“What is your favorite word?” my hair-stylest asked me as he applied white goop to my locks.
“That’s a good question,” I replied. “Give me a minute to think.
I considered the words I say most often, the words with a funky sound, the words I hold onto because of their deeper personal meaning.
“Disillusioned!” exclaimed my friend sitting in the chair beside me. “Becca loveeees the word disillusioned” she giggled.
I looked at her and laughed. This had recently become a word I probably say too frequently: When someone asks me to do something I certainly will not, when I am asked on a date that is implausible, when someone makes an erroneous assumption about me and my intentions. This world is disillusioned..
“That is a good one” I said with a grin on my face, but I think my word has to be elusive.
“Eelluusssiveeeee?” said my stylist mocking. “And what does that mean miss sassy pants?”[1]
I explained that it means that something has a bit of mystery, a person, or a concept you can’t quite put your finger on.
“Oh, like me” he said smiling. “Let’s see, how would you spell that…A-L-O-O-S-I-V-E…You girls and these big words.”
We all laughed.
“Well can you be disaloosive?” He asked cracking a smirk that revealed he was completely unserious.
I thought about it, and suggested that maybe it is when someone discovers your secrets, and you are not so elusive anymore…
I hope to never become too “diselusive.” I think there is something intrinsically sexy and classy about keeping a bit to oneself. I think too often we fall into the trap of becoming open books, thinking that the world is actually interested in hearing everything we have to say. When in reality, the person who likes to hear themselves talk the most, is well, themselves…
[1] Apparently some think I am sassy. Strangest thing.
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