theladyrose: (Default)
Apparently I still have that freakishly pretentious transatlantic accent that I'm convinced that I don't have. My Columbia interviewer asked if I grew up in Britain when I was scheduling my appointment. That was just mildly awkward...

It looks like I've got to work on how to sound like an American. Which, really, means sounding like someone bleached all of your words.
theladyrose: (Default)
I have a social life! Well, sort of, so don't get too excited yet. The only downside to my crazy hedonistic lifestyle is that I'm having difficulty getting my work done. Oh yeah, classes; when are those again?

I went to a dance/mixer for the first time since 8th grade, a good four and a half years or so. I finally know what freaking/grinding looks like, and I was totally disgusted. Danielle, Adrienne, and I convinced ourselves to stop being so quiet and actually go out to meet other Harvard Summer School (HSS) students. I don't mind if other people do it, but sorry, that's just not the sort of activity that I would feel comfortable doing. I danced with a guy for the first time, a really nice Latino guy named Mike from Kirkland who unfortunately is a bit of a braggart about his SAT scores and extracurricular activities. Either way he's not particularly good or bad-looking but he seemed nice enough. He twirled me around a bit after staring at me for some time. I think my friend, Charmin, took pity on me and asked him to ask me to dance because she's nice tha way. And then I sort of danced with the bespeckled guy who wears a bow tie all the time from my behaviorism seminar because partly I felt sorry for him and partly because he's dorky in a cute sort of way. We kept randomly waving at each other across the dance floor.

My various dorm mates and friends (Danielle, Adrienne, Liat, Emily, Sandra, Maya, Christina, and Charmin) seemed to be very surprised that I was dancing like crazy for pretty much four hours straight; after all, it's the only exercise I've really gotten all week. Well, except for Thursday when I ran all the way to my behaviorism seminar from my dorm because I woke up ten minutes before class. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed looking like a wriggling fool with my friends. Sophia, silly girl, stayed in her room to study physics and theoretically go to bed early. I saw her briefly for the first time in two, maybe three days just before we left for the dance.

Adrienne, Danielle, and I walked over to the bubble tea place afterwards, but the shop ran out of boba (the tapioca pearl balls as they're called in Boston) so they were closed. We ended up walking to the nearby 7-11 to get some Ben & Jerry's Phish Food ice cream. Unfortunately we were nearly verbally attacked by a really scary Christian fundamentalist on the way back. We ate melting ice cream (well, Danielle had a huge bowl of Cheerios and milk) and played a little Uno. Danielle and I were sober yet acted drunk, possibly because it was late, we had just gone to a dane for the first time since middle school, and we were on a sugar high. We kept laughing at each other whenever the tilted table surface shifted or when the people in the dorm, Strauss, across from us yelled at each other crazily. When the two of us (Danielle and I) returned to our room, we were literally sprawled on the floor laughing when everything tumbled out of our refridgerator (Danielle rented a combo fridge/freezer/microwave, a.k.a. microfridge, yay!) and when I had to toss the rest of Danielle's Cheerios and milk down the sink. Then, of course, I had to get the soggy Cheerios out of the damned sink and into the trash receptacle while one of my dorm mates stared at me as if I were drunk. I'm entering the sober hangover period now and merely feel very tired with sore feet.

Sorry [livejournal.com profile] shakeitdown, but I have yet to see an attractive teenage Asian male, and there were lots of Asian guys who kept grinding with only Asian girls. Ugh, that's just not my thing. There were some pretty hot Latino guys (that should make you happy, [livejournal.com profile] latina_business and [livejournal.com profile] thehashmark) and some really cute geeks with glasses. I should've asked to dance with them but I was too shy. The really nice and fairly hot Latino guy, Shane, who I keep meeting on the first floor of my dorm, has my cell phone number now, but he also took everyone else's cell phone number. He's always really friendly to me, but he is with everyone. I met him two days ago when he invited me to go to the all-male 5th floor's study break/party, but I waited for Danielle, and the party pretty much broke up by the time we got back up there. I heard a rumor that he's gay, probably because he dresses so well and didn't grind with girls (although he tangoed with Charmin for a bit; did I mention he's a great dancer as well?); I really hope that's not the case as Charmin and I are supposed to go shopping at H&M with him on Monday. Perhaps I'll get a chance to really talk to him next week.

Don't worry, [livejournal.com profile] horosha, none of the guys were as pretty as you :D

I'd like to blame Danielle for my increasing obsession with pool; instead of getting more reading done this afternoon after lunch we went down to Loker Commons underneath the Annenberg Hall cafeteria to where the pool tables are. The only open table was dominated by this group of either Thai or Cambodian pool sharks whom I would dearly love to either slap or whack over the head with a pool stick. They kept making some really sexist comments in Thai whenever Danielle and I would lean over to play; they never bothered to ask us how the two of us wanted to set up the teams, and there was this one jerk who literally pointed at me and said "I claim her!" as if I were in a harem or something. Thankfully we met a really nice Latino Harvard student named Solomon who joined Danielle and me and really taught us how to play without being the least bit condescending. He helped chase away the Cambodian/Thai dudes by helping Danielle and me whoop the chauvinist pigs' asses; we could only dislodge the pool sharks by beating them thoroughly. Danielle and I really have to meet up with him again so he can help us improve our game. In the process I also met two Chinese guys who were watching us who spoke terrible French. I find it hilarious that all of the American students I've met seem to think that I've got a decent accent.

