It was the first and last time I ever saw her. I'm still crossing my fingers that I'll never run into her again. She was an idiot. Seriously. She looked nice though - very pretty. I know this for a fact because some guy walked up to her and gave her this corny pick-up line. You know, the one about rearranging the alphabet to put u' and 'i' together? Though maybe he was on a dare or something. I don't know. Anyway, her response? "I thought they were already next to each other." She meant every word. She was totally clueless. I was a bit weirded out but didn't really care. I didn't know her. I didn't want to know her. Problem solved - except not. I was waiting for my best friend to arrive, and as if she had been waiting for this cue, she did arrive. She didn't see me at first, but she did see the clueless girl, walked towards her, hugged her (they knew each other!?) and when catching sight of my, made her way over, girl in tow.
"Hey, remember when I said I was going to bring a friend?" my friend asked. No, actually, my mouth began to form. "Yeah, so, this is her. Bridget, meet Maya. Maya, Bridget." Thanks for letting me answer oh dearest friend. With introductions over with, we headed for food, settling on a pizza place. Simple but a good choice. Or maybe it would've been had Bridget NOT taken twenty minutes to decide no, she didn't want pepperoni, she wanted mushroom and the pink Vitamin Water. Really? How long does it take to decide that? Then she took it a step further and the cash register (I swear, the cashier looked ready to kill himself - I couldn't blame him): "How much do two quarters and a dime worth again?" Oh, please spare me. Whatever. By the time she bought her slice, I was on line for a second one. Oh give me a break, I didn't have breakfast. No break was given. he new girl somehow thought that we had been bonded to sisterhood at our introduction and let all her thoughts fly out of her mouth the second she thought them. Unfortunately, each was insulting and/or dull-witted. She talked about how all the guys like her, they were all staring at her (yeah, because you're an idiot, I felt like shouting), how greasy the pizza was, and why did they put so much grease on the pizza? Then she went on to saying how I was lucky that I didn't care what other people think about me, so on and so forth. Argh! Would someone shut this girl up? Lovely lovely Diane, my knight(ess?) in shining armor, my best friend in the universe (even though she had been the one to introduce us in the first place) took control of the conversation, talking about more educated things, touching on politics and reasoning behind certain actions in not-so-political settings. Bridget had no words to say, looking incredibly dumbfounded (a Kodak moment for sure). Thank God for small miracles, huh? I don't know if I described it, but her voice, ugh. It was like...melted sugar over needles - way too sweet with a way of attacking the mind causing instant headaches, and don't let me get started on her laugh. Although I'd like (not) to give more examples of her stupidity, I think I've (blessedly) unconsciously blocked those memories since they were so traumatizing. I don't know how Diane ever became friend with her, but last I heard, she moved to California. Watch out Hollywood. No, seriously. Pick up and run away. Now.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Super Best Friends, Ashley Alongi
It had started with child abuse. Or perhaps it was a symbolic sign telling me he was ready to leave the nest. Maybe. But for the sake of the story we’ll call it child abuse. Behind the Plexiglas window of the cage there she was, unmistakably the mother of all the little ones running around. In other words….fat. And there he was, much smaller , brown with big black eyes, inching over towards her. And like any loving mother would, she pushed him over with her head and let him fall over failing his tiny arms and legs about. That’s when I knew he was the hamster for me.
Thinking back on it now, following him with my finger probably wasn’t the most effective way of keeping track of him, but whatever way I did he was the one who wandered into the tiny cardboard box. This unnamed creature was enjoying all the comforts of gong to a new home. A brand new cage and food in the backseat. My mom had even put on the cars AC, which was a rarity. And yet he felt the need to squeak the whole way home. And that when the name Squeaky was born.
He spoiled me. After he was gone I couldn’t understand why the other would do certin things, like fall asleep in my pocket. Thinking back again, he probably was a narcoleptic. Every small thing he did excited my 9 year old self. The first time he walked from hand to hand, the way he put food in his cheeks to the dance he did when he peed. Everyday I would take him out for hours, most of the time forgetting he was there, catching him just in time before he would run under my bed , never to be seen again. He probably would have been fine though seeing as how he and the cat had come to a mutual agreement that if they didn’t bother one another they would be cool.
