Spelling Bee
(note: on waking up this morning, I’ve decided to delete this post, but since I know deleting it is useless since it is already on Bloglines and Google Reader, I might as well just keep it up and ask you to IMAGINE it deleted. So, do not read this post, especially you Mom, who I know will hate it and get all worried. Thank you for your cooperation.)
A boy steps to the microphone.
“The word is “depression.”"
“Di-presh-uhn?”
“Di-presh-uhn.”
“Di-presh-uhn?”
“Di-presh-uhn.”
“Definition?
“Depression is sadness, gloom, emotional withdrawl, the feeling of not wanting to play with yourself, but eating a lot of carb-heavy bagels.”
“What is the etymology?”
“Middle English from Latin.”
“Does the “De-” come from the root meaning “without” or “less?”"
“I don’t see anything here.”
“Di-presh-uhn?”
“Di-presh-uhn.”
“Di-presh-uhn?”
“Di-presh-uhn. You have thirty seconds.”
“May I have a sentence please.”
“Neil, feeling cranky, tired, and crying during “Do You Think You Can Dance?.” thought he might be in the midst of a depression.”
“Di-presh-uhn.”
“Yes.”
“Depression. D-E-P-R-E-T-I-O-N”
Ding!
“I’m sorry. Depression. D-E-P-R-E-S-S-I-O-N”
“Aw, shit!”
“Thank you.”
“Eh, you know what — f**k this stupid competition. As if spelling well is going to make any of us happy in the future when we grow up. I know what’s going to happen. We’re all going to become snot-ass English majors and end up unemployed, and the only time we’ll spell any of these words is when we’re in a bar trying to impress some chick from Vassar with our so-called knowledge, and maybe she’ll laugh, but then, she’ll end up giving a blowjob to our old college buddy in his BMW on the way home, because he’s now a big contract lawyer with Exxon, even though he can’t spell his own mother’s name, which is Kate.”
“Uh, thank you again…”
“I could become a lawyer with my degree, but who the hell wants to be a lawyer? But I guess things could even be worse. I could end up marrying a lawyer! Or I could end up writing a blog where I kvetch about my life and how everything went downhill after the spelling bee. And you know what the irony would be? The blog application has a f**king spell checker, so I don’t even need to KNOW how to spell anything!”
“Next please…”
“Depression? You want to talk about depression? Well, I’m DEPRESED!!!!”
Ding!
(Truth quotient, 43% — she wasn’t from Vassar)
A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: The Joy of 666 (a personal favorite! And also about spelling!)
No tag for this post.




18 Comments so far
Leave a comment
here’s one for you P A X I L
By better safe than sorry on 06.05.07 2:34 am
Funny post this morning, Neil. You had me at BMW Vassar blow job.
By You can call me, 'Sir' on 06.05.07 4:19 am
Less than I want to be, but when you combine the “authoring journal articles” stipend with my actual job I’m doing fairly OK. :-p
By Bre on 06.05.07 4:39 am
Oh no, my mother is going to call soon all worried. This is not really about me, Mom. It is just a piece of writing. Well, I am a little down, but not for any reason having to do with being an English major. It was very late when I wrote this. Maybe I’ll take it down when Sophia wakes up.
By Neil on 06.05.07 5:00 am
I had a double major, history and english, so they cancelled each other out, leaving me unfit for anything but blogging!!
By Jennifer on 06.05.07 5:27 am
I watched the spelling bee on TV the other night. I hate how they ask the same questions over and over again: “Part of speech?” “Etymology?” “Part of speech?”
By Rhea on 06.05.07 5:36 am
Too late. I already read it.
If I were your mother, I would already be worried about your talking penis.
By Eileen Dover on 06.05.07 5:38 am
Guys with BMWs have small penises. They do! That’s why they have the BMWs.
Have some more bagels. Carbs lift your mood. Or go get a blowjob, but not from a Vassar girl. Go for one from a public university. Everyone knows we’re sluts.
By Finn on 06.05.07 6:29 am
How do you talk to your son about his talking penis? I think most moms would avoid that subject.
I hope you get to feeling better Neil.
By Marilyn on 06.05.07 6:34 am
Finn has some very positive suggestions. All I could think was “oh honey, we’re here with you.” {{{{hugs}}}} but that’s probably too mushy and not funny/witty/English Majory to put here. But since I’m feeling kind of the same way as the protagonist in your story, (who is NOT you, Neilochka; we’re all clear on that.) it’s all I’ve got.
By Not Fainthearted on 06.05.07 6:35 am
Neil, I also have a degree in English…with a minor in Jewish Studies. How far in life does that get anyone? I ended up copy editing Christian romance novels! Go figure…
By Pearl on 06.05.07 6:50 am
My mother is all for being happy, and if her son’s penis talks to him, more power to it! But she doesn’t like to hear negative stuff. Mother + Jewish = a lot of worrying.
By Neil on 06.05.07 6:51 am
I’m with better safe than sorry Neil. Go see your doctor, then go to the beach. Some sun, and some sound sleep, can sometimes work wonders.
Also, try a snowball and/or some Cheetos. It’s hard to stay down in the dumps when you realize just how silly you look with a blu/green/etc. stained tongue and orange fingers.
By CiCi on 06.05.07 7:19 am
I didn’t really need to learn all that trigonometry either, the computer does it all for me.
These days I use the premenopausal excuse for my craziness. That should be good for another 10 years then I’ll switch to senility.
By psychomom on 06.05.07 7:22 am
Intro = fabulous. I sometimes get the urge to call people and tell them I’m ignoring them; this was the online equivalent(ish), I think.
By sandra on 06.05.07 7:42 am
It will be easier for me to blog about depression since you blogged first.
See, that “You show me yours, I’ll show you mine” mentality still works!
By V-Grrrl on 06.05.07 9:16 am
I know. It sounds so cliche’. I don’t like talking about it unless I’m with someone who I’m confident will understand. But one of the most cathartic things I ever did for myself was to say it out loud. And if people think it’s cliche’, then fuck ‘em, they’re not worth the time.
xo.
By Non-Highlighted Heather on 06.05.07 10:33 am
((((hug)))
By question girl on 06.05.07 3:27 pm
Leave a comment
Line and paragraph breaks automatic, e-mail address never displayed, HTML allowed:
<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>