Hey Y’all! I’m Miley, filling in for Peachy again today. If you saw Thursday’s post, you may have learned a little bit about me and the fun with my Facebook page. I have to say, the amount of effort it takes for Peachy to do those posts every week is completely misrepresented – it takes a lot of work to get it all pretty-fied!
If you didn’t catch that blog and don’t feel like checking it out, let me tell you a little bit about myself. I have a little blog here where I ramble about things. I also have a facebook page for my blog. Basically, it’s a place for me to get it all off my chest. Sometimes I rant. Sometimes I talk about school or my kids. Sometimes I get all possessed and start acting like a real human being and on those days, I managed to inspire people somehow. I have no job, basically no social life and a LOT of time to think. So, I write it all out.
I’m also a total nerd. I mean… really. My IQ is creepy high, I like puzzles, I do geeky things and I won’t date people who are terrible spellers or have grammatical issues in their writing. I also have a serious pet peeve about the “words” ‘u’ and ‘r’ and similar abbreviations in text messages. Plus, really, I’m worth the extra letters. Come on people. I am THAT fabulous.
Seeing those things makes me want to cut someone. Or punch them in the throat. Or palm their nose. You get the idea. I REALLY hate it. I am an extremely patient person and I am all for helping those who want to be helped. For example, I proofread a paper for a girl in my English class b/c English is not her first language. She tries but some of her verb conjugation is lacking. My baby brother has no excuse. English is his first language and everyone in our family is educated. When he uses that “21st century text language” I get so irritated that I could… well… cut someone.
Our whole family (baby bro aside) is very opposed to the idea of incorrect grammar and similar issues. When my mom sends me a text message (I know!! I was shocked when she started doing it too!) it usually comes over as 3-5 texts because she seems to think of it like email. Whatever mom, ok. You never call, so I get a text. What is this world coming to?!
I mentioned something to her about it and she said that she HATES it when my baby brother does this “short hand text crap” like ‘idk’ and ‘ikr’ and ‘u r’ crap. He should spell it out! It’s so hard to read that!” Yes mom, I know, I know. I completely agree. This became a family discussion after church one Sunday when I was in town. It was a very impassioned discussion. Oh, and baby brother wasn’t there at the time of course. Still, the entire family who was present agreed that the shortcuts in IM and text language are serious bullshit.
A few months ago, I get 4 texts in a row from my mom. My mom and I are really close and we agree on most everything. We have the type of relationship where we can talk for hours every day, if we had the time or inclination to do so. This day, however, was different. She informed me that she and her husband are kicking my baby brother out of the house. This happens every few months, so I was like “yawn, whatever”.
Usually, this is followed by a “talk to your brother”. sigh. So, I asked her if he was at home or if he was working.
DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT FUCKING BITCH SAID?!
Yes!! I wanted to take my fucking go go gadget arms and punch her in the throat from 5 hours away! WHAT. THE. HELL.
I just stared at that text like “This is a joke. This HAS to be a joke. WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY MOTHER?!”
I swear to God, it was like growing up your whole life in a mansion, being told you were a princess, only to find out you really lived in the damn ghettos slums of Philly and you ain’t nothin’ more than a hooker’s ghetto daughter.
I told her “oh no you did NOT just idk me!”
I was completely serious about this. Infuriated even. Pigs were starting to go apeshit in my head and monkeys were flying. This is not an exaggeration. In fact, pigs and monkeys were mating, throwing poo at each other then rolling in it like a mudbath. Then, they went off and started doing this insane satanic ritual that involved oatmeal, tarring & feathering the ducks (why?! Because they are JUST. THAT. BAD) and took some alcohol and shoved it down the cow’s throat, and the half monkey-half pig flying beast hopped on a unicorn and killed all the butterflies in the world.
THAT is how messed up this was for me!
She responds with “Yes, yes I did. Is yid short for yes I did? YID”
Mama say WHAT? She’s going to DEFEND that? And then try to make up ANOTHER idiotic shorthand? I think my mom is dead. I mean, surely she’s dead. MY mom wouldn’t do that to me. No effing way. MY mom wouldn’t ‘idk’ me, are you kidding?! Then do THAT?
I go into full on panic mode. I mean… Who IS this woman? Was I really raised by an alien or was my mom abducted or…
Soooo many thoughts ran through my head (aside from all the poor dead butterflies).
Me: “YANC. Know what that means? YOU ARE NOT COOL”
Boy, I was HOT. I mean, obviously, you can tell that by the fact that I sent her a totally red text message, right? Right. Exactly.
She must have known it too because there was silence for about 45 minutes. Nothing. Then, I get this:
OK mom. You win. I had to give her credit for that one. Folks, this is why you don’t mess with a woman with a degree in Psychology. They will ALWAYS know how to get under your skin.