The day he died I can remember perfectly. He had a bloody nose that morning, but that wasn’t odd because he has been getting them more and more lately. I remember leaving him sitting on my mother, calling to him as I went down the stairs to school that I would see him later. I remember that day at school, someone had sunflower seeds at lunch and I had brought some home for him. But when I reached home I found my mother standing in the driveway to tell me that after three years and four months of companionship, that Squeaky was dead. Not believing I rushed upstairs to see him with a tissue draped over him like rodent CSI had shown up. One of his eyes was open and his body was rigid. This was not the Squeaky I knew. I refused to pick him up having m mother burying him in the front lawn while I watched from the window. But as she brought the empty cage upstairs I took on of the sunflower seeds from my hand and buried it next to his grave, Not only because he was my first pet, but because however lame it was, he was my first best friend.
Thinking back on it now, following him with my finger probably wasn’t the most effective way of keeping track of him, but whatever way I did he was the one who wandered into the tiny cardboard box. This unnamed creature was enjoying all the comforts of gong to a new home. A brand new cage and food in the backseat. My mom had even put on the cars AC, which was a rarity. And yet he felt the need to squeak the whole way home. And that when the name Squeaky was born.
He spoiled me. After he was gone I couldn’t understand why the other would do certin things, like fall asleep in my pocket. Thinking back again, he probably was a narcoleptic. Every small thing he did excited my 9 year old self. The first time he walked from hand to hand, the way he put food in his cheeks to the dance he did when he peed. Everyday I would take him out for hours, most of the time forgetting he was there, catching him just in time before he would run under my bed , never to be seen again. He probably would have been fine though seeing as how he and the cat had come to a mutual agreement that if they didn’t bother one another they would be cool.
The day he died I can remember perfectly. He had a bloody nose that morning, but that wasn’t odd because he has been getting them more and more lately. I remember leaving him sitting on my mother, calling to him as I went down the stairs to school that I would see him later. I remember that day at school, someone had sunflower seeds at lunch and I had brought some home for him. But when I reached home I found my mother standing in the driveway to tell me that after three years and four months of companionship, that Squeaky was dead. Not believing I rushed upstairs to see him with a tissue draped over him like rodent CSI had shown up. One of his eyes was open and his body was rigid. This was not the Squeaky I knew. I refused to pick him up having m mother burying him in the front lawn while I watched from the window. But as she brought the empty cage upstairs I took on of the sunflower seeds from my hand and buried it next to his grave, Not only because he was my first pet, but because however lame it was, he was my first best friend.
Friday, April 25, 2008
My Dictionary, John Zurz
For my seventeenth birthday a friend of mine gave me a most unusual gift: a subscription to a series of a word a day e-mails. It almost made me feel like those people who buy those calendars that give them a new word each day to help them expand their vocabularies. I say almost because those people tend to use their new words incorrectly and or at the wrong times. And so for the last year I have been getting these e-mails with different words in them.
For the longest time I had used a dictionary my mother bought me when I was in grade school, it is one of those dictionaries with the words most people use, one without fluff words. By fluff words I mean words that aren’t in a person’s essential vocabulary. After all who would call a kindergartener learning his ABC’s an abcidian? Odds are they wouldn’t understand and neither would most people. It evokes an image of a class of geniuses who are trying to find the meaning of life, not your average kindergarten class. In the dictionary my mother bought me I went and looked up words that I needed to know for vocabulary tests and such. When middle school came I began looking at certain four letter words that one begins to hear on TV and such. While we all now know what “hump” means there was a time in each of our lives when we merely thought that it was a small hill, bump, or that thing on the back of the old man drinking beer outside of the corner store.
It may sound odd to be talking this way so soon, but remember I am a teenager and as most people that looked through dictionaries was because it could be reasoned that they might have pictures or descriptions of said four letter words. As it goes the “S” section of my dictionary was the first to become worn. The others were soon to follow. You can always tell what kind of dictionary you have by the definitions of the words in it: the more primp; conservative dictionaries will give the bare minimum when it comes to defining certain words. The other kind would give slightly more detailed definitions, while they do not come close to the Urban Dictionary, they are quite telling. It’s funny how the way the dirty words are defined will tell you what kind of product you are looking at.
For the longest time words have been giving negative connotations when they do not deserve them. Since when did liberal become a four letter word? Or even conservative for that matter? ‘Son’ now can be used to refer to a friend or acquaintance, and has been for a few years. Pop culture has influenced our vocabulary more than we think. A character of the popular show The Simpsons, Homer’s catch phrase has been added into the dictionary. Now and forever “Do’h” has been immortalized as a word to be used when someone screws up or hurts themselves. The primp dictionaries won’t have it, but if you want to know what “Hunky Dory” means odds are it will be in there.
