24 February 2017

Like I know, right?

So, according to my 12-year-old it's, like, totally unnecessary when I sign off texts with my name. OK?

"The other person knows who the text is from, Mum. Your name comes up right above it." Cue eye roll from said 12-year-old here.

And that's true, of course, but I don't know, I still like to end my messages with my name; my initial at the very least. Call me old school, I'll take that. And I'm not going to stop doing it, styg (that's text speak for 'so there you go')...well, actually no it isn't, I just made that up.

If you ask me this new-ish language of text messaging is three parts depressing (it represents the fri#*ing demise of the written word!) and one part entertaining (decoding can be a little bit fun).

And I feel like I've been taking a reluctant crash course in it ever since an iPad came into the possession of the aforementioned 12-year-old four weeks ago. We'd held out as long as we could - it had to be purchased for school.

Now I'm learning to acquaint myself with communication via abbreviation.


You got that, right? I was saying I'd 'be right back'. Just had to answer the door to the postman (yeah, there are a few of them still around).

mk, where was I? Don't you just hate that one - mk. Not OK, mk. A waste of two perfectly good letters if you ask me.

Then there's wud - what you doing? I feel like it should be said out loud with a Bronx accent and sans a 'g' on the 'doing'. What you doin?

ttyl - talk to you later. This one isn't so terrible, I guess. A handy enough shortcut.

ikr - I know, right? This is my one and only favourite (from the smattering I've learned to date). I love it because it's so Ja'mie from Summer Heights High. It goes perfectly with a twirl of the hair. Except that we're texting here, so we can't see if someone is twirling their hair or not:) I also love it because without even realising I actually made it one letter better.

Yeah, I had lunch with some friends recently whose kids are still occupying the relatively safe confines of primary school, and I was telling them about my recent education in all things texting and I dropped the 'ikr' - except I added a letter.

"So there's one that is likr," I told them, waiting to see if anyone at the table could extrapolate the four letter riddle.

"When no-one could I proudly explained: "It's 'like I know, right?" My voice may have sounded eerily similar to Derek Zoolander's, but I couldn't help it, that's just how 'likr' rolls off the tongue for me.

It wasn't until that afternoon and I'm recounting my adult 'cool' moment to the 12-year-old that I get a late tutorial in texting 101. 'likr', what's that?, says 12-year-old. Mum, it's just 'ikr'!

Well, you know what? I don't care. I like 'likr', it feels more expressive to me than 'ikr'. And why can't we EXPRESS ourselves when we are communicating? It's the whole point, isn't it?


Bill Heslop reckons you can't stop progress. Well, while I certainly don't class the language of text messaging 'progress', I also don't think there is much I can actually do to stop it.

I'll tell you this though.

I WILL continue to sign off my texts with 'Sarah' or 'S': because I want to.

And I WILL continue to write what I feel like saying in them, even if they end up so long they split in two in order to be able to send to the recipient.