Redundant (adj.): exceeding what is necessary or normal;  characterized by or containing an excess; using more words than necessary; characterized by similarity or repetition. “Doesn’t the definition for the word redundant seem a bit… redundant?”

So today’s blog is a true story.  It’s short and sweet and straight to the point.  It is not very long.  It will only take a short time to read.

JEEZ!!!  Redundancy is contagious!

But I digress.  Today’s word takes us back to a beautiful Friday afternoon.  The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and over all the day had gone pretty peachy.  My mom and I were driving from… somewhere (I honestly can’t remember, which means that it probably wasn’t significant), but we were driving down a long stretch of word where street construction had been going on for the past ten million years it seems (those of you who know me personally probably know exactly what road I am talking about).  Anyway, it’s me, mom, annoying birds, scorching sun, and we are listening to one of our favorite radio stations.

Now, let me just say that I know for a fact that it was after 3pm because the radio DJ on was one that I highly dislike.  For the sake of privacy, and the fact that I don’t have the money to go through a lawsuit, we’ll rename the disk jockey (can I get a “whoop whoop” for old school terminology?) RiTA.  Now I honestly cannot tell you why I do not like RiTA; there’s just something that rubs me the wrong way.  And if you were to hold me at gun point while strangling me with a piece of rope and slitting my wrists, my answer would then be simply: RiTA is way too redundant.

Today’s example:

Mom: “And that’s what I believe…”

Me: Turns up radio.  “Still hoping to marry Donnie McClurkin?”

Mom: Looks at me out of the corner of her eye.  “He can’t handle me.”

Me: Laughs.

RiTA:  “You’re listening to RiTA and that was Believe by Donnie McClurkin.  It’s a beautiful Friday afternoon and in a minute we’ll start our discussions but right now I want to ask you a question.  It’s stimulating, and most people don’t even think about it, but I’m askin’ you to think about and then call in your answer.  The question is, “Are you looking for wisdom today?”  I’m asking you that.“

Okay, stop.  After I heard that, I had to turn down the music and fully face my mom, which is hard when wearing a seatbelt properly.  What the heck was that?  “Are you looking for wisdom today?  I’m asking you that.”  HELLLLOOOOO?!?!?!  Do you not hear the question mark?  Do you not understand that when the tone at the end of a sentence goes up that it signals a question?  Why ask a question and then remind that you are asking it?  I know, I know.  I’m a stickler for this kind of stuff and it might not bother you the way it does me, but honestly?  That damages my self-esteem!  You don’t think I’m intelligent enough to know when you are asking a question?  First of all, you started the sentence off with “Are”, an immediate sign that this is not a sentence of the declarative persuasion.  I think from that I can deduce that, “Hey, look!  He’s asking a question!”  And then, he even pre-announces that he’s asking the question.

I don’t know about you, but this just… as soon as I heard it, I wrote it down in my agenda to blog about it.  I was so upset at that moment that I didn’t, and still don’t, have a laptop because this blog might have been a bit longer than it actually is.  I was feeling intense emotions that day…

But tell me: am I blowing this out of proportion?  Should I give RiTA another chance to redeem my good graces?  Comment or poll it (I’m gonna give it a shot!).  Stay blessed you guys!

~SmrtChka

Day (n.):  the mean solar day of 24 hours beginning at mean midnight;  the period of rotation of a planet (as earth) or a moon on its axis;  a specified time or period;   the time established by usage or law for work, school, or business. “Pay attention to the bolded definition of Day.  That’s what today‘s story is all about.”

“My Day and Your Day Are Two Different Days“

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Marissa couldn’t believe it.  Here she was, driving home from school in her hand-me-down blue Honda down the main street that went through her small, country town not even five minutes from home under a bright, yet cloudy Friday sky… and it started to rain.  And then it wasn’t just raining.  ‘Oh no,’ she thought, ‘That would have been too kind.‘  It started coming down in torrents as immense dark clouds quickly traveled across the sky making 6pm look like ten o’clock at night.  The cats and dogs had turned into tigers and wolves in the span of two minutes, and that was without exaggeration.

