Me Fail English? That's Unpossible!

A story of failure that doesn't involve alcohol? I'm becoming everything I've ever hated.

I spent four years in college studying English, my native tongue. I took classes in literature, composition, grammar, linguistics and many more. So I like to think I have a good grasp of this language.

I read a lot, and I think I have a decent vocabulary. I'm no David Foster Wallace, but I think I do okay.

So when I find out that I've been wrong about words for my whole life, it really sends me into a tailspin.

A similar thing happened to me about ten years ago. Up until that point, I had been pronouncing the word 'unison' as 'un-shun.' Because I suck, no doubt.

I thought 'you-ni-son' was just some crazy word that I didn't know, but when I learned it, I felt like an ass.

But it's excusable, after all, I was 15. I was an asshole, like all 15-year-olds.

But now I'm 25, with a lifetime of vocabulatory experience. So I didn't expect this to happen again.

This comes from an English nerd who get the steaming undies when I learn a new word. John Fowles is great when it comes to that, I learn a new word every 20 pages or so.

My favorite word I learned from him is 'eleemosynary,' meaning, 'tending towards charitable acts.' I dropped that shit like it was hot for most of my senior year, because I'm just that fucking awesome.

So I was on life tilt the other day, because I felt like a complete and utter horse's ass.

How would you pronounce the word 'segue?'

For 25 years, I was pronouncing it 'seeg.' I wouldn't use it often, but I can recall at least three distinct occasions where I used it in conversation.

Apparently, it's pronounced 'seg-way,' like the vehicle. I thought segway was spelled 'segway', because that's how they spell that thing.

Well, I couldn't have been more wronger.

How could this have happened? How could I have gone so long, gotten a college education and working in a job that requires me to know the English language without knowing that simple fact.

I'm not going to lie to you people. I went home that night from work, and strongly considered downing a bottle of Tylenol and a 5th of vodka, followed by a warm bath and a razor blade bracelet.

I was on complete and utter life tilt.

So the next day was Friday, and as is my usual custom on Friday's I get a fucking awesome burrito from Moe's Southwest Grill, which is your two-seed when it comes to fresh-mex as I believe it's called.

So I get there, and I order my burrito, which I get with steak and black beans, then cheese, salsa, cucumbers and jalapenos, because its fucking delicious.

The guy puts the cheese on, and asks, "pico de gallo?" And I say no. So he puts everything else on, except the salsa.

I say, "and the salsa, that will be it," and the guy (who clearly doesn't speak English very well, though he probably knows how to pronounce 'segue') says, "pico de gallo?"

"No, just salsa" I reply, and he says "pico de gallo" again.

Because apparently pico de gallo is salsa, or something very similar. For 25 goddam years, I thought it was the melted cheese, a.k.a. 'queso'

But I find that they're not the same thing, and I am in a full on questioning-every-facet-of-my-existence mode.

How the FUCK did I not know that? I love Mexican food.

I was at a party that very evening, and I went around polling people in random conversation about how to pronounce 'segue' and what pico de gallo was.

Surprisingly, I couldn't get a girl to let me touch her where she pees. I guess chicks don't dig vocab questions during parties.

It took me a while to recover from all of this, but eventually I did. After all, I had only been mistaken on three words in 25 years, plus I feel I still have a good sense of grammar.

Three words, 25 years. That ain't not bad.