Nepenthe

I'm from NC. My mom is from IL. Neither one of us can pronounce the word "horror." She pronounces it precisely like "whore" and I can't get over it. I, myself, dislike "harrr" movies.

Added bonus: I am a grown-ass adult and the only way I don't stumble introducing myself is if I do it like everyone else did growing up: by pronouncing the L in my name like a Y. I cannot pronounce my own fucking name and it's not even a disability. Usually, I just hope no one notices.

One of the more entertaining parts of learning another language is the extra attention to sound has made me super aware, more and more, of what speaking quirks I still have that weren't smoothed out by the midwestern influence which is considered to be the "general" American accent.

The lingering Chicago dictates random K's must immediately be followed by a Y (Shikyaaga!), but the southern part of me demands that any L at the end of a word is a W now and we're dropping consonants like we drop relatives when they come out as humanitarian. I'm horrified, I feel so bad for any foreigner who has to talk to me.

Had to look up a Louisiana accent just to see, and it sounds a bit different in some unnameable way but still definitely just South. Aside from being able to pick out she must be from some nebulous southern state that wasn't NC, I think we could have gotten along fine.

Which I guess just means you and I wouldn't be able to communicate in person if I played up my childhood accent even a little. Which is fair. The day I introduced my first bf to my dad, I still vividly remember having to stand in as translator between them and I still don't understand how that happened. He was only one state up, and from a more rural area.

They rarely eat pumpkin, calling it “squash”, and renaming squash to something else (summer squash or something?)

Admittedly, I and probably 70% of other Americans were formerly unaware that pumpkins are a variety of squash, making this paragraph surprisingly difficult for me to even parse. So that was an interesting and kind of fun experience.

If it helps, I have come to realize after thinking about it that I see any roundish variety, regardless of smoothness or color, as a pumpkin, regardless of its actual name. If it's gourd-shaped (butternut/zucchini), it's a squash.

The flavor is seasonal and therefore novel, you're right about that. But tbf, indian food uses squash in general, which seems to extend to white/orange pumpkins, and we definitely have Indian-Americans. Ditto Hispanic. It is eaten more often than the two holidays, just not by white people.

For the useless naming difference, as always, any beef with America can more factually be blamed on the Europeans. Specifically, the French.

I remember the opposite: heads always felt like "right way up" to us, but the result was almost always tails no matter who flipped it. To the extent that it still feels like the heads/tails percentage is the only positive version of the 50-50-90 rule, and I will never choose anything else.

Probably confirmation bias. But I wonder if the people in my family are wobblier than others.

But the boxes were taken to the dumpster, yes? With time saved, even? Someone in a managerial position would rather hire, train, and pay a devoted garbage person instead of three adorably unpaid raccoons?

Wait, hold on, has anyone thought to scan the nazca lines

“I get good chat going, the AI is set up properly, very good start, like 10 messages in or so but then suddenly the AI decides I should cum and end it all,” another user said. “The thing is that the sex part haven't even started yet.”

Well, if it isn't my own intrusive thoughts

Every letter in the English language is silent

Ok, this one is really cute. I would never have thought of this in a million years

Depends on the life, I would think.

I was actually gonna say my peak was 23 because 1.5 months later, I'd just gotten my first place with my then-fiance. But that was also after nearly a decade of being completely homeless, so yeah, that can tip the scales a bit. It was a first place, not a nice place, and we didn't always have food and running water. It was more me just not caring much about those things.

And then I remembered how freeing it was to leave after he metamorphosed into a drunk little cheating piece of shit. Very exciting. Had a solid support system for the first time ever. Aceing college despite never having been to high school. Happy cried a few times.

So I'm gonna call it at 28 and it's all downhill from here, but OP needs to remember Life sometimes happens and it isn't a cookie cutter TV sitcom.

I can be well into my 30s with no driver's license because I missed the whole "Loving parents teach me to drive to high school" situation. I was eating out of a garbage can out back behind the Food Lion and sleeping in a park when that was supposed to happen. But I could also just go get one.

French: barbe Ă papa (daddy's beard)

A russiaboo, unsure of the legal implications of stepping into someone else's country? More likely than you think.