I'm Bad

A couple of years ago, one of my students was eating a burrito. The student looked like she was enjoying the burrito, but then she exclaimed, “This burrito is dank!”

I was kind of confused. Why did this student look so content if her burrito was unpleasantly moist?

Upon further inquiry, I learned that dank was the new bad. Remember back in the ‘80s when bad meant both “bad” and “good”? Dank, too, can mean both. 

(I also learned that nothing makes you feel older than not knowing what “kids these days” are talking about and realizing that the slang you’re familiar with is circa "gag me with a spoon.") 

I was reminded of my "dank" experience when I read the hilarious blog post from my critique partner and fellow English instructor, Holly Vance. Her post was about her confusion regarding her students’ use of the word smashed. She didn’t know if her students were talking about getting drunk, laid, or owned. 

All I can say is thank god we have i.e.

I.e. is an abbreviation of a Latin phrase that basically translates to “in other words.” It’s used for clarification.

Therefore, this is what my student SHOULD HAVE said to achieve maximum clarity: 

This burrito is dank (i.e., awesome)!

Sometimes we confuse i.e. and e.g. However, don’t confuse them. That would be totally dank. And I don’t mean in a good way. I.e. means “in other words,” and e.g. means “for example.”  

This weekend, I am going to get smashed (i.e., drunk).

*I am clarifying what I mean by smashed.

I’ve been known to have quite an eclectic palate for alcohol (i.e., I’ll drink anything).

*I am clarifying what I mean by “eclectic pallet.”

I am going to go to the liquor store after work to get some of my favorites (e.g., Zima, Boone’s Strawberry Hill, and Manischewitz).

*I am providing examples of a few of my faves (but I’ll drink anything).

Because I am sophisticated, I like to add a garnish to my Zima (e.g., a lime wedge or a tiny umbrella).

*I am providing examples of garnishes.

I hope you have a dank weekend! I hope it’s really bad!

Settling for Good Enough

If you’ve ever spent time inside a college faculty lounge, you know that the number one thing teachers do in there is bitch about their students. We bitch about them texting during class when they should be hanging onto every bit of brilliance we espouse. We bitch about them spending more time on Facebook than on their homework. We bitch about how they don’t realize how lucky they are to have the Internet because when we were in college we had to swim uphill in quicksand to the library and read BOOKS.

Early in my career, I promised myself that if I ever became too embittered it was going to be time for me to find a new job. 

Well, after the batch of papers I just graded, I’m seriously considering updating my résumé. Please allow me this rant:

For my Critical Thinking class, my students were supposed to read articles and identify strong and weak points. (Of course, I provided them with criteria and a rubric and all that good stuff.) One of my students identified a point made by a Kardashian as a strong point. And this wasn’t just any old point either. It was really Kontroversial. Are you ready? One of the Kardashians claimed that it was a good idea to wear socks on an airplane because it can get cold. 

That, my friends, is what I am dealing with. 

On the one hand, I was expecting something a little more meaningful. On the other hand, it is a good idea to bring a pair of socks on a plane because it can get cold. 

Despite my frustration, I don’t think I’m embittered yet. I still do love my students. I have, however, lowered my expectations. My experience reminds me of what Bridget Fonda’s character said about dating in the movie Singles:  

 Janet: Well, when I first moved out here from Tucson, I wanted a guy with…looks, security, caring. Someone with their own place. Someone who said "bless you" or "gesundheit" when I sneezed. Someone who liked the same things as me, but not exactly. And someone who loves me.

Steve: Tall order.

Janet: Yeah, I scaled it down a little.

Steve: What is it now?

Janet: Someone who says "gesundheit," although I prefer "bless you.” It's nicer.

When I first started teaching, I wanted my students to discover their writing potential. I wanted them to relish in language and ideas. I wanted them to push themselves beyond their comfort zone. I wanted them to master punctuation and realize how it not only provides clarity but can add nuance. Now, I would be happy if someone correctly used the apostrophe 75 percent of the time. Maybe even 50 percent.

The apostrophe is my “bless you.”

Have you ever lowered your standards? What’s your “bless you”?

Rock Me Editor

Remember that scene in the beginning of Amadeus when Salieri proudly presented a "March of Welcome" in Mozart's honor and Mozart immediately improved upon it? Salieri was mortified.

That's how I felt this week when I received my manuscript back from the copy editor and saw all the grammar corrections she made--on my GRAMMAR guide.

 Don't worry; I am not going to plot the downfall of my copy editor.

In fact, in a way, it felt like a bit of  luxury to have someone read my work for errors since that's what I am constantly doing for my students.

Still, it was a little rough on the old self-esteem.

You know what would really help? If you would leave comments riddled with grammar errors.

Misery does love company.

American Cheese

Once upon a time, before the days of real jobs and bills, I embarked on one of those post-college, self-discovery adventures. I ended up living in a village on the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica called Puerto Viejo. Despite having contracted a bizarre mosquito-related disease, it was a wonderful experience; there were beautiful beaches, a laid back vibe, and hot local men. But, since it was a village, the culinary options were quite limited.  When a French woman opened a restaurant, my friend and I were excited by the prospect of eating  something for breakfast besides eggs and gallo pinto (a rice and beans dish).

