Algunas veces, no se me ocurre que no sé una palabra en #español. Puedo estar platicando con alguien y tengo que parar y pensar en lo que quiero decir.
Una vez, estaba leyendo un libro a una clase de segundo grado. Era un libro de no ficción sobre animales #bioluminiscentes. Discutimos diferentes tipos de animals y empecé con la pagína con…–vuelan cuando empieza a oscurecer…estos..puedes ver las lucecitas volando. Son #fireflies en inglés–les expliqué
–¡Sí maestra, son fireflies!–
–Pero ¿comó se dice en español?–
Otra maestra, confundida como yo, empezó a buscar la palabra.
–Ahh, luciérnaga!
Todos empezaron decir la palabra.
–Luciérnaga, luciérnaga, luciérnaga!–
Continuamos con el libro. Siempre tengo momentos cuando no sé lo que no sé.
How Do You Say #firefly?
Sometimes it doesn’t occur to me that I don’t know a word in #Spanish. I can be speaking with someone until I have to stop and think about what I want to say.
Once, I was reading aloud to a second grade class. It was a nonfiction book about bioluminescent animals. We discussed different types of animals and I started with a page about “…they fly when it starts to get dark…they…you can see little lights flying. They’re #fireflies in English,” I explained.
“Yes, teacher, they’re fireflies!”
Another teacher, just as confused as me, began looking up the word.
“Ahh, luciérnaga!”
Everyone started chanting the word.
“Luciérnaga, luciérnaga, luciérnaga!”
We continued with the book. I always have moments where I don’t know what I don’t know.
My soon to be #sweetsixteener hit me up for a #birthday gift. Three months ahead of time. Important items of discussion typically happen at the #lastpossibleminute, but here we are. On the bright side, her skills are improving-ish? Not only does she ask me three months and a week in advance, she does so during my afternoon walk. Via #text. Can Novio Boy tag along? Oh, and it’s in San Antonio. #minordetails
The door hasn’t even shut behind me when I walk in and she #hollers “Ma-a-a-h-m…did you get my message?” She emerges at the top of the stairs. Then she hops down. Must be important.
“Okay, #hearmeout…”
I stop and let her flow.
“…there’s this concert, you’ll hate the music, but maybe not?”
My questions addressing all of the things she hasn’t considered, never mind she described it as a midwestern emo band (what is that?), are rising to the top and bubbling. I have to turn down the heat so they don’t spill over.
Tickets are cheap. #redflag. They’ll hit you with #fees. It’s at 9:00 in the morning. #weird and #anotherreadflag. Can Novio Boy come along? #redflagandsirens. It’s at a place called Paper Tiger.
I look it up. It looks like a #divebar #ohhellno
I don’t say yes. I don’t say no. #researchmode. I can’t find it on the ticket apps I use.
“But I got the link to buy tickets on #spotify!” her two-year-old self peeks out for a few seconds before she stuffs her back deep inside.
“Hold on, I’m looking.” Dallas, Houston, L.A. …”Oh, I see, there’s the fine print, TBA, so even if it says 9:00 a.m, they may still be in the planning stages. Listen. This isn’t a big venue. If it was at the Alamodome, it would be different. I have to check out this Paper Tiger place. It sounds like a bar near St. Mary’s campus. If it’s a bar, you have to be over 21 to get in.”
“But how is it that I can buy a ticket if…”
“The same way you opened up your Instagram and Snapchat accounts that you aren’t supposed to have. Guaranteed, if it’s a bar, they’ll check your ID to get in.”
“But even if I have tickets?”
“Chica, you first have to be 21. Give me time to check it out. Have you looked at the venue?”
“What’s that?”
#sigh
It appears minors must be accompanied by an adult. There is a bar #yayme It’s small and frequently hosts live bands. Reviews are positive. I know nothing about the band. #lighbulbmoment
My #livemusicguru friend! I send her a message asking about the venue. Yes, she has been there and enjoyed it. Yes, it’s safe for teens, but it’s best to go with her. There are restaurants and other bars within walking distance.
“Can I pay you to take her?”
“Lol! If it’s a band I like I’ll go with you.”
It’s still a little early and I’m not ready to purchase tickets. There may be a music festival going on which explains the 9:00 a.m. show. I feel #awkward tagging along, but I also don’t want to leave her there without being on the premises. I promise I’ll hide in the back somewhere.
Why is it that an adult can take their kids to most places, but if teens take parents, are they #weirdos or do they have #coolparents?
I struggle with staying off my phone. #everything lives there. I’m not the #techie type, but it has gradually choked out all resistance I once had to keeping up with the times (and #Joneses). Every Sunday, my screen time notification lets me know how much of my life bled into #cyberspace.
This week will be different. It won’t be the ghastly #imnotsaying hours it is every week. Nopity, nope. It will be less. I’m cutting it in half. People say researchers say setting your phone to #grayscale will significantly reduce the amount of time you spend on your phone.
#bluelight #screenaddiction #doomscrolling all of the things will improve. So they say. I had to look up directions, because, you know, the #reel I watched went too fast and there I am, taking another #screenshot to add just one more photo to my 10,000+ collection I carry around every day. How much would that weigh in actual #photos?
