The God Loves Me; The 91 Does Not

This morning I woke up to the ringing of my cell phone. It wasn’t the alarm I had set on the phone, but rather it was an incoming call, with a phone number that I didn’t recognize. I debated for a ring or two whether or not to pick up. After all, I was only half awake, and I knew that it was rather probable that my speech would be less than coherent.

But I picked up. And after the caller identified herself, she began to quiz me. One of the questions she asked me was really tough, and it took some self correction as well as prompting to get it right. Okay, so she wanted to confirm my New York mailing address, but that early in morning (it was 11) I couldn’t recall if I lived on 50th or 34th street.

There were other questions as well, and thankfully I answered them well enough for her to inform me that I would be receiving additional funding for grad school - as in, not student loans, but rather money that I would never have to pay back!

It almost felt like I had won the lotto, or at least some sort of mini jack pot game. And I wanted to update my facebook to say, “the gods love me.” But being that I am monotheistic, I didn’t feel comfortable placing God in the plural tense, and suggesting to the world that I had join some sort of religious sect that worships multiple gods.

So instead, I considered posting, “The God love me.” But the God sounded funny to me, kind of like how it use to sound funny to me when Southern California people would talk about their freeways.

In LA it’s the 71, the 91, the 101, the 405, the 605, the 5, the 10, the 210, etc. I never really understood the “the,” but when I moved out west, I quickly grew fond of it and implemented “the” into my freeway lingo.

To be finished…

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