Virginia and the Bee

So at pub trivia last night (where we thought ourselves to be the dumbest clods in Seattle, only to discover that we had tied for sixth place among 22 teams), I heard of the most amazing activity ever for my obsessive-compulsive mind, second only to editing Wikipedia entries, or perhaps to obtaining free writing instruments. And what is that amazing activity, you ask?

HIPSTER PUB SPELLING BEES. YEAH, baby. I mean, I used to rock out at spelling bees. In seventh grade I was the winner at our school, and this annoying kid Ryan was the runner-up, and I forgot the bee was on X day and wound up staying home sick from school that day (probably faking it, knowing me) and missing it, and of course Ryan went on in my place to regionals or whatever and fucked it up nicely.

Anyway. What’s past is past; let’s not dwell. But now – spelling AND beer? Amongst adults, instead of the cruel mockery of middle-schoolers who shun the nerds and spellophiliacs? (I was both, most likely). AWESOME. I am totally going to spell it up. And I don’t think I’m even all that great of a speller anymore – most of the time it seems like my vocabularly has, if anything, declined since my glory days of preteen awkwardness. I’m blaming it on having had to make room for linguistic terminology and foreign language vocabularies and verb paradigms and such, but really, I think it can be better attributed to alcohol consumption combined with never reading the news. Also Craigslist. What I’m saying is, there are many factors. But still – spell I will, even if for five words only, and drunk. It’ll still be a good time. Besides, maybe they’ll incorporate new words like “Craigslist” and “asshat” and “Wikipedia” and “truthiness”. If they do, I’m solid.


  1. You realize that we’re going to be the last two people up against the wall. I’m going to win with “pulchritudinous”.

    I, too, was a spelling bee champion when I was a littler G. Math bee, too. But neither of those can compare to my finest hour in second grade:

    Third place in the wiffleball throw.

    My mother still has the “ribbon”. Orange construction paper, it is.

    True story.

  2. I’m really good at spelling “Douchebag” now whereas I probably was not before. I’m rooting for you, I wish I could play.

    I’m first place at badminton at my house. That’s something.

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