“Only in Georgia,” she muttered to herself as she dramatically reduced her speed to a whopping twenty miles per hour and turned her windshield wipers on to full power.  As she trudged through the rapidly flooding streets, squinting her dark blue eyes to see ten feet in front of her, she noticed that there was a red light in her near future and that a small dark colored Ford pickup truck was already idling.  She eased her foot on to the brake pedal in order to start slowing down, but nothing happened.  Her eyebrows narrowing in confusion, she pushed down a little harder, hoping to gain some traction between her brakes and her tires, but to no avail her car would not slow down.  Hey eyes widened in fear and realization.

She was hydroplaning.

“Oh crap, crap, crappity crap!”  She exclaimed, as she began to panic.  She kept mashing on her brakes, the training she gained from driving school flying out the window.  Looking up through the dense haze of rain, she saw the fate of her car pass before her eyes.  “I am so sorry, baby,” she lamented to her car as she cringed and shut her eyes before the impact of the collision jarred her.  A muffled groan leaked between her lips as the airbag exploded in her face.  Huffuing as she pushed it out of her way, she wiggled out of the car… and into the outpour of rain.  She’d completely forgotten about the cause of her torment.

“UGH!!!”  She yelled to the sky as the rain soaked through her aquamarine polo and dark blue jeans.  Her dark mahogany hair clung to her cheeks and neck, and she ran her fingers through it to get the wet locks out of her face.

“Um, ma’am?”  Marissa looked up to see a young guy walking from the pickup truck towards her.  Taking in his dripping blond curls that hung limply from a ponytail at the nape of his neck, his sharp green eyes hidden behind rimmed spectacles, and his lanky body clad in a dark button down and simple blue jeans, Marissa, in any other circumstance would have hit on him in a minute… but this wasn’t any other circumstance, and now wasn’t the time to ask a guy for his phone number right after rear ending him.  At least that’s what she had to keep reminding herself.

“Look, I am sooo sorry for hitting you.  My car, it was-”

“Miss,” the owner of the pickup truck interrupted in a South Georgia twang, “it’s perfectly alright.  I’m surprised you saw me in this kind of weather.  Let’s just look at the damage done, and get you dry, alright?”

Marissa smiled demurely as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, blushing slightly at the unusual politeness.  “Alright…”

The two walked around to the collision slight where Marissa’s shyness quickly turned into a raging flame of anger.  “YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FREAKING KIDDING ME!!!”  Looking at the two cars, you could automatically tell which one lost the fight.  Marissa’s Honda, ‘No, vehicular accordian is more like it, she thought to herself,  looked like it ran into a titanium wall, repeatedly.  The Ford looked like someone had scraped it with a set of keys.

“What the heck?  There’s barely a scratch on it!”

Mr. Chivalry shrugged and had the audacity to look sheepish as he replied, “Built Ford tough?”

Marissa merely shot a look at him as she let out a groan.  “What the heck happened?  I mean,  how did this…”  She trailed off as she got a good look at the back of the truck and saw exactly what happened.  The back of his pickup had a trailer hitch on it.  When her car hit his truck, the hitch completely damaged the front of her car.  “Well this is just perfect!  I have things to do tomorrow!  How can I get them done without a freaking car?”

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind… I could fix it for ya.”

Marissa’s eyes cut to him.  “You fix cars.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And you could fix this?”

“If we can get it to my place tonight, I can have it fixed for you before church on Sunday morning.”

Marissa’s eyes widened as she looked from him back to the car.  “Are you serious?  That’s it?”  She jumped up and down clapping her hands like a school girl getting a gold star.  “This is great!  OMG, this is awesome!”  She ran over and hugged him, her sudden excitement startling him into opening his arms for the assault.  “You are the best, the absolute best.  You are so awesome.  Who are you?”

Laughing, Mr. Chivalry replied, “My name’s Jesse.  And yours?”

“I’m Marissa,” she answered as she held out her hand for a shake.  Taking her hand, he shook it and then raised it to his lips for a quick brush on the knuckles.

