Months of study meant that I was now well accustomed to student life. I awoke at 9am, giving me enough time to shower, brush my teeth and get to yoga. I’d spend the next hour stretching and de-stressing with the Mum Crowd. Having returned relatively unscathed from the school run, they’d tottle into the studio, clad from head to toe in Lorna Jane, peppered with inspirational quotes that just made me want to puke.
Actually, it may have been the lack of caffeine that led to my lack of tolerance – I’m not pleasant to be around when I’ve yet to ingest a soy latte. And yes, I acknowledge the hypocrisy of being a yoga-attending, latte-drinking, Vespa owner who’s taking the piss out of the school mums for wearing Lorna Jane – but I’ve never proclaimed to be perfect.
When I found out that one of our first exams was scheduled for 8.30am in the first week of exam block I was less than impressed. Even worse, it was winter and a cold spell had hit the capital city of the Sunshine state, which meant single digit temperatures, three days in a row. Although it almost bought the city to a halt, it was no excuse to cancel the exam and desperate for a break, I couldn’t justify faking illness to avoid the early start.
I disembarked from the train, slightly brain dead, undercaffeinated, overly stressed and stuck behind a slow-walker. I tried to pass her on the left but she drifted in front of me. I tried to pass her on the right but she drifted back. Although I espouse non-violence values, the desire to push her under the train was overwhelming. I settled for a deep breath instead.
It took me five minutes – and all my patience – to get around her. Once I was safely ensconced on the opposite side of the street with a set of traffic lights and a little red man between us, I began to wonder why no one had created a word or phrase to describe the experience of being stuck behind a slow-walker who wafted. It happened so frequently and was such a frustrating experience that it warranted attention.
I decided to text one of my friends to enlist his support. He’s one of the wittiest people I know. Unfortunately he’s stuck in a job that only requires 10% of his brain to be functioning at any one time (and that’s on a good day). Wasted talent as far as I’m concerned.
Upon departing my previous place of employment, my friend presented me with a list of potential ninja names, representative of my new career in law, created using all the letters from my first and last names. To be honest, I wasn’t so sure how the fourth anagram fit but perhaps he knew something about law that I didn’t.
Sly Law Clues
We Sly – Call Us
Cuss Law, Yell
Wussy Cell, Al
We caught up for an impromptu lunch after my exam and I provided him with his brief – create a word or phrase and I’d include it in my blog. We could copyright it and he’d make millions. Except I have no idea how to copyright anything – they may cover that in our third year… But he doesn’t know that.
I informed my friend, Chas, that he’d have to change his name for the blog. Usually I ask my friends to pick out their own pseudonym but this time I decided to allocate one. As I had expected, he was upset and informed me that Chas, already a nickname, would suffice.
Unfortunately, it was a non-negotiable condition. The thing is, I’m hanging out with 17-year-olds and I may not be hip but I do need to stay relevant and, right now, adding a Z to the end of words is where it’s at. The use of shortened words, also popular with the 17-year-olds, makes online communication much easier but given Chas only contains four letters, reducing it to Cha just makes him sound like a prat. The way forward was clear – he would be known as Chaz.
For those not familiar with the vernacular common amongst the 17-year-olds, I’ve included a few examples below:
Totes = Totally
The definition by That’sWhatsup14 sums this one up better than I ever could:
Soz = Sorry
Similar to the word Totes – it just saves time. According to one definition in Urban Dictionary soz is ‘not just a word, but a way of life.’ I’m unsure how that works but if anyone can enlighten me, please do.
Lol = Laugh out loud
Used when your friend posts a Cat’s Knocking Sh*t Over Compilation video on your Facebook wall. It’s also used by some when they don’t have the energy to engage but want to make it look like they care. It’s quite clever in terms of conflict avoidance – three letters, but the other person knows no different.
Expresses indifference, to be used when one simply does not care.
You might think I’m exaggerating but, trust me, I’m not. It was heading towards the end of the semester and the 17-year-olds were complaining about one of the lecturers. The poor guy had made the mistake of making a joke at the start of a lecture about starting on time in order to finish on time so the students could get out to the clubs. He then referred to himself as being young and hip (I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, if you have to say you’re something then you’re not).
The guy was obviously joking but, it was the end of the semester and stress levels were high – miscommunication was a likely outcome. One 17-year-old, particularly annoyed by the implication he just wanted to go out nightclubbing turned to me and said:
‘I was like, dude, we’re just here to learn. Go through the content.’
I felt bad for the lecturer. I’d been there; I’d tried to be hip too. It was only my standing as a student (rather than an educator) that prevented me from making my attempt in front of a lecture theatre full of 17-year-olds two weeks out from exam block. I decided to distract the 17-year-old and save myself the hassle of checking my study guide to see whether or not there was a lecture in Week 13.
‘Excuse me, do you know if the torts lecture is on tonight?’
‘Yeah, it’s just revision though so I’m going to watch it online tomoz.’
See, add a Z and the word becomes hip. In fact, Chaz should be thanking me, for I’ve just upped his street cred without him having to lift a finger (or turn his cap backward).
I hadn’t even made it halfway home when a text arrived with the perfect phrase included.
Chaz knows me well enough to realise that I’m not changing my mind but that won’t stop him from complaining. I’ve told him to send through a cease and desist letter. In return, I’ll send back a letter that’s actually a page copied from my torts textbook. It won’t make any sense but it will be enough to divert his attention, for a while.
He should know that resistance is futile. In fact, I’ve even created a special copyright symbol just for him. I just hope that I don’t have to use it anytime soon, one Sober Acting Drunk walker is more than enough during exam block.
The next Sober Acting Drunk walker may not be so lucky.