Monday, March 21, 2011

Speaking a Language all my Own

I think (and that’s all that matters really) that if someone were to know me by my writing alone, they would think, wow, this girl has an amazing vernacular aptitude. I feel like I might possibly come across as someone with a firm command of grammar and syntax who can eloquently relay poignant and profound messages precisely (and knows how to use alliteration). I would hope that through my writing I sound intelligent and competent and very knowledgeable about my world.

This is how I like to believe I present myself in my writing…

But alas, in person, I am semi-dysfunctional in my ability to relay a message.

First of all, I have the attention span of a squirrel. While talking about one thing, my brain is thinking of 495 other things and if one of those topics is more interesting than my current topic I will switch to the more alluring like Brad Pitt did for Angelina Jolie. (Sorry Jennifer, I was rooting for you)

Second, I have some sort of memory recall problem when it comes to using the correct word. I WANT to use impressive words but they are hidden in the mess of grocery lists, work stressors and fictional characters in development all jumbled together in my brain. It took 10 minutes of staring at a brick wall, then getting distracted by the pictures on said wall, before I could pull out the word vernacular to use 3 paragraphs ago. People rarely have time to wait for my brain to produce the sentence I’m trying to construct. (Then once I do find the word I’m looking for it is usually wrong in the context I’m trying to applying it)

Also, it takes me an inordinately long time to get to my point. I usually have 3 or more disclaimers and precursors to my explanation before I even begin. I’m like that SNL character played by Fred Armisen on weekend update that is there to share the news but can never actually GET to his point because he is disclaiming and buffering himself before starting.

And last, because I’m a story teller, I want to include masses of details into my explanations, but I’m constantly worried that I’m boring people. So I end up telling a story with as much detail as I can throw in AND leave out at the same time. It makes for a very messy explanation. I’ll jump forward and backwards as I leave out details to be concise, and then have to add them back in later (out of order) because it was actually a pertinent detail to the story.

Oh, and I also make up words (Wonky and Sloopy) use tenses wrong (Drinken) and make nouns into verbs (Couponing). I must be exhausting to listen to.

So what does this all boil down to? I speak a language all my own. It’s messy and sporadic, often confusing and choppy, and I have a colossal problem being parsimonious.

I honestly can’t understand how anyone knows what I’m saying at any given point.

Many have tried to understand my language, few have succeeded, and most give up after their first Savannah induced headache. But there are the rare champions who can not only understand, but speak my language. They deserve a cookie. An outsider listening in on this rare dialect of Savvy will have no comprehension as to what is ACTUALLY being said.

I love when I can say, “coupons are like diabetes” and no more explanation is necessary to get my point across. I promise the explanation in my head will not translate out loud so this definition needs to be sufficient.

I’d like to share a sample of a typical conversation I had with someone who speaks Savvy, just to illustrate my point…

Me: "The Bear and Moose are still holding hands"
Savvy Speaker: “That's because of the garbage”
Me: “I got the hooker out”
SS: "Good"

I could write code for the U.S. govornment that woul be uncrackable!

I truly wonder how anyone can stand to conversate with me.


Helaine said...

I want to know why coupons are like diabetes!!!

Mom said...

You are hilarious! There is no one like you and that is a good thing, not only because it makes you unique, but because you are too special to be imitated!