. There's a point in there somewhere.
So I realized the other day that I do something that may or may not be weird. I was checking out at a store and my total was $1.79 but all I had with me was a $20 bill, so as I handed it to the cashier I said "Sorry." And this is not a singular occurrence. If I don't have money in a close enough denomination I feel like I've inconvenienced them in some way and need to apologize.
Now, I used to be really bad about saying "sorry" for every little thing. One time, someone almost dropped a speaker on me and as I jumped out of the way, I apologized. I think part of the problem is the English language just puts double duty on "sorry." I mean Spanish has "lo siento" (sorry - I feel your pain) and "perdon" (sorry - I apologize, it was my fault). Because that's one of my pet peeves. You express a tale of woe to me, I commiserate and say "I'm sorry" and you come back with "Why? It's not your fault." Well, thank you for exonerating me, but I wasn't actually taking the blame. I was being polite.
Sometimes I think I can be a bit elitist and politeness. I am by no means a paramount of etiquette. I don't routinely bring a host gift or anything like that, but I am kind of a stickler for politeness. I always say "please" and "thank you" to waiters at restaurants, I smile and say hello to people I walk past if they make eye contact, I walk people to the door when they leave my house. Simple things. Which is why I can get a bit judgmental when people don't do those things.*
To be fair, I also judge myself. If I don't do one of those things, I scold myself mentally because I definitely know better. And if lots of other people don't do something I think is common-sense politeness I'll take a poll of my family and friends to see if it's just me over-reacting. I do think a lot of it comes down to upbringing. My mom is very into the whole Southern Belle kind of ideal and one summer she had my siblings and I learn one rule of etiquette every day out of this huge Emily Post** book. (One of the stereotypes of the South is that everyone is super polite.) The last time I flew out of LAX they had to re-scan and search my carry-on*** which took about 10 minutes and afterward the TSA guy asked me if I was from the South. I can only assume this was because I was polite and laid-back since I don't have an accent (unless I'm sleepy or sometimes angry).
I feel it's only fair to add the caveat I was only so laid-back because I was 4 hours early for my flight (but that's a story for another day). I'm ordinarily a bundle of nerves until I actually get to my gate because I have an almost pathological fear of being late.
*The saying hi when eye contact is made is more of a personal thing that stems from the fact that I used to be cripplingly shy. Greeting every stranger you pass is a great method of forcing yourself out of your shell in a fairly low risk way.
**It's to manners what Barlett's is to quotations or Webster's is to dictionaries.
***Apparently, a lot of books looks really suspicious on the x-ray. Random.
So I realized the other day that I do something that may or may not be weird. I was checking out at a store and my total was $1.79 but all I had with me was a $20 bill, so as I handed it to the cashier I said "Sorry." And this is not a singular occurrence. If I don't have money in a close enough denomination I feel like I've inconvenienced them in some way and need to apologize.
Now, I used to be really bad about saying "sorry" for every little thing. One time, someone almost dropped a speaker on me and as I jumped out of the way, I apologized. I think part of the problem is the English language just puts double duty on "sorry." I mean Spanish has "lo siento" (sorry - I feel your pain) and "perdon" (sorry - I apologize, it was my fault). Because that's one of my pet peeves. You express a tale of woe to me, I commiserate and say "I'm sorry" and you come back with "Why? It's not your fault." Well, thank you for exonerating me, but I wasn't actually taking the blame. I was being polite.
Sometimes I think I can be a bit elitist and politeness. I am by no means a paramount of etiquette. I don't routinely bring a host gift or anything like that, but I am kind of a stickler for politeness. I always say "please" and "thank you" to waiters at restaurants, I smile and say hello to people I walk past if they make eye contact, I walk people to the door when they leave my house. Simple things. Which is why I can get a bit judgmental when people don't do those things.*
To be fair, I also judge myself. If I don't do one of those things, I scold myself mentally because I definitely know better. And if lots of other people don't do something I think is common-sense politeness I'll take a poll of my family and friends to see if it's just me over-reacting. I do think a lot of it comes down to upbringing. My mom is very into the whole Southern Belle kind of ideal and one summer she had my siblings and I learn one rule of etiquette every day out of this huge Emily Post** book. (One of the stereotypes of the South is that everyone is super polite.) The last time I flew out of LAX they had to re-scan and search my carry-on*** which took about 10 minutes and afterward the TSA guy asked me if I was from the South. I can only assume this was because I was polite and laid-back since I don't have an accent (unless I'm sleepy or sometimes angry).
I feel it's only fair to add the caveat I was only so laid-back because I was 4 hours early for my flight (but that's a story for another day). I'm ordinarily a bundle of nerves until I actually get to my gate because I have an almost pathological fear of being late.
*The saying hi when eye contact is made is more of a personal thing that stems from the fact that I used to be cripplingly shy. Greeting every stranger you pass is a great method of forcing yourself out of your shell in a fairly low risk way.
**It's to manners what Barlett's is to quotations or Webster's is to dictionaries.
***Apparently, a lot of books looks really suspicious on the x-ray. Random.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Wallow with me, won't you?
Sometimes life is just less than stellar. Is it worse when something happens that was beyond your control or when you've inadvertently caused it yourself? It's a hard choice for me since I'm a bit of a control freak but I'm also excellent at heaping guilt upon myself.
It just occurred to me that it's very odd that for all I don't like to not be in control of things, I find it strangely comforting when books about time travel don't allow events to be changed (a self-correcting history, if you will). There's probably some revealing pyschoanalytical explanation for that but heck if I know what it is. Sidebar: Freud is weird.
