I was taking my linguistics midterm, and I read one of the questions. The question asked for an example of a minimal pair using the “ch” sound (can’t figure out where to find the correct symbol…) and the “j” sound. The answer was “lunch” and “lunge,” and I was very unhappy with the answer because the “lun” sounds of the two different words are slightly different, so I felt as though it wasn’t a true minimal pair. Then, I told my friend that was also taking the same class that I did not like the answer, even going as far to think, “Who came up with this bad example?” She responds, “Didn’t you come up with that one?” And then, I paused. Did I? I looked at my old linguistics homework, and sure enough, I did come up with that minimal pair in my homework… So I was dissing myself…
My little cousin messaging me. When he messaged me originally, I just laughed because he only ever messages me to tell me about what level his Superman is on, or what new characters he’s acquired on his team. It’s insignificant, but then it suddenly hits me that my young (eight year-old) cousin has something to talk to me about, and more importantly, he wants to talk to me. I’ve realized that as a significantly older cousin, there’s so much that I wish I could do for my younger cousins, so much I want to connect to them with, and so much affection I want to outwardly express to them because they’ll always be the cute babies that I want to carry in my arms and act like a fool toward just to see them crack a smile. My little cousins are growing up way too quickly, and though they may soon find my behavior towards them immature, I want to always be able to connect with them. I want to be that cousin that they can later go to for advice and have heart-to-heart conversations with when they feel like there is no one else. Hopefully, I can be that person, just the way my older cousin is to me.
Age is a very easy excuse. When we grow old, we regret things, and our default excuse is that we are too old for whatever it is that we regret. Then, there are those people that don’t let age hinder their dreams. Though life has thrown them challenge upon challenge, they don’t forget their dream, and they don’t let age become an excuse. That’s how we need to be. Sure, we may grow old, but there is always time to make up for things. We aren’t dead yet, and that means that there is still time. There are still chances, and we are never too old to take advantage of them. We just need to tell ourselves that it’s only a bump in the long journey of life, and if you fall, you just need the strength to rise again.
Indeed it’s been a while. I used to have so much to write, so much to say, so many feelings mounting within myself that I rushed to release them all on paper. But now, there is barely anything. The well of ideas and inspiration have dried with the drought. And like the rain, my inspiration has abandoned me, only to arrive for an unsatisfactory couple of minutes before disappearing again into limbo. The brief encounter is like finding a mere droplet of water when one is aching in thirst. My dehydrated ambition is left feeling weaker than before, and the desire to give up looms more powerfully nearby, waiting for its chance to take over. What is there to go after with my club when there is nothing for miles around?
So along the barren path I wander, hoping to discover a fresh, everlasting well in a world where rain is ever ample and dependent.
Me: [walks out the door to the bathroom] Bye guys, see you tomorrow!
Roommate 1: [mental facepalm]
Roommate 2: Huh?
Me: [returning after brushing my teeth] Good morning guys!
Roommate 1: [snickers]
Roommate 2: [shakes head]
Haha, how dorkier can you get? 🙂
So there were these two people that asked me where this place was, but I had no idea what they were talking about, so I kept naming places to see if any of them would ring a bell. Thankfully, one did, and for some odd reason they expected it to be an easy explanation because once I pointed in one direction, they started walking away. I was slightly annoyed because I wasn’t done talking, so I hastily said, “Go down that way” pointing forward, “down that way” pointing left, “and downer” pointing right again. I’m sure they completely knew where to go after that!
But seriously people, if you ask for directions, at least wait for the person to finish talking before you walk away.
How does taking an advanced class in a foreign language automatically make one a native speaker of that language? I’m American, utterly and completely American, and despite how embarrassing it is to be one at times, I will forever and always be completely American.
I somehow find myself always wanting to speak intelligently, and show off perfect English despite my inadequate vocabulary. I want to scream out loud that I was born and raised in America and that my English is unaccented. But what can I do if I might not look like the typical American?
Though I do embrace and love the culture that my parents and grandparents were born and raised with, I want to be known as distinctly American before anything else. Who cares where people’s family members are from, that says little about who they really are. What matters is what the person believes themselves to be, no matter what they look like.