I really need to stop procrastinating so much. Danielle, Mekkhi, and I went out to Faneuil Hall again yesterday and went shopping at the Quincy Market. I picked up a really cute cartoon card of my cousin Jason and his soon-to-be wife as they're getting married next Friday. I can't wait to see all of my relatives at the wedding on Long Island! I've still 2 chapters of my behaviorism textbook, 2 chapters in 2 different books on reserve at Lamont Library, and the beginning of B.F. Skinner's Walden Two to read by Wednesday that I meant to finish doing yesterday and this afternoon. Yeah, that sure happened. Did I mention that I met B.F. Skinner's daughter, Julie Vargas, last Wednesday? I nearly toppled out of my chair in awe, and that's just the first class!

And on a random note, half the guys I meet claim that I have a slight British accent. This is the first time when a fair number of people I meet for the first time have told me so. What the heck?

One of these days I'll figure out how to save a scanned image on the Science Lab computers so I can post up the caricature drawing of Mekkie, Danielle, and me. It's tremendously cute although for some reason my hair is parted on the wrong side and I mysteriously wear a Harvard sweatshirt that I don't have. I love it anyway.
theladyrose: (Default)
"I hope you woke up this morning not regretting anything...heck, I hope you woke up without a hangover at the least!"

As much as I appreciate my friends' birthday wishes, why is it that people like to imagine what I'm like drunk? Or assume that I would get drunk in the first place, or perform other sketchy activities? I simply don't understand it. I have nothing against a little political subversion, although it's never anything destructive or harmful, and I don't consider myself asexual, but that's a different story.

People have been commenting lately that I have a British accent and/or British mannerisms, although Ellie repeatedly denies this. I don't get that either to be honest; I personally think that I sound rather American, and I've lived in this country for quite some time now. Occasionally I do sense a couple of vaguely trans-Atlantic phrases slipping into my speech; as I've said before, when I was younger my mother was beginning to lose her BBC announcer accent as I started to speak English. Kids used to give me strange looks in early elementary school whenever I spoke so I consciously tried to eradicate my accent and sound more American like everyone else. Perhaps in recent years I've been reversing this trend as many of the people with whom I keep in contact on a regular basis live across the pond. Perhaps it's my closet snobbish anglophilism coming out? I generally avoid using British spellings, though.

I am now the proud gardien of a garden gnome whom I have dubbed Jean. Jean Gnome, get it? It makes more sense when you say it out loud. For the record, the nickname was Ellie's idea. I am going to take a picture of him some time and you can all rejoice in his kitschiness.

I can't wait for my latest shimpment of soundtracks to come in; there's Michael Giacchino's Alias seasons one and two, Bernard Herrmann's North by Northwest (the recording not conducted by Laurie Johnson, composer of Dr. Strangelove and the Avengers series) and Marnie, and another one whose name I've temporarily forgotten. I'm starting to binge on Vertigo (Bernard Herrmann), Goodbye, Lenin! (Yann Tiersen), and the Incredibles (Michael Giacchino); I think I've been listening them too long in a row. I'm starting to lose my touch as I branch away from the jazzy swing experimentalism of 60's caper and spy films in identifying clips; it took me about twelve seconds to identify a five second clip from Burt Bacharach's Casino Royale (the 1967 version, not the 1954 American TV movie). If I've seen a film within a six month period and have heard the soundtrack twice, I need a three second clip to identify the composer, film, and track name in five seconds. It's a strange little gift of mine that comes in handy to quash sexist film score reviewers' doubts about me; it also makes me sound like I actually know what I'm talking about!
theladyrose: (Default)
I PASSED MY DRIVER'S TEST! And my math test, too.

With the maximum fifteen points off. Actually, it was sixteen, but I had a most merciful and kind driving instructor who passed me anyway. I made lots of little mistakes, some of them debatable, but I'm just grateful to have passed. Thankfully they didn't take my photo (they'll probably use the one on their database on my permit), because I didn't feel like being photographed in my school sweatshirt or in my PJ top that I forgot to change out of this morning.

Rebecca says that I don't really have an accent, though sometimes I tend to emphasize odd words ('tis possible, I guess...I haven't really noticed that). Jen claims that I have a fairly noticeable accent that sounds somewhat British, and that she noticed it from the beginning. Kerstin says that I have an interesting way of speaking (I do? Really?) but the accent isn't very placable. Apparently I enunciate my words quite clearly unlike most Californians. That just puzzles me because I happen to think that I mumble and slur my words. The polling continues.
theladyrose: (Default)
I'm confused now.

Do I actually talk with an accent???

For some reason random people have been telling me that I have a slight trace of an accent vaguely resembling a British one. And half the people I ask claim that I do, and the other half scoffs at the ignorant first half. I can sort of figure out where the origins of such an accent would come from, but I've been trying hard ever since I was little to sound normal and more American. I tend to revert to old patterns of speaking when I'm tired, probably because subconsciously I'm returning to what I'm most familiar with (hence, I can speak Cantonese better when I'm almost completely asleep then when I'm wide awake. 'Tis odd, I know). But since when did I have an obvious accent?

I'm functioning decently well considering that I didn't get so much sleep last night. I have plenty of time to finish my paper if I just stop procrastinating long enough...

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June 2010

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