Is it the #placeboeffect? I have reduced my time, although not by half. It’s about a third. What I have noticed is I #cantfindanything. My apps are organized just so…by #color. I have slowed my scroll because I have to read my screen. (Funny how I’m always telling the kids “Slow your scroll and #readyourscreen!”)
My bank account is a little happier, but Amazon is not. I’m not clicking on useless items to bulk up my #shoppingcart. I’ve taken less screenshots because I’m not scrolling as much. My messages may be a bit off since I’m struggling to find the right #emoji 😃
I do turn it on for a few minutes, especially if I’m getting (more) photos from family members, but overall, I switch it back. It’s #cumbersome to toggle back and forth and I’m not creating a shortcut. Also, it isn’t hurting my eyes. Well, my eyes don’t necessarily hurt, but it isn’t as jarring.
How long will I maintain this? Who knows. I’m curious to see how much of a difference it makes. I can go on with my life #inlivingcolor.
This week, I’m writing in #hashtags. A #postitnote I scrawled on last week led to yesterday’s tip of the day which made me think about how we use them.
Are there #grammarrules? What would #strunkandwhite say about them? Is there a space between a hashtag phrase #likethisone or is it only attached to the #word it connects? If you need #punctuation, (like this comma next door) do you attach it or skip it? So, the boldfaced sentence I just wrote would look like this if I skip it:
If you need #punctuation (like this comma next door) do you attach it or skip it?
But now it #doesntmakesense above because I took out the comma.
Oh, hmmm, what do you do with #contractions? Do you use them or skip them as in the previous #singlesentenceparagraph or #singlesentenceparagraph?
#doesntmakesense
#doesn’tmakesense
#doesnt #make #sense
#doesn’t #make #sense
Perhaps this is a great time to understand and observe how #grammarrules are made and why they exist. Are we now the future #old #cranky people who invented these #dumbrules? Don’t even get me started on #citations…
Way back in my #college days, there was a sub shop, or was it a pizza place? Taco joint? Anyhow, this place advertised #twofer Tuesday and you’d get two for the price of one. I figured since it’s #SOL Tuesday and March SOL #challenge, I’d write two posts. As if this challenge isn’t enough.
Here’s to post #1, my introduction to making myself squirm in my writing seat a little (#alot) more than usual.
#funny how #writing happens. #solchallenge has ideas swirling in the universe. they were bound to #collide with mine. i moved a #postitnote to one side of my desk this afternoon. last week, i #jotted a #sol draft using #hashtags! in full form, i left it at work and #cantremember anything that was on it.
It's 8:45 a.m. 7:45 for my body as if getting rushed through the weekend door pushed through it isn't enough this time thing had to happen today last night my body lives in two time zones I get to wrestle with for a week even though we already know which one wins hello, spring where's the snooze button?
About first loves, her middle school self "She's so cute but needs a big booty, a big booty-licious butt!" Endless ribbons, all colors and textures resemble tangled spaghetti at one end of the table buttons fill a small Mason jar nearby today was meant for cleaning messes not making them, but crafting wins–at least she's off her phone "The first person you date isn't necessarily the one you love..." "Umm...hmm.." I've learned to nod in agreement Listen No need to comment No need to disagree Just listen, while draft ideas struggle to be written She's quiet now, concentrating on re-stuffing a critter she's making from unworn socks The washing machine whirrs through it's Saturday load of laundry Why must weekends skip through time in such a hurry? She stitches the project closed, the one with the big, booty-licious butt "Our school has a confessions page..." "There's this influncer..." Laundry needs drying We save daylight later tonight but didn't the day just begin? She sews I draft She's talking again
I don’t remember learning how to read. I also don’t remember anyone reading to me at home. My first book. Finishing a book. I know someone read to me though, probably my mom. I had books around me from early on.
I do remember tracing my finger over lower case and upper case glitter letters, one letter per workbook. Aa Apple. The letters on the cover were dusted with red glitter. Each day before we opened it, we traced. Inside the pages we practiced writing each letter, matched letters to pictures and whatever else is blurred in my mind. When we finished the book, we took it home and started the next one. Bb Ball.
I do remember meeting with our teacher in groups. Reading about running and dogs and a kid named Jack. Easy words like tip and tap and hat and bat. Certificates with scented stickers awarded milestones, whatever they may have been.
I do remember listening to Mrs. Jones read Charlotte’s Web in second grade. She cried at the end. What did I read? I don’t recall anything, except for the book I received the last day of school for perfect attendance. The Ghost of Windy Hill. My own book to keep forever and read over summer break. I went home, finished it, and figured out the mystery before the story ended.
I do remember reading Little House on the Prairie (all of them), Beverly Cleary’s Ramona books, Encyclopedia Brown,Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, nonfiction books about Amelia Earhart and Annie Oakley. Since then, I’ve been known to be the one who is always reading.
I can’t imaging not knowing how to read. Since I can remember (or not), I’ve read whatever came my way. Cereal boxes, junk mail, JC Penney catalogs, magazines, books, dictionaries, the phone book…
Nerds Beget Nerds 