Adios is the first word...I think you have the rest sorted.
While in high school I leafed through a yearbook that a class had put out many years earlier. I came across a photo of a grinning guy on a motorcycle with the caption that Jimmy Soandso was saying Adios My Friend to the permanently dickheaded assistant principal in charge of discipline. Jimmy and I bonded over that across the miles and years...
Ikr is an abbreviation for the phrase âI know, right.â The phrase first appeared during the early 1990s, and its first uses in electronic communication can be traced back to at least 2004.
The phrase itself has been a pet peeve for some language commentators. The phrase âI know,â on its own, signals that we are aware of something another person is saying, or that we agree with it. According to some critics, adding the word ârightâ turns the phrase into a question. However, the ârightâ in âI know, rightâ is actually just a way of adding emphasis. Using âisnât itâ instead of ârightâ can also work in a similar way. How to Use Ikr
Ikr is a little different from I know or yes because it can show that you strongly agree, or that you agree with someoneâs disbelief. It can also convey a feeling of relief that someone else shares your feelings about something.
The abbreviation ikr is mostly used in informal communication, especially online or through texting. Thereâs no need to write it in all caps, although you can if you want to. Itâs not written with a comma between the k and the r.
Examples Jane looks better with shorter hair. Ikr, and the new color suits her well, too. Thereâs no chance Iâm going to be ready for tomorrowâs quiz. Ikr, Ms. Stevens is too demanding. Heâs such a snob. IKR?! People shouldnât be saying ârightâ after âI know.â Ikr ð
Oh my goodness. I come her to make a post on the English language and I see a post from Serious_Lee who has been missing in action for quite some time. I wonder if the warm sunshine in the back seat of the autumn was a harbinger of things to come. I really miss SL's stories and warmth.
Among other things, Lee captured the Canadian grey zone perfectly. The bilingual, bi-cultural world that some of us inhabit or have inhabited for long periods of time. It can be lonely. One no longer feels like you share as much as you should with both unilingual, uni-cultural French and English Canadians. If one has really tasted the sweet mix of different cultures and perspectives, it seems almost impossible to fully share with others.
Oh my goodness. I come her to make a post on the English language and I see a post from Serious_Lee who has been missing in action for quite some time. I wonder if the warm sunshine in the back seat of the autumn was a harbinger of things to come. I really miss SL's stories and warmth.
Among other things, Lee captured the Canadian grey zone perfectly. The bilingual, bi-cultural world that some of us inhabit or have inhabited for long periods of time. It can be lonely. One no longer feels like you share as much as you should with both unilingual, uni-cultural French and English Canadians. If one has really tasted the sweet mix of different cultures and perspectives, it seems almost impossible to fully share with others.
My mom, who only spoke English, moved from NS to Quebec with my dad before I was born. For the 19 years or so that she lived there she learned very little French. She made friends with ladies that were English or spoke enough English to converse with her. One day as I was holding her hand out on a walk (I was 4 or 5) she spotted a young boy who was handicapped. He hobbled as he walked. My mom said, "Gob bless that poor little boy". I was learning 2 languages growing up, french from the neighborhood and english from mom. The word "blesse" in french means "injure, to hurt". It really confused me that my mom wanted God to hurt that poor little boy who was already handicapped.
This moment in history is brought to you by the ride I took sitting in the back seat yesterday (can't remember the last time I sat in the back seat of my own car), the sun warming the back of my neck as I enjoyed the scenery, something that doesn't happen when driving.
My mom, who only spoke English, moved from NS to Quebec with my dad before I was born. For the 19 years or so that she lived there she learned very little French. She made friends with ladies that were English or spoke enough English to converse with her. One day as I was holding her hand out on a walk (I was 4 or 5) she spotted a young boy who was handicapped. He hobbled as he walked. My mom said, "Gob bless that poor little boy". I was learning 2 languages growing up, french from the neighborhood and english from mom. The word "blesse" in french means "injure, to hurt". It really confused me that my mom wanted God to hurt that poor little boy who was already handicapped.
This moment in history is brought to you by the ride I took sitting in the back seat yesterday (can't remember the last time I sat in the back seat of my own car), the sun warming the back of my neck as I enjoyed the scenery, something that doesn't happen when driving.