Anyway, when I get down (about a big thing, not just them being out of ice cream at McDonald's*), I tend to wallow a bit before pulling myself back together. I retreat into solitude like a woodland creature that knows it's dying (yay for melodrama!) and don't talk to anyone and replay events over and over in my head until everything is way more intense and dire than it was originally. This, you might think, it so not a good plan. I concur. You might then ask yourself why I do it.
I don't know. But it is invariably my default. I keep meaning to change those settings . . .
Basically, there is a Rational Me (RM) and an Irrational Me (IM). RM is very logical and when things happen understands the reasons behind it and makes practical decisions based on the information at hand. IM mostly stands around moaning "But why?" ad naseum. Needless to say, they don't really get along. And RM apparently doesn't eat her Wheaties because when it comes down to it, IM usually wins. It's pretty exhausting being irrational though, so RM will occasionally break free and berate IM for exacerbating the situation and shake her head in shame. All of which makes me feel thoroughly schizophrenic, but I like to play it off by blaming astrology: "I'm a Gemini! I'm supposed to have dual personalities!"
Sigh. I am such a trial to me.**
*Wtf is up with this? The McDonald's by my college campus was ALWAYS running out of ice cream. The only thing I want from you people is an Oreo McFlurry! I have no reason to come here if there is no ice cream!
**Just so you don't think I'm totally loony, I do always at some point bring a real live whole other person into the discussions and then like magic I always feel a lot better. You'd think I'd just do this right off the bat but, nope, I never do. It's a bit of a mystery.
It just occurred to me that it's very odd that for all I don't like to not be in control of things, I find it strangely comforting when books about time travel don't allow events to be changed (a self-correcting history, if you will). There's probably some revealing pyschoanalytical explanation for that but heck if I know what it is. Sidebar: Freud is weird.
Anyway, when I get down (about a big thing, not just them being out of ice cream at McDonald's*), I tend to wallow a bit before pulling myself back together. I retreat into solitude like a woodland creature that knows it's dying (yay for melodrama!) and don't talk to anyone and replay events over and over in my head until everything is way more intense and dire than it was originally. This, you might think, it so not a good plan. I concur. You might then ask yourself why I do it.
I don't know. But it is invariably my default. I keep meaning to change those settings . . .
Basically, there is a Rational Me (RM) and an Irrational Me (IM). RM is very logical and when things happen understands the reasons behind it and makes practical decisions based on the information at hand. IM mostly stands around moaning "But why?" ad naseum. Needless to say, they don't really get along. And RM apparently doesn't eat her Wheaties because when it comes down to it, IM usually wins. It's pretty exhausting being irrational though, so RM will occasionally break free and berate IM for exacerbating the situation and shake her head in shame. All of which makes me feel thoroughly schizophrenic, but I like to play it off by blaming astrology: "I'm a Gemini! I'm supposed to have dual personalities!"
Sigh. I am such a trial to me.**
*Wtf is up with this? The McDonald's by my college campus was ALWAYS running out of ice cream. The only thing I want from you people is an Oreo McFlurry! I have no reason to come here if there is no ice cream!
**Just so you don't think I'm totally loony, I do always at some point bring a real live whole other person into the discussions and then like magic I always feel a lot better. You'd think I'd just do this right off the bat but, nope, I never do. It's a bit of a mystery.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Ah, summer . . .
Sometimes I confuse even myself. Take this for example: It's July now and the highs have been hovering around 90 for the past couple of weeks. Now on the one hand I love hot weather. However, I don't think I really realized that that love was contingent on being able to get away from it whenever I want. My apartment does have air conditioning but it's not central air, it's just a wall unit so it really only cools the bedroom. Also, running the air conditioning is expensive and I could probably give Scrooge a run for his money frugality wise.
The upshot is, it took me a few days of sweltering through the afternoons in my apartment to even remember that I had air conditioning. That's definitely the kind of thing that can make you feel dumb. I've still only used it once though so far (I was already showered and ready to go somewhere and didn't think a miasma of sweat stench would add to my look). Mostly I just eat popsicles and refrigerated watermelon like it's my job. (What if it WAS? Best job ever.)
As miserable as it can be, I kind of like it because sweating makes me feel like I'm getting stuff done even if all I'm actually doing is trolling YouTube. A lot of times, even if I go for a run outside I don't feel like I sweat that much because it evaporates right away since the air is so dry. Back in Kentucky the summer is muggy enough to leave you in a permanently drenched state (less than optimal). So I have this correlation in my head of sweating equals a good work out. I was fascinated the first time I realized that even though I wasn't sweaty after a hike, I was covered in salt dust from where it all evaporated. So. Cool.
I am so easily entertained.
The upshot is, it took me a few days of sweltering through the afternoons in my apartment to even remember that I had air conditioning. That's definitely the kind of thing that can make you feel dumb. I've still only used it once though so far (I was already showered and ready to go somewhere and didn't think a miasma of sweat stench would add to my look). Mostly I just eat popsicles and refrigerated watermelon like it's my job. (What if it WAS? Best job ever.)
As miserable as it can be, I kind of like it because sweating makes me feel like I'm getting stuff done even if all I'm actually doing is trolling YouTube. A lot of times, even if I go for a run outside I don't feel like I sweat that much because it evaporates right away since the air is so dry. Back in Kentucky the summer is muggy enough to leave you in a permanently drenched state (less than optimal). So I have this correlation in my head of sweating equals a good work out. I was fascinated the first time I realized that even though I wasn't sweaty after a hike, I was covered in salt dust from where it all evaporated. So. Cool.
I am so easily entertained.
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