“It’s mighty nice to meet you, Miss Marissa, considering the circumstances of course.  You ready to follow me?”  He started moving to his car, leaving Marissa to stand there and stare with a love-sick expression on her face.

“I’d follow you anywhere,” she murmured to herself as she took a few seconds to watch the way the rain caused his jeans to mold to an amazing part of his anatomy before getting into her own car to have him follow her home.  He may be cute, but she wasn’t about to let him take her to his place… yet.

_______________________________________________

“So… he’s cute?”

Marissa rolled her eyes as she settled herself into the passenger seat of her best friend’s dark purple Mazda Miata.  Buckling her seat belt, she replied, “Yes.”

Lexi, seeing that her friend wasn’t going to be completely forthcoming with information, asked, “And his name is?”

“C’mon, Lexi.”

After Marissa lasped into silence again, Lexi huffed out a breath and banged her fists against her steering wheel.  Pushing her wavy black hair behind her ears in annoyance, she turned hazel eyes on her best friend.  “Well, jeez, Riss!  Aren’t you just a fountain of info!  I call you yesterday to see after your welfare knowing that you were driving in the middle of a potential hurricane and all you tell me is that you are with some guy and that you’d call me later.  And then I don’t even hear from you for like twenty hours!  Do you know how worried I was?  All I could think is that this guy turned out to be some stalker guy, and that you were getting hacked to pieces and-”

“Okay, okay!”  Marissa laughed out.  She and Lexi had been friends since the sixth grade and she knew that Lexi could continue her ramble for another hour.  “I’m sorry.  It’s just… after all the crap that happened yesterday with the ten minute storm and the accident, I just needed time to unwind.  And Jesse was a welcome distraction.  We talked for hours last night until he took me home.”

Lexi nodded and was quiet as she put the car in drive, pulled out of Marissa’s driveway and contemplated what her best friend just told her.  “So… his name’s Jesse?”

“Ugh, Lexi!  Can you stop thinking about that for a half a second!  I was in an accident yesterday!”

“I know, I know.  Believe me, if that wasn’t your excuse, I would not have been picking you up at 9am on a Saturday morning.”

“Thanks, Bestie!”  Marissa replied sarcastically as she whipped out her list.  “Since you’ve so graciously allowed yourself to be at my beck and call, you wouldn’t mind taking me all over the place so that I can run my errands-”

Lexi braked in the middle of the street, the car traveling carelessly on her bumper honking as it swerved from what was sure to be a collision.  “Whoa now, honey child.  You said that all you needed was one thing.  One thing was all I signed up for!”

Marissa smiled as she replied, “Well, since you’re up and everything…”

“Where’s that blasted Enterprise again?  We’re getting you a car.”

_______________________________________________

“I see that you are interested in the 2007 silver Toyota Yaris.”

Marissa looked up from inspecting the car to the man that approached her.  From what she could see, he was the stereotypical car sales man: greasy black hair slicked back, smarmy brown eyes that lingered on an area below her face, and a lanky body framed in beige and silver suit.  Inwardly she rolled her eyes as the word, ‘Great,‘ echoed in her head.  Seeing the name Mark on the nametag, she turned on her charming smile and said, “I sure am, Mark.  And I’d love to take it out for the day.”

Mark, his eyes trailing up and down Marissa’s body, began to tell Marissa about the standard pricing, but she cut him off.  “Look I really don’t care about all of that; my insurance company is paying.  I just want to know this: if I get it now and bring it back this same time tomorrow, is that considered one day?”

Mark, who was still looking at Marissa’s “assets”, nodded in affirmation, “Yeah, yeah… one day.”

“No,” Marissa replied as she took his chin and lifted it so that they were eye level, “I don’t think you heard me.”

Mark nodded adamantly, “Yes!  I did; one day is considered a 24-hour period.”

“Okay!” Marissa exclaimed.  “I’ll take it.”

_______________________________________________

Marissa felt good.  Better yet,  she felt accomplished.  Everything that was on her list of things to do, she did.  Things that she’d forgotten to write on her list, they were completed.  Things that her mom asked her to do randomly every other hour, she actually got to.  And now, she was going to enjoy the company of a cute guy.  ‘Life is good,’ she thought to herself as she used the brass knocker on the bright red door.

