hodgson.diaryland.com

spelling faulure

When I was in 6th grade or so I used to beat all the kids at spelling bees. They made us all participate in them each year, and I would always kick ass. One year I won with "bivouac".

There are two pretty sad things about my vocabulary. Well, three. The first is that after about 10th grade or so, it pretty much stagnated.

Second, it's still much broader than most people's.

Third, the largest growing demographic in my vocabulary over the last 10 years is by far swear words.

It gets a laugh.

But anyway I used to win the spelling bees. So there I was in 8th grade. I expected to win, naturally. I stood, smirking, my rebellious converse all star high tops planted firmly on the polished boards of the gym floor (untied, tres chic).

I spelled word after word, easily. The kids from my grade cheered me, because I was a slouch, and I was beating the good kids at their own game.

And so it came down to two. Myself, and Nyantara Hensel, the new girl. Her purple knee socks sneered at me over the tops of her k-mart tennis shoes. I knew I could take her. I took my place at the mic, and the crowd erupted in a cacophany of teenage voices, hooting, shouting, laughing.

There was silence. The word was called out.

"Barium"

Oh fuck, I thought.

Was it B-E or B-A? I didn't know. I went with B-E. It was (and is) B-A.

She had beaten me. God damnit. She smiled at me, because she was a geniunely nice person, and I told her to fuck off, because I wasn't.

I never tried to win again.

<-- | Comments(1) | -->