Lost In Translation

Ok, I finally did it. I bit the bullet, brought myself to do something I should’ve done a long, long time ago.

I watched American Werewolf in London- the movie.

And dear god, is there a lot of naked.

I could see that this wasn’t the cinematic masterpiece I had been fooled into expecting. While it’s a classic (and I’m talking about the one from the 80’s, by the way, that I didn’t know was a remake), I can’t for the life of me figure out why. Ok, I like John Landis. I think he’s a good director. He did Animal House, and while that didn’t exactly seem to require much skill, it has still entered the annals of time as a comedic milestone. And of course, he did two videos with Michael Jackson, one being “Black or White,” with revolutionary face-morphing technology, and the other being “Thriller,” which is just revolutionary, period. By all accounts he seems like a decent guy, even funny.

But this was a terrible movie.

Within the first few minutes I can see why none of the actors ever really did anything else. They suck. I’ve seen better acting in local car commercials. While at first it seemed promising, with a wolf attack out of the gate, I was disappointed that the only character I even really liked died, and only appeared as a decomposing corpse. Then things start getting very, very naked. Like, legit, nudity galore. At least in the new Wolfman movie, Benicio Del Toro shifts with his clothes on (though, after recently seeing that, it’s not really the greatest movie in the world either). And Twilight’s gotta keep it PG-13, so Taylor Lautner’s not doffing it all (not that there wouldn’t be a demand, just saying). But, legit, you see the main character’s you-know-what about every ten minutes. It’s almost like John Landis just sort of gave up on looking for an actually good actor and just settled for someone who doesn’t mind baring it all. Not ok with it.

So while the movie has gone on to become a cult classic, that doesn’t necessarily mean it was good in the first place. I probably should have seen the film before naming my blog after it, but seriously, this is the best name I could think of. Therefore, I’m keeping the name, mostly because it’s embedded in the very URL, but also cause, well, it’s a cool name. Just, hopefully better than its namesake. With definitely less naked.

Anyways, a word about this blog. Because I’m just THAT dedicated, I carry a notebook around with me everywhere. It’s compact and silver, with the Jorvik Viking Center’s logo on it (the only good thing about the conference was the free notebook, sadly, as you can read about in my last post). Most of it is unintelligible, even to me, because my handwriting’s just that bad, but that’s fine cause it’s intended for my eyes only. I take notes on all sorts of things, from quotes some of my friends might say that I may think are really cool, documenting certain moments that I may want to remember, and, like a total 14 year old, possibly just venting.

Mostly, though, it’s for the blog. So, for your reading pleasure (all two of you who may be reading this right now), here’s another list of Things British People Say That Americans Don’t, collected from the past month or so of listening and note-taking.

Things I’ve Had To Learn To Say To Fit In Even Though I Sound Like A Pretentious Douchenozzle (And Some Might Be Repeats Cause I’m Too Lazy To Check)