The door opened to a shirtless, black jeans-hip-hugging, sexy-smelling Jesse who was towel drying his naturally curly blond locks.  “Hey, Marissa.  Sorry bout this; I just got home and did a quick run through of the shower.”

“Oh don’t worry,”  Marissa placated, her eyes drinking in the sight before her, “the view is… picturesque…”

Chuckling, he led her into his small one bedroom home.  It wasn’t a big house, but was small enough to be considered cozy.  It was also the ultimate bachelor pad with big stuffed couches that looked to come from different yard sales and a state of the art entertainment system.  As he walked down the hall, he pulled a red shirt off of the back of a chair and pulled it over his broad shoulders.  “I’m ready to go if you are.”

“Lead the way!”  Marissa exclaimed as she walked back towards the door.

As he locked up behind himself, Jesse caught a glimpse of the silver Yaris.

“Please do not tell me that is the car you rented.”

Marissa’s back immediately straightened.  “Of course it is.  What’s wrong with it?”

“Well… it’s a Yaris.”

“So?”

“Who drives a car called a Yaris?”

“When it’s the cheapest thing they have on the lot, I do.”

“Ah… would… would you have chosen it other wise?”

“Heck no.”

Jesse held out his hand.  “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Marissa smiled.  “Doesn’t take much to please you does it?”  She asked as she placed her hand in his own.

_______________Two Weeks Later_________________

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Marissa looked over to Jesse who was lounging on her couch.  After two weeks of dating, the two had proven to be inseparable.  Chilling in her small apartment, the two were waiting for some friends to go to lunch Waving around a piece of paper that she’d just torn out of an envelope, she replied, “My insurance rate went up!  Because of that stupid accident!”

Jesse’s face drooped.  “You think the accident was stupid?  It was how we met…”

“Jesse,” she said, rolling her eyes as he began to laugh, “I’m serious!  The insurance company said that the accident wouldn’t raise my rate considering the circumstances and because I am already in good standing with them.  I don’t get it!”

Jesse, seeing that she was being completely serious and was actually starting to get upset, sat forward and pulled her down to sit on his lap.  Giving her a tight squeeze he said softly, “I’m sorry, honey.  Why don’t you call them and see why it went up?  I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding.  Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,”  Marissa replied as she let out a sniffle.  “I’m pissed.  I know exactly why it went up.”

***Two Hours Later***

“Ma’am, I don’t think I understand the question.”

“It’s pretty simple,” Marissa remarked.  “What does “day” mean?”

“Um…” The woman at the counter looked around at her coworkers, her eyes pleading for help, but they all kept to themselves not wanting to receive the wrath from the crazy woman at her counter.  “A day is… a 24 hour period?”

Marissa slammed her hands down on the counter.  “Exactly.  That is exactly what a day is.  That’s exactly what your insipid coworker Mark told me yesterday when I rented a car.  I asked him what the cut off time for a day was and he told me a twenty-four period is considered a day.  So why did my insurance company up my rates due to the fact that you guys charged them for two days?”

“Well, ma’am, our rental rates are based on a calendar day, not the connotative definition of day, which is very commonly mistaken in our business and-”

Marissa huffed out a breath and held up her hand.  “Stop talking.  I get it.  I’m just saying.  My insurance rates are going up because I was mislead.  You need to have some kind of seminar or something for your employees because Mark obviously hasn’t gotten the memo.  Thank you for your time.  Oh, and you’re company will be paying the difference in my rates; you can bet on that.”  And with that, Marissa slammed out of the rental car agency, leaving behind a befuddled saleswoman.

“Thank you for your time, ma’am,” she mumbled to herself.  Then the general manager turned around, an angry look crossing her features. 

“MARK!!!”

_____________________END_______________________

So guys, what did you think?  Do you agree with the definition of day, or do you have your own thoughts?  Be sure to leave a comment and let me know!

