P.S.

So I had a sort of date tonight, with an American academic who's lived here for years. I more or less reproduced the post below during the course of dinner, with one added anecdote: while at a reception recently with free hors d'oeuvres and wine (why was I there, you ask? Long story; not interesting) I was talking to a stranger who, when I told her that I was from California, replied, "but you're not from California originally, are you?" To which I responded, with genuine curiosity, "What would make you think that?" She said "I think you have an East Coast accent." Hunh? When retelling this story, the only thing I could come up with is that I was consciously articulating my consonants in a somewhat affected manner, which I do when talking to the British in an academic context, in order to be understood. (If in a noisy restaurant you order "water," pronounced in the American fashion, you will probably be asked to repeat yourself.) So anyway, the guy I was telling this story, who again has been here much, much longer than me, says, matter-of-fact-ly, "Oh when someone says I have an East Coast accent, I usually assume it's thinly-veiled anti-semitism." Well, there it is. (He did, in fact, have a kinda Jew-y voice...)

Okay, there has been far too much complaining in this blog! I resolve that the next, let's say, three posts will have no gripes about the British at all. Tomorrow, I shall complain about the soul-less investment bankers who went to my college! Will the open bar occasion a flash-back to the eventful SF Weekly Music Awards ceremony? What are "heavy hors d'oeuvres"? I'm headed to (alterna-trendy club) Popstarz afterwards. Then the stomach-stapled, pill-poppin' Turandot on Saturday. What I am complaining about!?

[BTW, I keep setting the blog to "allow anonymous comments," and then it un-sets. I think I've fixed it, for now. Comment away!]