The same friend that gave me the present of the e-mails that bring me new and pretty words to use has a vocabulary to match. All of the words she uses are nice and pretty, she may curse every now and again but she sounds much more natural when speaking with her flowery vocabulary. I suppose that is the kind of vocabulary one gains when they like to write poetry. As for myself I am constantly using words I never even knew I knew how to use when I am writing. It may seem odd but none of them are large words, they all seem to be quite short, quaint even. I am no poet nor do I pretend to be, I have no pretty words to use. While they some may be quaint, they all sound rough, even when I use the nicer sounding words they always seem to come out jagged.
For some reason when I write anything I tend to ignore the word “stuff”. When teachers would go over our work they would say don’t use “stuff” or “things”. In writing these two words have become as bad as curses, they are not to be used, while when speaking no one ever says “don’t say stuff”. There seems to be a disconnect, both are ways of communicating, of expressing an idea so what goes for one should go for the other. Shouldn’t it?
I suppose the word a day e-mails may be considered the most useful present I have received in my long eighteen years of life. I especially enjoyed the week where they used words that sounded dirty but actually weren’t. Though they may not have been useful, (When would be the right time to ask someone if they were masticating?) it was certainly entertaining. I may not be in bated breath, but I certainly look forward to seeing what new gem is in my inbox tomorrow morning.
For the longest time I had used a dictionary my mother bought me when I was in grade school, it is one of those dictionaries with the words most people use, one without fluff words. By fluff words I mean words that aren’t in a person’s essential vocabulary. After all who would call a kindergartener learning his ABC’s an abcidian? Odds are they wouldn’t understand and neither would most people. It evokes an image of a class of geniuses who are trying to find the meaning of life, not your average kindergarten class. In the dictionary my mother bought me I went and looked up words that I needed to know for vocabulary tests and such. When middle school came I began looking at certain four letter words that one begins to hear on TV and such. While we all now know what “hump” means there was a time in each of our lives when we merely thought that it was a small hill, bump, or that thing on the back of the old man drinking beer outside of the corner store.
It may sound odd to be talking this way so soon, but remember I am a teenager and as most people that looked through dictionaries was because it could be reasoned that they might have pictures or descriptions of said four letter words. As it goes the “S” section of my dictionary was the first to become worn. The others were soon to follow. You can always tell what kind of dictionary you have by the definitions of the words in it: the more primp; conservative dictionaries will give the bare minimum when it comes to defining certain words. The other kind would give slightly more detailed definitions, while they do not come close to the Urban Dictionary, they are quite telling. It’s funny how the way the dirty words are defined will tell you what kind of product you are looking at.
For the longest time words have been giving negative connotations when they do not deserve them. Since when did liberal become a four letter word? Or even conservative for that matter? ‘Son’ now can be used to refer to a friend or acquaintance, and has been for a few years. Pop culture has influenced our vocabulary more than we think. A character of the popular show The Simpsons, Homer’s catch phrase has been added into the dictionary. Now and forever “Do’h” has been immortalized as a word to be used when someone screws up or hurts themselves. The primp dictionaries won’t have it, but if you want to know what “Hunky Dory” means odds are it will be in there.
The same friend that gave me the present of the e-mails that bring me new and pretty words to use has a vocabulary to match. All of the words she uses are nice and pretty, she may curse every now and again but she sounds much more natural when speaking with her flowery vocabulary. I suppose that is the kind of vocabulary one gains when they like to write poetry. As for myself I am constantly using words I never even knew I knew how to use when I am writing. It may seem odd but none of them are large words, they all seem to be quite short, quaint even. I am no poet nor do I pretend to be, I have no pretty words to use. While they some may be quaint, they all sound rough, even when I use the nicer sounding words they always seem to come out jagged.
For some reason when I write anything I tend to ignore the word “stuff”. When teachers would go over our work they would say don’t use “stuff” or “things”. In writing these two words have become as bad as curses, they are not to be used, while when speaking no one ever says “don’t say stuff”. There seems to be a disconnect, both are ways of communicating, of expressing an idea so what goes for one should go for the other. Shouldn’t it?
I suppose the word a day e-mails may be considered the most useful present I have received in my long eighteen years of life. I especially enjoyed the week where they used words that sounded dirty but actually weren’t. Though they may not have been useful, (When would be the right time to ask someone if they were masticating?) it was certainly entertaining. I may not be in bated breath, but I certainly look forward to seeing what new gem is in my inbox tomorrow morning.
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