~SmrtChka

Atrocious (adj.): extremely wicked, brutal, or crude; utterly revolting.  “I cannot believe that she thought she could get away with spelling that in such an atrocious manner.”

And atrociously she did.  Today’s word of the day is brought to you by a very close friend of mine… for the sake of the continuance of this blog (because i probably wouldn’t be living), we shall not call her by her name, but she is henceforth dubbed Ms. Bennet.

Now, Ms. Bennet has been my friend for more than five years, and honestly, in order to be my friend for that long, I must respect your intelligence at a very high degree.  Ms. Bennet and I are writing buddies; we are always concocting the most random stories together whether via email or chat box (it is actually very fun to do!).  I hold her in such high esteem when it comes to the wonders of grammar and the powers of punctuation that I hold myself back on commenting on her… questionable darkness.  So the fact that she was willing to… atrociously botch the spelling of a word really hurt me to the quick.

What word did she spell with such atrociousness that I have to constantly repeat how atrocious it was?  Why… it was ATROCIOUS!  (I know, I know… you were so expecting that.  I never promised that I was unpredictable…).

The date?  September 5, 2010.  The time?  Two in the freaking morning.  The place?  Gmail© Chat.

I was suffering the bout of insomnia that always hits when I go to my older sister‘s house for the weekend (she has internet… I don’t… you do the math).  The house was quiet because all the sane people were already in bed.  I was actually sitting in the dining room in the process of setting up this very blog page while chatting with Ms. Bennet.  We were just talking about random things when she posted, ““The World’s number one best selling crime writer”/That statement was in a commercial for a writer’s book /   What. The. Fruck?“

Now I will admit that it took me a minute to figure out what was wrong with the commercial.  I was actually stuck on the fact that she said “What the fruck?“  Then I read it outloud and returned, “… What?“

“You get the redundancy of this statement, yes?“  (I told her a little later that she’s been taking to many foreign languages…)

“Yes… / Why do you need to say the ‘World’s Number One Best Selling’…“

“Exactly.  I would be ashamed if I was a writer and that was put out with my name on it.  /  God, Mrs. K would kill me.” (Yeah, I did the whole name change thing…)

Now let me explain Mrs. K.  Mrs. K was an English teacher that Ms. Bennet and I shared in high school, and when I say that this woman was the Supreme Beyotch of the World of English, I have countless students who would back me up.  There was this one time… well, I’ll probably use that for another word…  Anyway, Mrs. K‘s first husband was a sniper in the CIA (she used to tell us that if she had to read another bad paper, she had a really good relationship with her ex-husband…), and this fact brought on, “She would get her ex-husband to come snipe you.“

I could all but hear Ms. Bennet‘s high pitched laughter as she typed, “At least it would be a quick and painless death.“  I quickly pointed out that it wouldn’t be if it was a gut shot.

Then she said, “D***. /   And that’s something Mrs. K would do. /   Just to make up for the feeling in her gut due to the autrocious grammar.“

At this point, my head tilted to the side in confusion.  I actually waited for the standard correction that always comes after Ms. Bennet makes a mistake.  I know she saw the fact that there was an unnecessary “u” in the word “autrocious”.

I replied, “*atrocious“

“>.> /  That word should have two u’s in it.“

At this point, my jaw was dropped.  ‘What?!  How could she possibly think that? Why would she possibly think that?’ I thought to myself.  I even went so far as to ask, “… Why?“

Her response?  “Because it sounds like it should have two u’s in it … And in French ‘au’ makes the ‘oo’ sound in the beginning of that word.“

WHAT?!?!?!

I know!!!!  That was my reaction, too.  Her reasoning doesn’t even make sense!!!  It was utterly… atrocious!  I won’t even go into the ending of that conversation, because that is where it ended. 

Now, you are probably thinking, “Is she serious?  She just blogged about someone spelling a word incorrectly?”  To which I indignantly scream, “YES!  YES I DID!”  But you know, now I’m going to ask your opinion.  Am I, as an elevated intellectual, reacting way to harshly to a misdemeanor?  Leave a comment and tell me what you think!  And if you don’t, atrocious things will happen to you all week!!!

~SmrtChka