To Bed, I Said

Last year I resolved to quit pop, and quit I did (it’s the first resolution I’ve ever kept, truth be told). Because I kept my promise in 2009, this year I’m giving myself a break as far as resolutions go, for the most part. Instead, I’m going to suggest a few for those people who haven’t yet thought of a good one (my crafty way of calling out a few annoyances). There are things that should be put to bed along with 2009.

Maybe it’s nit-picky of me, but I think there needs to be an overhaul in the human communication department. I can be a stickler about grammar and spelling; not because I’m perfect at it, but because I’m a firm believer that we’ve become so accustomed to seeing horrendous writing habits that we put up with it (and sometimes even adopt them ourselves).

You’d never say, “bulldog is there soup roughly”, would you? No, because, though every word in that sentence is definitely a word, together they create a sentence that makes no sense. “Your” is a different word than “you’re” and has a completely different meaning. Just because words sound the same phonetically doesn’t mean they’re interchangeable.

Though I realize how snooty this complaint might sound, there is an epidemic that needs to be addressed, and people like me get hives and stuff when we think about it. So, repeat after me: “I will attempt to make proper use of the English language when communicating with others, even if it means having to proofread.” My Facebook wall thanks you in advance.

I get that we live in the age of shortcuts and efficiency and all that, but come on, no one could possibly be so rushed that “whatever” (an already overused word, by the way) has been shortened to “whatevs”. It only has one less letter than the actual word. ONE LESS LETTER!

Has it really come to this? Do we believe our time is so valuable that typing a few extra letters will significantly delay our plans for the day? There is a fine line between shorthand and plain laziness, and unlimited mobile texting packages seem to have blurred that line. So, repeat after me: “This year, I will not reduce myself or my intelligence to a sentence, typed, texted or otherwise, that reads similar to, ‘Come str8 home n I’ll talk 2 U @ wrk 2day.’”

I’m not Martha Stewart; I use slang like everyone else, usually without even knowing it, which is why I thought of this next resolution. I find myself, on a regular basis, employing the most unrefined and fabricated slang word in the history of slang words. Are you ready for it? “You’s’ll.” Read it again and you might discover you’re guilty of using it yourself.

Pronounced “Yoozzle”, it is a double-contraction (there is such thing, but this one isn’t on any list of proper ones, and I’ve searched) and serves as a short way to say “you guys will”. What makes the word even more offensive is how it seems to be an expression exclusive to this area, and nothing says “backwoods” quite like pretend lazy-words. In rural Kentucky you might hear, “Y’all’ll have bushels of fun at the tractor pull.” Doesn’t sound too sophisticated, does it? Bad news is, “You’s’ll have to stop over next time you’re down,” is the Cape Breton equivalent. Say it with me: “I hereby eliminate ‘you’s’ll’ and other similar made-up words from my vocabulary.”

I’m on a roll and running out of space, so the rest will have to be short and sweet.

“I will never pester anyone to join Farmville, nor will I try to explain it incessantly.” Believe it or not, there is an entire world of people who don’t make-believe they’re on farm. They’re okay with you and your preference, they’re just not interested in it themselves. Carry on.

“I will not judge people for wearing second-hand clothes.” Whoever decided that consignment shops are for poor people should be ashamed. They’re for thrifty shoppers, rich or poor, and no kid should ever be made to feel embarrassed that their shirt didn’t cost as much as someone else’s. Newsflash: with the exception of VERY few things, all of which could not be purchased at a consignment shop for one reason or another, I haven’t made a retail clothing purchase in close to five years.
Speaking of clothes, I’ll sign off with this resolution: “I, being an established individual over the age of 15, promise to never enter a grocery store wearing what are quite obviously pajama pants.” Tell your friends.

Here’s to a fantastic, grammatically-correct, judgement-free, pajama pants-less 2010!