Me talk pretty one day

Today in lecture we had to read aloud to the class. I felt like I was back in second grade as we went around the room in order of our seating arrangement. I sat there nearly trembling and dreading the moment I would have to project my horrendous American accent to the class. The moment came and I began to read the text. I heard whispers as soon as I commenced and all I could think was, 'Wow, I sound a bit like my mother,' and 'They're probably making comments about my accent-great.' I had read quite a chunk of the literature aloud when the professor asked me to read more. I didn't stutter nor did I have any awkward pauses: it was as if I was a professional public speaker. I felt pretty good about it until once I had finished one of the students ran out of the room. Maybe her ears were bleeding from my atrocious American accent? They didn't appear to be, but when she returned she looked quite white as if she had thrown up. I mean, it could be worse. Like take the South, for example. At least people can understand me-I think.