I check my google alerts again. Nothing. Nothing since midnight. Now it is 5:05 a.m. It appears that no-one is autistic today but maybe someone is a little obsessive compulsive? [translation = hamster in wheel] I review the previous evenings errors, so that I may learn from my mistakes and continue up the learning curve. [translation – very steep ladder with rickety rungs and far too many splinters]
I had the brilliant idea of lecturing them whilst they were held captive in the car. Dark, not too many distractions. No choice but to concentrate on my message. I had carefully planned my message, so as to ensure that there were no unexpected pitfalls. Pitfalls are many and various, but there are a few key words that should be avoided, as they provoke angst and meltdowns; death / dying / old / a broad category of food items / the wasteland of references to time. I avoid these traps and am wary of other potential hazards that will derail the message.
To make the message more palatable, [translation = user friendly] I had the brilliant idea of faking an American accent. They are surrounded by American accents. Maybe they are more familiar and easy on the ear? I incorporate common colloquial terms that their contemporaries and peer groups utilize. Words like cool, hey, gotten .i.e. foreign words.
Brilliance is my word of the day. I am so supremely fortunate to be bedazzled with brilliant ideas. I ban doubts, doubts raised by Senior daughter; 'just don't mum! You're absolutely cronic at American accents.' [translation = inferior] I am surrounded by critics. I've been here 11 years now, I blend in like a chameleon. I am indistinguishable from my own peer group, depending upon which peer group you select. Which peer group should I choose? Would anyone let me join? [see Ref]
“So! I was thinkin!” I start in my best cheerleader mode, whilst whizzing up the motorway. [translation = freeway]
“Howsabout we have a new rule?” Never ask a question, always use statements. I glance into the rear view mirror. The occupants have covered their ears with their hands, all of them, six ears each covered by one hand, their own ones. I move to full volume because their ears are not hermetically sealed and I will reach their Eustachian tubes at all costs.
“Why are you talking funny?” she asks, unofficial representative of the audience. I ignore the undemocratically appointed questioner.
“We have three new words that are banned. No more 'twerp,' 'twit,' or 'turnip head.'” I notice my American accent has slipped, only applied to alternate words. I should have practiced this aloud, not just in my head.
“Dey are da nu English words. We cant talk English no more?”
“Correct. No English, just American.”
“But you are still speaking da English, but…da funny weird English now.”
“Whadaya say, is it a deal!” No questions! Only statements! How many times do I need to remind me of this? Silence. I wait. The message is delivered, but received unfavorably by the audience. They take in turn to comment;
“You can't expect us to listen if you use that voice, you sound like a right twit.”
“She's right. You are da twerp voice.”
“No, she not twerp, she is a turnip head.” The car rocks with violent laughter, joint. I look in the rear view mirror to confirm 'jointness.' I am an outcast in my own home. [translation = vehicle]
Ref – “I sent the club a wire stating, PLEASE ACCEPT MY RESIGNATION. I DON’T WANT TO BELONG TO ANY CLUB THAT WILL ACCEPT ME AS A MEMBER.”
* Groucho and Me (his 1959 book), cited by Groucho many times