1. Lift- Elevator. No one says elevator. They’re all lifts. This is really the only instance the American word for an object sounds better than the British word. I find myself mentally saying it all the time, as in when I’m thinking “Oof, the room I have to get to is on the sixth floor? Screw that, I’m taking the lift.
2. Cashpoint- I’m not really sure if this is just one word or two, but I’m condensing it here. In the US we call it an ATM, though in the Milwaukee area (and certain select other areas of the country) we call it a Tyme machine, mostly because A) it’s a cooler name, B) it stands for Take Your Money Everywhere, and C) that’s the original name, so suck it. But anyways, in London it’s cashpoint, and I’ve also gotten into the habit of saying that. Though if you go North, to York and beyond, they call an outdoors ATM a Hole in the Wall. Which led to much confusion on my York trip, since I generally think of a hole in the wall as something you’d want to avoid.
3. xx- This isn’t really something you say out loud, but it’s definitely something you write. Pretty much every text/facebook message from an English person to their friends ends in xx, as in kisses, and sometimes you’ll get an o in there too. I think the only person back home I’ve ever received x’s and o’s from would be my mom, since it’s just not at all common in the US and generally regarded as cheesy. However, in the UK, it’s nearly mandatory to end messages in it, or otherwise you clearly hate that person. I’ve gotten text messages as mundane as “Anne, are you on your way back to unlock the door?” ending in “xx.” I’m trying to get into the habit, cause I think it’s kinda nice, but I feel like an idiot.
4. Trousers- As I’ve said before in another blog post, trousers means pants because pants means underwear. And you really, really don’t want to get those confused. I have said “Argh, I’ve got a stain on my pants” and gotten at best an awkward silence and at worst straight-up guffawing accompanied by absolute disgust for a perceived overshare. However, I meant trousers, just to clear the air there.
5. Uni- I don’t go to “college,” I go to “university,” and for short that means I’m a uni student. It’s so ubiquitous I’ve even used it to describe people back home, like saying that my sister’s in her first year of uni instead of that she’s a college freshman at Sarah Lawrence. I still feel like a douchebag for saying uni though.
6. Quid- it means pounds, as in the currency. Something might be thirty quid. It’s like how we say fifty bucks (which I still say here by mistake) except a quid sounds like something you’d find in Harry Potter.
7. Fiver, tenner, etc- A pound note denomination. We’ll just say a ten dollar bill, but here they say it’s a tenner. Though I have heard some Americans use it in relation to American currency, I haven’t nearly as much as I do here. It’s sort of a dumb thing to notice, but I tend to notice the weird stuff, so there you go.
8. Film- this isn’t a new word to Americans. That would be stupid. But in England you don’t go to the theater to see a movie, you go to the cinema to see a film. I’ve always grown up thinking that only really classy, artistic movies could be considered films- like, Amelie is a film (one I still haven’t finished, cause I’m lame and don’t like subtitles). Britney Spears’ Crossroads, though I’m sure there are some people out there who would vouch for its excellence (and I’m equally sure those are people I don’t really want to hang out with), would never, ever be considered a film in the US. In England, however, it is, as is every movie ranging from Hot Rod to High School Musical. This is partially why English people sound so smart all the time.
9. Slag- Skank, slut, whatever. We all have words for the same thing- a promiscuous woman. I prefer the old-fashioned “hussy” myself, but here the word of choice is slag. The entire word just sounds icky to me, which I guess is the point. It still sounds weird when my roommate asks if her outfit looks “too slaggy” since I still think a part of my brain just refuses to accept it as a real word. Oh, and the outfit in question wasn’t. For the really odd people who want to know.
10. Half Nine- or half eight, half ten, whatever. Half nine is 9:30, in case for whatever reason you thought all the English were super mathletes who just randomly told time by dividing all number by two.
11. Chicken Tikka Marsala- I have no idea if that’s spelled right. England LOVES Indian food. Even York was full of Indian restaurants. I had only had Indian food once before coming out here, and that was at a Desi Chai event and I was too freaked out to really eat much of it. Otherwise, the first proper time I had Indian food was when Kim and Mia visited and we ate it in Piccadilly Circus at about 1 AM. I’m now pretty much in love with chicken curry. Chicken Tikka Marsala actually isn’t technically Indian, but rather created by English people to seem Indian. Granted, most of the Chinese food in the US and other parts of the Western world is unknown in China, but this is sort of weird to me. McDonald’s in the UK sells chicken tikka and now they’re even marketing it to India of all places as an English-y dish. I haven’t had it yet, mainly cause I’m like the fussiest person ever (seriously, I don’t even like cheese, and that’s just one of many, many examples).
12. Wee- as in, to urinate. I know, it’s a little lowbrow, even for this blog. But there’s just something about hearing someone in their twenties say they need to wee, a phrase my little half-siblings don’t even use and they’re toddlers.
13. Shag- since we’re on the topic of lowbrow, anyone who’s seen Austin Powers knows what shag means. And yes, English people do actually use it in all seriousness.
14. Queue- To stand in line, or the line itself. You’re not looking for the end of the line when you’re outside a club, you’re looking for the end of the queue.
15. Lovely- No one in the US says lovely, unless you’re over the age of 80 and referring to flowery doilies or the outfits you knit for your cats. Here, it’s a common adjective, used to describe people mostly. It truly is a great word, and I think under-appreciated in America.

Ok, so those were things I have to say in England so people will understand me, but I still sound like a weirdo whenever I say them. Here’s another, similar list:

Things I Say As An Obnoxious American That My English Friends Can’t Say Without Sounding Like Douchebags (Or At The Very Least They Can’t Say Very Often)

1. Douchebag- While calling someone a douche exists, sort of, it’s not nearly as common as it is in the US and definitely not all the different variations. Douchebag happens to be my favorite insult, but here they prefer worse words.
2. Crapshoot- My roommate and I were out shopping for a coat the other day and she mentioned going to a charity shop to find one. “Well, it’d be cheap, but actually finding a good coat would be such a crapshoot” I replied. She had no idea what I was talking about. I even tried to explain- a crapshoot means it’s sort of a one in a million chance, a small possibility, but either way, I was reminded about how stupid the phrase sounds in the first place. I mean, crapshoot? Even if you assume it’s about shooting the fish, like I do, it still sounds odd, and shooting the other type of crap makes it downright disgusting.
3. Legit- I actually never said legit until I moved out East, when Kim would say it all the time. I haven’t said the word legitimate since. Legit is such a versatile word, and has become my stand-in for “like,” sounding vaguely less Valley Girl. People here, on the other hand, make fun of me for saying it all the time, which is legit not cool.
4. Soda- In England soda is literal, as in the soda water we have back home. If they want a coke, they say they’re getting a coke. If they want a diet coke, they say they’re getting a diet coke. I can’t help but say “Oh hey guys, I’m going to the store to get some soda,” and have everyone look at me funny. Everyone looks at me funny a lot, here, actually. Maybe I should take the hint.
5. Flip Your Shit- Meaning, to Americans, to freak out, no one says that here. The first time I said it my friends were like, “Flip your what? And why?”
6. Strike Out- Maybe because it’s a baseball reference. When I texted a friend of mine that I saw someone strike out at a party, I got a text asking for a translation. I had to explain that it meant that the person in question was rejected. Personally, I love that phrase.

