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  • Writer's pictureChoo Choo

Compla[int]cency


At what point did girls in my generation begin to talk, almost exclusively, like Shoshanna from Girls? Even if you don’t watch the show, you know what I’m talking about. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, imagine you’re about to giggle. Now keep your voice at that same falsetto pitch and start speaking, eschewing all declarative statements while your tone lilts upward at the end of every phrase, a never-ending question punctuated with “like” and “so” and “so, like,” .

This is what I am currently being subjected to as I hurtle through the air in a half-empty Southwest aircraft on my way back to Baltimore. Unfortunately, the girls so,like-ing in the row ahead of me aren’t nearly as brilliant and hilarious as Zosia Mamet’s satirical Shoshanna.

By no means do I mean to exempt myself from this epidemic. I have been known to lapse into similar aurally grating rhythmic and tonal patterns, and if you observe me doing it in the future, you have my permission to publicly chastise. I realize that changes over time in dialect and speech patterns are natural and unavoidable, but if this is the path in which we’re headed I want no part in it.

I also realize that I am too young to be complaining about the transgressions of today’s youth. I submit that “crotchety” is a state of mind and has nothing to do with one’s age.

Let’s end on an uplifting note. Things are great. I am doing what I’ve always wanted to do, and I’m getting paid to do it. I can make my own schedule. I get at least eight or nine hours of sleep every night, and sometimes--nay, often--more. I have the best friends and family ever. I get to come home to an awesome guy and two cats with unnervingly canine personalities.

Spring is finally starting to peek through the freak winter storms of the past week, and with spring comes long jogs, fastidious house-cleaning, and lemon bars.

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