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People are now trying to be less vague about my mythical accent. I mean, I tell them that it is a Geordie accent and in an effort to disprove this they try to pin it down to specific parts of The Country That I Am Not From.

For example, my consultant asked where the accent was from and eyed me skeptically when I told him that it was from Newcastle and I said, "No, it's not Irish. It's not just you. I get that a lot." He looked totally mystified and said, as though this would prove him right and me wrong, "It's Ulster."

Guys, a geography lesson.

If I have already said that I am not Irish (and indeed, have specified that I am Geordie), the chances of me admitting that I am from Ulster are very very slim indeed.

Comments

( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
alto2
Mar. 11th, 2011 06:19 pm (UTC)

I've lived in Ulster, and would like to say just for the record that, while it's been a while since I've actually heard you speak, I have never once thought, "OMG, she has an Ulster accent!"

Whatever...

sefkhet
Mar. 12th, 2011 11:59 pm (UTC)
it's been a while since I've actually heard you speak

If I recall correctly, Election Night 2008. Screaming at each other across a mobile phone, a speakerphone, a Skype connection, and an ocean. At five o'clock in the morning. On the street so that I wouldn't wake my flatmate up.

*grins*

Yeah, my accent hasn't changed much either since then or since New York. It certainly hasn't become Ulster.
alto2
Mar. 13th, 2011 03:13 am (UTC)
Screaming at each other across a mobile phone, a speakerphone, a Skype connection, and an ocean. At five o'clock in the morning. On the street so that I wouldn't wake my flatmate up.

Yes, indeed, and it was the coolest damn election night EVER. :)
ladysarahii
Mar. 13th, 2011 02:26 am (UTC)
Yeah, from the only time I've heard your voice, it didn't sound overly Ulster-ish to me, either.
( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With sadness there is something to rub against,
a wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to pick up, something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs or change.

But happiness floats.
It doesn't need you to hold it down.
It doesn't need anything.
Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing, and disappears when it wants to.
You are happy either way.
Even the fact that you once lived in a peaceful tree house and now live over a quarry of noise and dust cannot make you unhappy.
Everything has a life of its own.,
it too could wake up filled with possibilities of coffee cake and ripe peaches,
and love even the floor which needs to be swept,
the soiled linens and scratched records.

Since there is no place large enough to contain so much happiness,
you shrug, you raise your hands, and it flows out of you into everything you touch. You are not responsible.

You take no credit, as the night sky takes no credit for the moon, but continues to hold it, and share it, and in that way, be known.

- Naomi Shihab Nye

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