Don’t you love learning new vocabulary words? You then get to use them three times the next week in important conversations, fights with AT&T customer service reps, and Scrabble games, and you just can’t believe how you lived so many years without knowing that awesome word. It’s like discovering wafflecones or your G-spot for the first time.
It makes life worth living knowing that stunning and wonderful things are just all around us around, waiting to be found!
Except that the older you get the fewer new bit-o-experiences come along, so on most days you are pretty much left with just discoveringwords and mapping new skin tags to be zapped. So, yay words!
I learned a new word and taught a new word at a party this weekend, though this one is just making me feel confused and alone at the lunchtable, and I don’t want any part of it.
So at the party I admired a stunning sterling silver charm worn on a choker-length leather cord. It was about the size of a half-dollar, in an intricate hieroglyphic shape, kind of like a Georgia P on top of a Helvetica W turned inside out. Other than the pendant, the man was otherwise non-descript.
Me: Cool pendant.
Him: It’s my personal sigil.
Me: Sid gel?
Me: I’m not familiar with that word. Is it like a symbol?
(He blinks slowly like and ocelot, and looks incredibly disappointed in my lack of a sigiliary vocabulary. )
Him: S. I. G. I. L. Sigil. I designed it and cast it with powerful full-force intent. Please don’t stare at it, I don’t want it to harm you.
Me: What do you mean “harm me?” Like a spell or something? Voodoo?
Him: Not voodoo. I really don’t want to explain it.
Me: You are wearing a necklace that attracts attention but can harm me if I look at it and it’s called a sigil but you don’t want to talk about it?
Me: Hmmm. Excuse me, I was kinda headed inside. I hear there’s a chocolate fountain.
So then I try to forget the nasty encounter with the SIGIL and I bump into a friend. Party comfort! We end up talking about her nasty break-up, where her ex revealed on the way out of the door that they had been engaging in a certain sexual practice for years that he really didn’t enjoy at all. Not that he was judging her performance, he just wanted her to know that he didn’t like that act in general.
Me: See, I didn’t know there actually were men who didn’t like that. Are you sure he’s being real about this? Maybe that was some kind of weird slam? “You think you know me? I don’t even LIKE pudding, so there!”
Her: I know, but actually, when I look back, it kind of makes sense. My therapist says it’s a big myth that every man loves it, and it seems he thought he was making me feel sexy, and he believed me when I said I loved doing it. He was going along with it, thinking he was doing it for me! That’s how lousy his communication skills were.
Me: Huh. Bet you wish you had those nights back.
Her: You got that right. Good riddance.
Me: If your sex life was an Abilene Paradox, who knows what else was up with him? Are you sure he really liked cupcakes? Hey, do you think he secretly is ambivalent about his Well Craft? Because I might be in the market.
Her: What do you mean, Abilene Paradox?
Me: That’s what that type of communication problem is called. A group of people on a hot, miserable car ride to Abilene, each pretending to be happy about it, thinking that everyone else wants to go Abilene, when truthfully no one is happy and they are just humoring each other. That’s an Abilene Paradox.
Her: That’s exactly what it was, a miserable car ride to Abilene. Maybe that’s what that country song means? All my exes live in Abilene, Texas.
Me: Is that a map to Abilene in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?
Her: Seriously, no good can come from driving across Texas.
Me: Texas is the zipper on Satan’s parachute pants.
Her: If I start dating again, trust me, I’ll be looking for all kinds of signs.
Me: Oh, God, just don’t look directly at his sigil.
Her: The last thing I need is a guy with a sigil.
Me: Wait, you know what a sigil is? What is it?
Her: You know, that manifest thought thing. Kind of complicated.
Me: Well, I taught you the Abilene Paradox. Fill me in.
Her: Let’s get something to eat. I heard there’s a chocolate fountain.
So apparently everyone knows what the mysterious sigil thing is, and apparently it’s a conspiracy against me (AS MOST THINGS ARE) and I feel like I’m watching Mulholland Drivefor the first time and everyone else but me understands why tiny old people are line-dancing in a sandwich bag. Whatever.
It least it’s a great ‘S” hinge word to use to build off of another word in Scrabble. No, never mind, not many points, and why part with an I and a G when you could get an N and score with a nice long -ing word. Sigil is useless in Scrabble. Maybe it will come up in a crossword?
Not that it matters to you. You probably already knew sigil, anyway, didn’t you? Whatever. Can you take it off my hands anyway? Sigil is stressing me out. Just toss it in that bowl on your microwave with the unused USB drives and mechanical pencils needing specialty leads. You know, in case you need it some day.
Speaking of words with friends, that photo is from a carwash in my town. I drive by it almost everyday, but noticed for the first time Friday night that they host an Interior Fragrance kiosk. Wonders abound, if I’ll only slow down to notice them.