1 of 3
July 23, 2006
By ASHLEY PARKER
Meet the Six. Their giggles are cute, but not too cute; their hair is straight, but not too straight;
and they are very, very cool. They even have their own lingo. The Ling, to be exact.
I first discovered the Ling about a year ago, when I was hanging out with my friends — a slightly
older and distinctly less cool version of the Six. We were trying to make plans for the night, and
someone suggested that we head down to Georgetown.
” I replied.
“Well, I mean, I think Georgetown would be fun,” I continued. “But
“Who are you?” asked one of my friends, looking alarmed. “You’re talking like. . .Justine.”
It hit me. I was becoming my 17-year-old sister. Though I was five years older, full sentences
eluded me, and I had subconsciously decided that abbreviating all of my thoughts was fun. And
Justine’s love affair with language — or rather, the anti-language — started gradually enough,
and I think that’s why I never noticed it. At first, when my mom would ask Justine if she had a lot
of homework, Justine would reply, “
” or “The
Then things got worse. Awkward became
, actually became actu, typical became
and hilarious became
Something utterly hilar, of course, became
— Top of the Pillar of St. Hilar — but there was nothing
about the situation.
As the older sister, I tried to do my part. Sometimes that involved throwing my sneakers at her,