To remedy my linguistic differences, I fought to over articulate my words, refrained from emphasizing my "b" when I mentioned my birthplace (everyone knows Bronxites pack a verbal punch with their "b's"), and spoke less frequently in class.
My refrain, "There has to be an organic source to this," fell on deaf ears and glazed eyes as they scribbled out yet another prescription.
"I'm moving home," has been my refrain of late to explain being frantically busy, but now that I've finally moved, my body has given in to dreaded fatigue and flu and I've been buried beneath the duvet, limbs leaden, unmoving (apologies here must go to my new flatmates for not yet lifting a finger to help do the bins).
Staffers were surprised to hear my refrain: "A private internet experience will be impossible until we get rid of the FISA amendments and overhaul the Patriot Act". They thought I would be advocating some specific form of legislation, perhaps tied to terms and conditions.
I made "The arts are for everyone" my refrain at meetings with incoming students and at recruitment events.
"Don't pick up your sister!" This is my refrain.
Let's stop for a bite". "Ew, that doesn't sound good" was my refrain.
My fear is that what I said, my "refrain," will be what sticks in their minds.
But they won't, so I repeat my refrain of asset allocation, diversification, and rebalancing over and over again, through the markets' endless high notes and low notes, to anyone who will listen.
He blinked a set of pretty eyes at my wife, refrained from offering an explanation, but finally came up with: "Because, oh, how do I say this …" He said it.
