Monday, September 23, 2013

Fun Living in the Mou’uns

I have always been slightly (ok, really) obsessed with accents. I don’t really know why I have this obsession. Accents are just so awesome. If I’m ever on campus and someone near me has an accent, I go into creepy mode and find some excuse to keep by them so I can continue hearing their accent. I’ve always wished I had an accent. Probably because that would mean I’ve actually been out of the United States and could be from somewhere exotic.

Now, don’t get me wrongI love the United States. It’s a great place to live and there are really great people here. I guess we probably have accents here to the ears of outsiders, but it’s hard for me to pick that up sometimes (unless it’s the obvious Southern drawl) or appreciate because I’ve grown up hearing  American accents all my life, so now they just don’t sound as good as some of the other accents in the world.

However, there is one part of my speech (accent, if you will. I don’t think I have one, but I guess I kind of do) that I really like, and that is the Utah t drop. I don’t know if it has an official name, but oh well. Basically, this is when Utahns drop the t in words. The linguistic name for this is called a glottal stop which, according to the Internet,  is produced by obstructing airflow in the vocal tract or, more precisely, the glottis. Words like mountain, button, and Layton might sound a little different to people who are not from Utah. Other people across the country do this as well, but Utah gets a lot of attention for it.

Here at BYU, I’ve heard people talk about this part of the Utah accent and I’ve had classes where we’ve talked about it. When my sister was here, she convinced a bunch of non-Utahns that Utah children are taught the silent t rule: if a t comes between a consonant and a vowel, it is silent. People actually believed her! I guess having just a Utah accent can be fun too. Click here to read more about the funny way Utahns talk.

Thursday, September 19, 2013

All This for a Slice of Pizza?

Yes, I am an English nerd. It's not my fault that language is so interesting! Semantics, dialects, speech acts, scripts—what's not to love? 

In one of my classes we were talking about conversations. There are certain aspects of conversation that we as Americans do a little bit differently than other countries. It is very general (not every American does this), but it does illustrate how people in normal society are taught to interact.

One part of conversation we talked about was when people ask for something. We do silly things like name objects to show that we want something instead of coming right out and asking for it because we don’t want to be rude. For example, if Bob walks into a room and there’s pizza, his stomach grumbles and he says something like, “Oh, pizza.” He hasn’t asked for anything, but he names it in hopes that someone will offer him some. Once someone does offer him some, he initially declines, hoping that the person will offer again. This goes on for a few exchanges until Bob finally says, “Well, if you insist,” and eats the pizza.

 It is not socially acceptable to outright ask people for something that is theirs unless you have a close relationship with them. Being polite is good, but sometimes I think it is hilarious what lengths people are willing to go to in order to be polite. If Bob would have asked for a slice of pizza, he probably would have gotten one (he was just a poor, starving college student after all). However, everyone around him and whoever’s pizza it was would probably think him a bit strange and maybe even a bit rude even though he didn't mean it that way.

Ah, the conventions of conversation!

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Cold is Cool

Winter is coming, and I'm not sure whether to pack away all my summer clothes with a face to rival Eeyore's or eagerly stock up on hot chocolate and marshmallows. Both summer and winter have their ups and downs.

I love summer because the sun is shining, the birds are singing, and the grass is green and soft between my toes. Unlike winter, summer is when I can be in the sun and (hopefully) get a nice tan. However, I don't like being hot. I hate the feeling of sweat covering every inch of me and the sun shining so brightly that have I squint my eyes so much that I can't even see who I'm talking to or if it's just a pole I think is a person. I don't mind being hot if I'm playing a sport or working out, but otherwise, I would rather not take the heat.

Given the choice, I would choose to be cold over being hot. The solution to being cold is simple: layer up and drink hot chocolate peppered with marshmallows. When it's hot, you can only strip down so far until it's not socially acceptable anymore, and then it's still hot.

Although trudging through campus with the frigid air trying to turn me into a popsicle is no picnic, I would take that over arriving to class, having just freshly showered for the day, covered in sweat.

Sunday, September 1, 2013

School Sentiments

Summer is over, and school looms over the horizon like a black, billowing cloud. OK, so it's not really that bad. Actually, a part of me is glad that school is starting. I miss the days of having a schedule. Well, I had a schedule with work every day, but after work I wasn't motivated to do anything because there wasn't really anything that I absolutely had to do. All the "I'll do that tomorrow"s never got done, and I wasn't as productive as I could have been, something that will change as I am buried with homework and tests over the next few months until the carefree summer sun smiles down on me again. That's where the other part of me comes in. I love being able to do whatever I want whenever I want and not having a schedule. Being spontaneous in the summer is what makes it exciting. School demands a structured schedule and deadlines for projects and such. There's always something to be doing. But even as I cringe at the thought of being cooped up inside willing my brain to work, I remember that I only have two years of college left, and I start feeling (mostly) grateful for the homework.

Sometimes I wish that I could stay in college forever. I love the atmosphere at Brigham Young University and the connection I feel with everyone on campus even though I don't know most of them. We have a lot in common, after all: we attend BYU, have homework, dread finals, will do anything for a free meal, pray for our football team to win, and have the same values. Even though homework is sometimes a drag, I love being a student and learning. I don't want to go into the "real world". I've been in school for as long as I can remember, and not having that structured part of my life is a little scary. I don't know how not to be a student. I try not to think about that yet; I still have a couples years of college left.

For now, I'll cherish my time as a college student, because as much as I complain about homework and trudging to my classes through a snowstorm, I wouldn't trade being a student here for anything.
So bring on the semester!