Words, words, words

I had a weird turning point in my life abroad today. I was packing up my backpack to go to the supermarket when I noticed a little tag near the bottom, on the part that keeps the waist buckle out of the way. This label informed me that the little part was called a "Buckle Garage."

That's not the weird part. The weird part is that, in my head as I read the tag, I said "Buckle GAR-age" as opposed to "Buckle Guh-RAHGE," in a complete rejection of the 22 years of my life that I have been speaking American English.

So far, in my time here, I haven't quite gotten over how different pronunciation is. Sure, there are words like "queue" (line) or "tin" (can) that I have started using. I will always, and without thinking, use the term "half" after an hour to tell time, such as "half six" rather than "six-thirty." I have also enthusiastically embraced the phrase "taking the piss," which does not involve a bodily function, but rather means making fun of something, usually good-naturedly. But pronouncing certain words "tom-AH-to" or "ore-GAH-no" has been out of the question thus far.

One thing I have half-heartedly gotten on board with is this nonsense of calling everything that's sweet or dessert-like, "pudding." It's in Ireland that I first learned what was meant by "plum pudding," by the way -- it's this little round sort of fruitcake thing with plums in it that you're supposed to cover in brandy sauce and set alight, apparently. Usually it comes out around October, wrapped up in red cellophane right next to the Cadbury Milk Trays, just in case you're getting your Christmas food shopping done early. I'm not positive what they call American-style pudding, then, unless they do as they do for pancakes or brownies and simply put "American-style" in front of the name and leave it at that.

Because I talk more with the Amy, queen of Scots, than I do many of the Irish people in my class, I've found myself picking up strange Scottish phrases that will be completely incomprehensible to people back home. Words like "jammy" (an adjective meaning "lucky when you don't deserve to be") and phrases like "get yourself to fuck" (pretty self-explanatory) just pop out when I least expect it.

One such word is the word "bombscare," which will not only be incomprehensible, but completely inappropriate back in the States. It means, roughly, a disaster, but usually that a person is a complete disaster, i.e., "I drank so much last night, I was a total bombscare," or "Look at her hair, she's a bit of a bombscare, eh?" It can also be used as a transitive or intransitive verb, as in, "Ugh, I was totally bombscaring last night" or, "We're totally going to bombscare C next week" (C being the roommate who regularly leaves the country without letting us know, and who we would love to see drunk some night).

Apart from the buckle receptacle anomaly and the vocabulary additions, though, I despair of ever losing or even softening my Buffalo-Canuck-Cali accent. Though I have gotten to the point where I feel like no one picks me out as American based on looks alone (after all, most of my clothes were bought here), the second I say "Hi," they know I'm a Yank.

My new goal, admittedly small, is to be able to order coffee entirely in an Irish accent - "Hi, small latte for takeaway, please? Thanks a million." I know it's going to take some practice and dedication, but that's a sacrifice I am totally willing to make...no matter how many times I have to go to that amazing coffee shop down the street in order to get it right. How does one say "croissant" in Irish?