Okay, can I just talk for a second about the fact that I just discovered the other day that I have been using the phrase “for all intensive purposes” completely in ERROR and with EXTREME FREQUENCY for god knows how long, thinking that I am being eloquent and well spoken when in fact I am making myself look like a fucking jackass to anyone who knows that the CORRECT phrase is “for all intents and purposes.” How did I not fucking know that?
And more importantly, why didn’t anyone TELL ME?! Because we all know that if YOU were using a common phrase improperly, there is a large chance that I would correct you. Not because I’m trying to be a snooty bitch, but because if I were doing something wrong, I would want someone to tell me, so I try to extend the same courtesy to others. And also maybe because I’m a little bit of a snooty bitch, but only a LITTLE BIT.
When I learned that a phrase that I use often is the uneducated man’s bastardization of a phrase that dates back to like medieval times or something, I proceeded to get lost on Wikipedia reading about malapropisms and eggcorns and other linguistic shits that most normal people who aren’t humongous geeks like I am could care less about. Or is it “couldn’t care less about”? Shit.
Now I’m overanalyzing every cliche and idiom I use, wondering how many other malapropisms I’ve adopted into my daily usage because of my habit of being unnecessarily wordy. The thing is, though, that I wish that people just knew that I’m not wordy because I’m trying to sound smart or be condescending, but because I just love words. There’s something strangely intoxicating to me about the act of stringing certain words together, especially when it creates fluidity and comes with ease, which is why I often use words or phrases incorrectly or speak with bad grammar even though I know it’s bad. That, and also the fact that I have a problem with word vomit, where things just fly out of my mouth before my brain has any chance to filter them whatsoever.
The word vomit has gotten me in trouble more times than I can count, and goes hand in hand with what most people acknowledge is my signature personality trait, which is that I’m honest to a fault. My friends usually tell me that they appreciate my honesty, but I know they also think that my ranting and raving makes me sound like a jackass sometimes, which is fine, because sometimes, I am a jackass.
It’s like in Easy A, when she’s playing “seven minutes in heaven” with that boy, and he’s like, “How do you add numbers so fast, and you talk like a grownup, wowwww,” and she’s like, “It’s okay, I’m not nearly as smart as I think I am.” Yeah, that’s me. I know I’m not really that smart. I also know that people think that I think I’m so fucking smart, and I wish that from time to time people would just call me out on my know-it-all bullshit. Not in a mean way, but just like, a simple “hey, did you know that it’s actually INTENTS and PURPOSES and not INTENSIVE purposes?” or “hey, did you notice that on your latest blog entry you wrote ‘someday’ in the title instead of ‘somebody’?” or “hey by the way, it’s Maker’s Mark and not Maker’s Mart.”
Honesty can be problematic, but in the end, being truthful is the only way to get where you want to be.