We were stoked when the owner said she served french toast. And she looked like an angel when she walked towards us holding two plates of what I thought were morsels of sweet, egg-soaked, fried, buttery deliciousness. What she set down in front of us was plain old toast.

If we had taken her to court over it, I’m not sure we would have won our case because she might have had us on a technicality: she was French and she did serve us toast.

I guess we got French toast instead of french toast.

Since that traumatic experience, I don’t like to capitalize foods and drinks that include the names of nationalities, such as french fries, swiss cheese, and irish coffee. It’s not incorrect to capitalize them; it’s more of a stylistic choice. I don’t capitalize them for the same stylistic reasons I choose not to wear Crocs: I think it looks a bit clunky. 

Also, it could be confusing. For example, if I wrote, “I remember a little Danish,” it would be impossible to know whether I was referring to the language or a delicious pastry of yore. And if I wrote, “Have you seen that Irish stew?” I could either mean a soup or a troubled Irish person.

Best Sext Ever

I got an exciting sext message from my friend Amy a few minutes ago. (Sext is short for surprising text, right?) It said, “Your book is on Amazon already!”

Isn’t it exciting that I have a friend who, even when she’s sexting, writes out the word your, capitalizes the word Amazon, and closes with appropriate punctuation?

Oh, and I guess I am also pretty excited that this book thing is actually really happening! I’m so excited I want to use a ridiculous number of exclamation points! Can I? Just this once? Thank you.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here’s the link. It doesn’t come out until September, but check it out. Have your friends check it out. Turn to the person to your right and ask him or her to check it out. Write your congressperson. Does anyone know Oprah? Can you put in a good word for me?

Come and Knock on Our Door

Knock knock

Who’s there?

To

To who?

To WHOM!

Someone told me that joke the other day, and you know what I did?

I laughed.

And then I panicked.

I panicked because I realized that I just laughed out loud at a super corny grammar joke.

I laugh at corny jokes, I listen to talk radio, I stop drinking before I get too drunk because I can’t afford to waste a day to nurse a hangover. What have I become? An adult?

Something strange is definitely going on because I’ve even started to like the word whom. I used to think whom was pointless and pretentious. I agreed with William Safire, author of the New York Times Magazine’s "On Language" who said, “When whom is correct, recast the sentence.” But in the past couple of years, I’ve acquired quite a taste for the word.

There are rumors, however, that the word whom may join the VCR, payphone and Paris Hilton in the land of oblivion. And just when I was developing an appreciation for it! In an effort to save whom from the endangered species list, I’d like to give a quick recap on when to use it:

Let’s pretend for a moment you are Ernest Hemingway. You just came up with the perfect title for your novel about the Spanish Civil War, but you can’t remember whether it should be For Who the Bell Tolls or For Whom the Bell Tolls.

Here’s what you do. You take a sip of your mojito and then ask yourself, “Ernest, old chap, does it make sense to say the bell tolls for him or the bell tolls for he?”

Then you take another sip of your mojito and answer, “It makes sense to say him.”

And that’s how you know that whom is the correct choice.

Here’s the trick: when we answer the question with him, we use whom; when we answer it with he, we use who. (We could substitute him with her and he with she, but him ends with m and so does whom, so it’s easier to remember.)

Let’s try another one:

Pretend you are Dr. Seuss and you just wrote a delightful book about an elephant. Is the correct title Horton Hears a Who or Horton Hears a Whom?

Just My Type

I might have to change the focus of this blog from grammar to Mad Men. All I want to do is talk about the show. I want to talk about what they’re going to do with Sally’s character and how handsome Don Draper is and how funny Roger Sterling is this season. I’m particularly obsessed with Don’s new wife, Meghan. I thought her "Zou Bisou Bisou" rendition was awesome.

I knew it was only a matter of time before Don remarried because psychologist Dr. Faye Miller foreshadowed it when she said, “You’ll be married again in a year. I forget that some people don’t like to think they’re a type.”

The part about people not liking to think they’re a type really stuck with me. I, of course, would like to think that I am a unique, little snowflake, but a few years ago I learned that I was a type. Someone said to me, “You’re an English teacher and you drive a Saab; you must be a liberal.” Apparently, I’m a cliché!

I guess there is something comforting about knowing that there are like-minded people out there. And it’s also nice to know that, thanks to the comma, I have some control over how much I can emphasize those similarities.

For example, let’s say I met a liberal-minded, English-teaching, Saab driver with Don Draper’s looks, Roger Sterling’s sense of humor, and Peggy Olsen’s feminist ideals. I would definitely want to stress our similarities. Therefore, if he said, “I love heirloom tomatoes,” I would respond with:

I, too, love heirloom tomatoes.

I love heirloom tomatoes, too.

Using commas with too emphasizes it. If we don’t want to emphasize the too, we simply don’t use commas:

I too love heirloom tomatoes.

I love heirloom tomatoes too.

Okay, so enough of that grammar nonsense. Do you think Betty and Meghan will meet? Do you think Joan’s husband will come home from Vietnam to a silver-haired baby? Do you think Don will cheat on Meghan?

Is it Sunday night yet?