Abridge To Brooklyn

"Break lights"

My mother called me this week and in between some serious news, and some light chatter, she slipped in a little, “And by the way, you spelled break wrong.”

Hmmmmm. Maybe that is why I get very few comments here. People are sitting on their twitching fingers wanting to tactfully tell me that I can’t spell. Sadly, it’s funny when it is done here, but not nearly as funny when it is unintentional unintelligence.

No worries mom, friends, blog stalkers, and friends alike. Memo received!

Not only can I now spell Break, I can also spell Brake, but if you knew how my day was going you would see why break is preferable to brake anyway.

Confused?

Try on 130,000 miles on your car for size and then you tell me how your brakes are feeling. Then we will talk about struts and alignments and all that other mumbo jumbo that I don’t understand but I know means $$$$. Oh, did I mention my husband is home from work today because we only have one car that did try on 130,000 miles for size? The same husband wasn’t super excited when I told him he could borrow my stroller. (I’ve got wheels too! I just don’t have to pay insurance on them!! Ha!)

Enough about Maximus Arrilius. (That’s the car’s name BTW, but it makes him sound all muscly and strong when in reality he is probable some wrinkly old man in car years.)

Lets talk about my grammar some more.

It all started….Well, first I would like to point out I am a voracious reader. Not only do I read a lot, but I read fast. Like really fast. Which is probably why grammar doesn’t matter much to me. The words are a blur anyway…..zm zm. (That was a zoom zoom whizzing by in case you needed me to slow it down for you).

Dd yu knw tht if I lft out mst of the vwles in a sntace you wld stll be abl to read it?

So you would think with all the reading that I do I would be able to spell.

Not so.

In ninth grade I decided to write a book for my mother for Mother’s Day. It was entitled “I Survived the Ninth Grade”. It was about how…..wait for it.…I survived the ninth grade. Survived, and passed actually, which is miraculous seeing as how I spelled “gorgeous” like “gorges” all throughout the book.

Come on! Just a few vowels were missing. And it makes a lot more sense to be drop dead gorges instead of drop dead gorgeous because I am pretty sure you’re more likely to drop dead in a gorge rather than from being gorgeous.

Agreed?

Then there was that time I had just finished serving a 18 month mission. So I had been out of school–hold on let me calculate–for 18 months. I was sitting at the computer stressing out because I had to cram two semesters worth of classes into one semester all because this one boy had asked me to marry him with his next sentence being, “And then we are going to move out of state so we can put 130,000 miles on our car.”

So, in my best stressed out voice I was explaining to my family how imperative it was that I finish my schooling pronto since no other school would accept my credits. I was simultaneously doing an internet search trying to find other universities that might actually have “Ballroom Dance” as a major. Yet my search for “collage, dance, ballroom” wasn’t yielding what I wanted.
In a rage I yelled, “Education is really important to me! How the heck do you spell college?”

My parents should have staged an intervention, because they probably thought I was going to end up living in a van down by the river.

My most prize grammatical moment happened on my family blog. I had shyly posted a paragraph from a short story I was writing. This is the paragraph:

It was for that reason that he patiently dealt with the four other judges, that he spoke great elucidations to the pubic, and that he wrote meaningless propaganda in the scrolls. The time was nearing. He could almost taste it, like a bat about to feast, blind, but senses inclined towards things that others could not see.

Notice any problems with it? I didn’t either, until the eighth commenter finally pointed it out. (Thanks again Monique!)

So in summary, I would just like to thank you for sticking around even though, try as I may, I don’t always write whats right.

My mom needs an editor!