To: condorboy
Date: Wednesday, December 21—3:12 AM
Subject: spelling
Dear Connor,
There is something I believe in very deeply. Some people have Jesus. I have English. Here is one more reason I hate phones, specifically cell phones: texting. Sure, it seems convenient, but it is destroying the English language. I refuse to write in text speak. You will never read an LOL or ROTFL or WTF from me. NEVER! Our forepeople didn’t work for thousands of years creating this eloquent tool of expression only to have it rolled in the technological mud by a bunch of teenagers who are too lazy to spell correctly. We’re getting dumber as a society, Connor, and I refuse to be a part of it.
I’m feeling way better now. Like I’ve never felt this good in my life. I don’t know what happened, but suddenly it sort of feels like sleep is something I’ve grown out of. Which is fine with me, because I have so much to do. I finished all my college applications in two days. TWO DAYS! I think it’s a new world record. And they’re good, too. Brilliant, in fact. That’s the good news.
The bad news is no one else seems quite as thrilled about my newfound energy. I got sent home from school early today, which was fine with me because of course I didn’t actually go home, I just wandered around Broadway talking to people, but I guess my phone was ringing the whole time, but I had it turned off, and my dad was calling because the principal called him and told him I was being disruptive in class because I kept interrupting the teacher. This is what he told me when I got home, and I tried to explain to him that I was just taking an active role in my education by asking questions, like isn’t that what education is about? Exchanging ideas? Then he said it was a lecture class, not a discussion class, and I was like, “They are so fucking attached to their stupid definitions,” and he was like, “It’s not a definition, it’s just the way it is,” and I was like, “Dad, that doesn’t even make any sense,” but no one ever said he’s the brains in the family. I mean, how much brains does it take to be an out-of-work realtor? Then I said, “How do they expect to be a successful genius factory if they don’t allow some sort of discourse?” and he said, “Go to your room,” and I said, “Gladly,” because really, the only appeal to the rest of the house is the bathroom and the kitchen, and I’m so not hungry, and I can pee out my window if I have to.
Iz