Utah accent

Last night after talking to my family (mostly my mother) on the phone for two hours, I decided to sit down and write a blog post. Only the power went out; and with it, the internet did too.

I wrote some of my day down on a Word Document on my laptop. Here is what I wrote:

Today I attended the Schizophrenia Symposium all day – from 9:00 a.m. until 4:30 p.m. It was quite fascinating, but it definitely was a lot to take in all at once. Now I feel like I need to research on my own much of what they were talking about.

Curtis came “home” with me today. While we were in the last lecture of the symposium, we heard the Blue Angels over us and it made Curtis want to go to Fells Point. Unfortunately, we did not see any airplanes.

 We did see some ships, and some sailors in uniform. Here is the huge Canadian ship that I mentioned in my last post.

 Also, there were some kayak-ers out and about.

We ended up buying dinner at a place called Little Italy Pizza, which was funny to me since we were in Fells Point and they were advertising food that is sought after a neighborhood away. I have not been to Little Italy yet, but I am planning on going, someday.

Well, we each got one slice of pepperoni pizza. I paid $2.65 for a quarter of a pizza! The ONE piece was HUGE! I even took a picture of it (I remembered my camera, AND I remembered to take pictures). Although, I did not think the pizza looked very appetizing, in the way of foods,but it turned out to be delicious! Apparently that is how all east coast pizza tastes like. I enjoyed it.

 I walked Curtis to the bus stop, and a couple approached us asking about the fee to park. I did not know the answer, but Curtis walked over to the parking vendor thing with the wife to help them sort it out. I mentioned that I had only been in Baltimore for two weeks, and the husband said they had just arrived from North Carolina, and he asked me where my accent was from.

No one has ever asked ME about MY ACCENT! I told him I was from Utah just as we walked up to Curtis and his wife. As we got there, she asked Curtis where his accent was from. He told her to guess, and she was all over the place, “Well, maybe British, or Australian, or . . .” until her husband said, “No, I bet he is a Mormon from Salt Lake City.”

Yep, actually, you are right on.

She looked a bit shocked that he knew that, but then realized that he must have already asked me. 

They were a friendly couple, we visited with them for a few minutes, the Circulator came and Curtis had to run across the street to catch it. I continued talking to them a few minutes more.

They had just barely arrived from North Carolina for the weekend with the purpose of getting their son settled into an apartment because he was just starting an internship. The husband told me that he went to school and got a degree in electrical engineering, ended up becoming a dance instructor, and now was a hair stylist.

I told him I was going to school to be a biological engineer, and that I loved dancing, but mostly only ballroom.

He complemented me on my hair and said it was a great style for me. And then he gave me his business card and told me that if I was ever in North Carolina and needed my hair done, to let him know.

Random. I met some guy that said he would do my hair if I was in North Carolina. Now that does not happen every day.