page 12

by beginningstoendings

Estelle is on the phone, wanting or rather nagging me to join her in doing something “crazy” downtown.  I remind her that I’m not “crazy”, but she’s being fucking persistent.  We have that kind of relationship that remains perpetually in that sticky limbo between friend and acquaintance.  If we never saw each other again neither of us would likely miss the other but, since we knew each other before moving to Vancouver, we remain in contact and have sort of accepted the fact that we have nothing to really talk about.  At least I have nothing to talk about.  Estelle is never at a loss for words.

“For real girl, you need to get the hell out of your little apartment and shake your sillies out.”

My “sillies?”  She actually referenced my “sillies.”  Her God awful vocabulary allows me to feel superior to her.  Dear Diary, Estelle said “sillies” today, something about shaking them out, must not invite her to tea further hence.  P.S: calling one’s friend “girl” is lowbrow and insulting.

“Actually Estelle, I’m not really in the mood for any sort of partying.  I haven’t even begun to think of this…”

“Oh God, Katie.  This straight edging you’ve been up to is fucking me right in my ear.”

I have no clue what she’s just said.  It’s definitely rude that’s certain, but not quite offensive I don’t think.  It has reminded me though that Estelle threw out the idea of being ladylike a long time ago—residual embarrassment over her private school education maybe.  She’s rebelling, and has been since I met her. She rebels only enough to make her seem interesting to her friends but not enough to sever the financial tie she maintains with her parents.   She’s smart that way.  Good for her I guess.  Estelle’s phrases and words definitely couldn’t be considered straight English but more of a purposefully designed, upper-crust slang that has been influenced (and I don’t know how this happened) by Ebonics.  She’ll say anything to sound edgy and to come across cynical and “over it” and this is where most of her bizarre expressions stem from.  You’re left trudging your way through a sewer of country-club vernacular that’s been buggered by abbreviations and curses.  I found trying to learn German was less difficult.