Context is everything.
Imagine Romans taking the elevator up their Aqueducts; French gentry tweeting in horror during the revolution; what if Christopher Columbus had GPS to find his way to India. The possibilities are endless.
Eva and Marie were best friends.
They’d been best friends since the first grade, having met in line, waiting for the school bus, at the end of their first day. The girls had bonded over their shared love of Rainbow Bright and talked each other’s ears off all the way to Eva’s stop. As the bus had pulled away that afternoon, the newfound friends had waved at each other, both knowing that from then on, they’d be inseparable.
And they were.
For six years, the girls spent all their time together; they played together in the schoolyard at recess, got into trouble for speaking to each other during class, slept over at each other’s houses on weekends and played on the same soccer team in the summer.
That is until the year they turned twelve.
That year marked a new chapter in their life: middle school. And unfortunately, it was a chapter they would have to face separately. To the girls’ deepest chagrin, they were being forced to attend different schools. Eva was to attend public school, while Marie’s parents had enrolled her in private school. And no amount of tears, screams, door slamming or desperate pleas uttered between fits of incontrollable sobbing could reverse the decision.
So on the eve of the new school year, the girls made a pact. They promised each other that they would forever remain friends and that come hell or high water, they would write each other a letter per day, detailing every moment spent apart, “so it’d be like they’d been there the whole time”.
Eva made good on her promise.
An introvert, making friends didn’t come easy to her. Braces and early signs of acne also made her prone to teasing. Middle school was a cruel place, so she spent many lunches alone, pouring her anguish out on paper, comforted by the knowledge that at the end of the day, her best friend would be there for her.
And she was… at first.
Unlike Eva, Marie had a bubbly, infectious personality. It wasn’t long before she gathered a full set of new friends. None of them as important as Eva, she said, but as time passed, more and more of Eva’s letters remained unanswered.
By Christmas, weeks had gone by since Marie’s last letter.
Eva didn’t dare confront Marie about her broken promise. And as it turned out, she didn’t need to. For two uninterrupted weeks over the holiday break, the girls were reunited and it was as if no time had passed. They spent every waking hour together and caught up on every missed moment. Those two weeks were worth more than any letter and all was forgiven. When the holidays came to an end, it wasn’t with gloom, but with renewed confidence that the girls went their separate ways.
Also, by that time, Eva had managed to make new friends of her own and didn’t require as much support from Marie. So when her first five letters were met with silence, she too abandoned the project.
The rest of the school year flew by and before they knew it, summer was upon them. Like years past, both girls signed up to the soccer team. Eva was excited to be reunited with her best friend on the soccer pitch. If Christmas had been any indication, the summer was sure to be a blast.
From the first day of practice, Marie exhibited behaviour towards Eva that could only be described as distant. As the summer progressed, things went from distant to outright cold, with things culminating on a rainy game day.
That day, the sky was dark shades of gray and summer showers had transformed the pitch into a slippery mud bath. It fit Eva’s mood perfectly. With only a few seconds left in the game and a one-goal deficit, it looked like her team was headed towards another defeat.
Then, out of left field came a pass from Marie and Eva found herself in front of a wide-open net with the outcome of the game on the tip of her toes. As she took a step back to kick, she felt the ground disappear beneath her feet.
Eva had slipped.
She had slipped, missed the ball and landed sitting in a puddle. Before she could even get up, the whistle announcing the end of the game blew.
That’s when Marie, followed by her new posse, came over to where Eva was still sitting, covered in mud. Eva thought it was to help her up and reached out, but instead, Marie simply looked down and spat the words “I guess they don’t teach how to be a winner in public school” at her.
The words were like a slap in the face, and as she watched her best friend walk away, Eva finally let the tears she’d been holding all summer roll.
Eva and Marie were best friends. Then they weren’t.
I do not want to label these as "Texas" words because maybe other states/countries use these words...or did.
I can think of two words that I say and everyone always does a double take, so that's why I am labeling these as " generation words" because I obviously picked them up from my Granny.
You say refridgerator - I say icebox
I say pallet - you say ????
I have no idea what else to call it so I do not know what you might say, but I say pallet.
"Here, let me make you a pallet on the floor."
Basically it is a bunch of quilts folded up for you to sleep on top of for the night, (if there is not a couch or extra bed).
Did you enjoy the free look?
Did it turn you on?
I have to ask you more though, I must know,
Were you really intrested in me?
What I think and have to say?
The way I talk, and the way I sway?
Or was it what that you wanted to see me underneath my cloths?
The way I sqush when you squeeze me?
Did you enjoy how my flesh feels so soft?
Did you lust for me, and lie to me, just to be with me, then walk away?
Battle rap (also known as battle rapping or battle rhyming) is a type of rapping that includes a lot of braggadocio (bragging and boasting) content "combined with put-downs, insults, and disses against real or imaginary opponents". Battling can occur on recorded albums, though battle raps are often recited or freestyled spontaneously in live battles, "where MCs will perform on the same stage to see who has the better verses".
Battle rapping is described by 40 Cal in the book How to Rap as "extracurricular" and he compares it to the dunk contest in the NBA. Battle raps are often written solely for the purpose of impressing people with technically inventive rapping,]and knowing a wide variety of rapping styles and a wide range of MCs is recommended. Some MCs started out writing mostly battle raps and battling other MCs before they began making records.
Rap battles have always fascinated me: The way artists compete to knock out their opponents by being better in composing lyrics and rhymes on the top of their minds to the beat of hip hop music.
I think this could be an interesting take on the theme language and I think it could be really cool to have a rap battle about language segment in the show. Maybe we could limit it to “no swearing”?
I could see it being performed at a live event, on a street corner or we could record ourselves at home and the edit it together.
In Montreal, there is an unbelievable amount of hostility between the people who speak the two main language of the city, French and English. Because the province's official language is French, there are rules set in place by the goveernment that are meant to promote French and put down English.
An example of this is that restaurant owners who put up signs have to put the French on their signs marginally bigger than the English.
There are even language police that go around the city checking that the many language rules are being kept. I find it kind of sad that instead of language opening people up to new cultures, it can sometimes create hostility and put up barriers between groups of people.
Y'all = you all
ain't = am not ( I ain't gonna do that)
thang = thing
yander = a direction "over yander")
tank = pond
var'mit = varmint
gonna = going to
fixins = side dishes
pecan = if you ever say this and it sounds like "peecan" you automatically get banned from our state.
kicker = cowboy/cowgirl (school classification: jocks, nerds and all the other known "labels" as well - but this word was only used in schools never will you hear an adult say this to define a cowboy or cowgirl)
"Oh you poor thang" = You are an idiot.
I think I fall in love a little with each person I meet.
All it takes is a smile, or a look, or a piece.