Then there are other things that get lost in translation. I’m getting used to the accent, but sometimes it fails me, and I have to ask people to repeat things all the time. I’m sure it’s supremely annoying, hearing my uncouth “What?” after every other sentence, but I legitimately have trouble understanding sometimes. One example was the other night. A friend turned and asked me what sound like, “Do you have a palmenta at home?”

“Huh?” I replied, “What’s a palmenta?” assuming it’s one of those distinctly British things like Marmite or Eastenders.

“Palenta?”

“Huh? Like the food? Isn’t that a food?” My confusion was growing.

“No, a belenda.”

“Um...” I knew I was being annoying, and I could feel everyone’s frustration growing. I was tempted just to nod my head and pretend that I could understand, but unsure what I would be nodding to. “Brenda? I don’t know any Brendas...”

Finally, my friend just heaved a massive sigh. “Dear god, Anne, a blendah, you know, what you make smoothies with, that sounds like this-” She then accompanied a spinning hand motion with a whirring, growling sound.

“Ohhh, a BLENDER. No, I don’t have one of those.”

“Jesus, Anne.”

This literally happens to me EVERY SINGLE DAY. I would like to take the time to apologize to everyone who I make repeat things all the time, which would likely be every single English person I’ve ever spoken to. Sorry about that.

There are also differences in phrases. In the US, you see someone you know, you ask “Hey, what’s up?” Here, the equivalent is “You alright?” For the first few weeks, I literally thought everyone just assumed I was depressed and about to cry all the time, since the only time you ask someone if they’re alright in the US is if they look like they’ve witnessed the brutal murder of a kitten. I even asked people, “What? Do I not look like I’m alright?” only to have them speak slowly to me like I was an idiot that I looked fine. Of course, sometimes “You alright?” can really actually mean, “Are you OK? Since you look like you just saw The Notebook.” In turn, whenever I see someone I know, I say, “Hey, what’s up?” It wasn’t until yesterday when one of my friends confronted me about it that I realized I was doing the exact same thing to my English friends as they were doing to me- you only ask people “what’s up?” around here if they seem terribly sad. I never thought “What’s up?” could be taken for “Who died?” when asked in random conversation before.

While I’ve been learning the English lingo, I have something embarrassing to admit. Sometimes I can feel my voice overcompensate for the lack of Americanness around me, and sometimes I say regional American things I’ve never, ever said before in my life. Here are some examples:

1. On line. Not in the internet sense, but as a replacement for “in line,” as in “are you on line for the bathroom?” This is a phrase only employed in New York City and the surrounding areas. Sure, at Fordham, I’d HEAR “on line” all the time, but even living there I never actually said it. Now, I’ve found myself actually saying it. Maybe it’s to make up for the queue confusion, but I honestly have no idea how a New York phrase I never actually said in New York has entered my vocabulary in London.
2. Yo. I’ve never said yo. I never thought I would ever actually say yo. I’m not cool enough to say yo ironically, and I’m not cool enough to say yo unironically. I’m not cool enough to say yo period, and I always thought I knew this. However, it’s slipped into my speech here, likely in the absence of yo in England itself.
3. Ya’ll. This is easily the worst and most embarrassing of every random phrase I’ve started saying. Ya’ll in and of itself isn’t embarrassing. In fact, said by the right people, it can be super endearing and adorable. However, I qualify in no way, shape, or form as the right kind of person to say ya’ll. I’m not Southern. I’ve never lived in the South. Besides going to Sanibel Island in Florida all my life, I’ve never really even been to the South, and Southwest Florida barely even counts as Southern, since it’s more like a warm enclave of the Midwest and East Coast, especially Sanibel/Captiva. I’ve never set foot in Texas, Georgia, Kentucky, or Mississippi. There is absolutely NO REASON ON EARTH for me to say ya’ll. So why do I say it? That’s the mystery. I’ve mostly caught myself, but for a couple brief weeks in February, ya’ll was my word of choice. Maybe I’m overcompensating. Maybe I’m just becoming an American stereotype, fulfilling what my English friends think an American should say and be. Either way, a Wisconsinite and New York transplant has absolutely no business whatsoever using phrases claimed by the South. It’s just... weird, and almost disrespectful to the people who really mean it.

That’s pretty much all I have for now. Language is fun for me, and the differences in dialect has always been one of my fave subjects, whether it’s between the East Coast and Midwest, New York and Wisconsin, or England and America. We all speak English, but it’s amazing how much we can’t always understand each other.