"Don, just give him the damned word!"

(Originally posted on May 29, 2011)

This undoubtedly qualifies as one of the most solipsistic blog posts EVER. But hey...it's now officially Bee Week 2011, so here's something for those of you into bee arcana.

The important words in my spelling career:

February - one of the first words I got in my first-ever spelling bee, when I was 8, at (of all places) a shopping mall. I got the word right, but was almost disqualified by the pronouncer for forgetting to capitalize the F. Fortunately, the judge ruled that it wasn't an issue.

population - My winning word that day. The bee bug bit, I got addicted to the feeling of winning, and thus began my obsession.

salve - The first word I ever really struggled with in a spelling bee, in 4th grade. It shot me through with terror. It obviously wasn't "save," but I couldn't figure it out. Through a murky vision, that "l" came to me, and I was, uh, salved.

cadre - The word I missed in that 4th grade bee, which meant I tied for 2nd place. Did it with a "k." Walked off stage with tears in my eyes, then was told to go back, just in case fate decided I had another shot at the top. No such luck. And man, when I walked back into my classroom, I hid my head in my arms and BAWLED. Quietly, of course, but man, I was useless for the rest of the day. Which, fortunately, was just another half hour.

ennui - A 4th grader getting this right on a written test at districts? I was excited, particularly when I overheard 8th graders asking each other what the hell that word was. It was a sign.

curliewurly - Hands down, the most fun word I've ever spelled onstage. I had made it past the written test and was on my way to 3rd place in districts. When this hummer came along, I just laughed and zoomed through it. It wasn't the word I got out on - actually, I don't remember what knocked me out. I was too happy to have made it so far, besting 7th and 8th graders along the way.

gynarchy - One of the 75 words I misspelled on the 2 hour, 100-word test at regionals in 4th grade. Naturally, that was the end of my career that year. That was one hellaciously brutal test. A few years later, the powers that be took pity on us kids and whittled it down to 50 words.

dewclaw - My winning word at the school bee in 5th grade.

onomatopoeia - HAAATE. The damned judges at districts remembered me from the previous year, and decided to hurl a curve ball at me in the very first round, hoping to knock me down. Mission, unfortunately, accomplished. What's worse, the second hardest word in that round was "bivouac." Everything else paled in comparison. But worst of all, once I stood up to get my word, there was a significant pause as the judges stopped, conferred with each other, and flipped through the word list to come up with this stinger. Just for me. Gee, thanks.

ratatouille - After an exponential leap in studying words, roots, and etymology in 6th grade, I won our district bee with what was then an impressive word with a wicked ending. Nowadays, it's just a Disney movie that kids are apt to recognize.

zoophilist - And that studying paid off: I made it to regionals, eked my way past the written test, and finally triumphed. A picture of brace-faced me pumping my fists and grimacing in what looked like more pain than happiness appeared on the cover of the Rocky Mountain News the next day. Didn't win me any dates...but it did get me to Washington that year.

shmnfkn - The very first word I heard given to me at Nationals that year.

shrunken - The first word I heard after I asked, scared out of my wits, for the pronouncer to repeat the word. I breathed a HUUUGE sigh of relief, rattled it off, and returned to my seat.

psittacine - The end of my 6th grade spelling career. I knew it was over when the pronouncer told me it was a homonym, then said "citizen." Had no clue whatsoever. But I was thrilled to have just made it that far. 41st in the nation ain't half bad, amirite?

cointise - My quasi-Waterloo at districts in 7th grade. Here I thought I knew the Words of the Champions back, forth, up, down, sideways, in photo negative, and every other which way. Heh. When the pronouncer gave me this one, my blood turned to ice, and I knew it was over. Well, relatively speaking. I had been ready to battle to the death with my archnemesis. Unfortunately, it was not to be. She got it right, then tiptoed through "concetto" for the win. RRRGH. I still made it to regionals, though.

incontrovertible - The first "out of the dictionary" word from regionals that year that I was given. Really controversial, since the pronouncer pulled an "onomatopoeia"-like trick on me, announcing that "this next word seems a bit too easy for you," and giving me this one instead. No worries. (The other one, which I don't remember, would have been just as fine. And yes, it was easier, but certainly within the realm of reason for that round.)

appellant - And off to Washington I went after this one. The pronouncer tried to do the exact same thing he did with "incontrovertible," but this time, virtually everyone yelled at the pronouncer and forced him to give me this word (and inspired the title of this post). Yeesh. Drama, drama, drama.

telencephalon - My swan song for 7th grade. I let nerves get to me - the kind that say, "Hey...you're taking a bit too long up here. Hurry it up, willya?" Shouldn't have listened. If I'd have given myself just 15 more seconds, I would have realized that this word denoting a tiny part of the brain contained the root enceph, meaning "brain." But fate told me to put an "a" where that second "e" belonged.

balmacaan - I wasn't given this word. It was given when there were only two spellers left onstage, in a nearly interminable endgame. Both missed it. But when I heard it, I went ballistic. I knew it! And once I heard them both misspell it, I knew that being up there among the top of the top was within reach. Maybe next year.

caoutchouc - Exact same scenario as "balmacaan." It just further reinforced the sense that I could make it as far as those top two had. Ironic, then, that for much of 8th grade, I felt that it was time to put the books up.

feral - Winning word from my 8th grade school bee. For a few interminable minutes, I could not for the life of me figure it out. I was top three, and had made the cutoff to regionals by that point, but damned if I wasn't gonna win! Finally it came to me. And on I went.

cotehardie - The first word in regionals that year that I had absolutely NO idea how to spell. NONE. By that point, the bee had been distilled into a battle between me and a classmate/friend of my archnemesis, who had fallen out earlier on "discigerous." My nerves were so shot by then, I actually unknowingly made the unforgivable mistake of spelling, starting over, then changing the letters. Certain death. Fortunately, the other speller also missed it. When we heard the correct spelling, we both looked at each other like "What in the WORLD was THAT?"

medlar - To keep this brief, it was nearly the exact same scenario as "cotehardie." We both missed it, and we both continued.

writhen - FINALLY, after an hour of torture, and after two minutes of trying unsuccessfully to picture this word, it came to me, and I nailed it. Thus ended, by far, the toughest competition I had ever been in. The second-place finisher forced me to claw my way back to Washington, and put up one hell of a fight. Honestly, he could have made it to Washington just as, uh, "easily." Here is where luck really came into play.

ideaphoria - The first word I struggled with at Nationals my last year. As it happens, it occurred as the first word I spelled when the competition had come down to the final two. Honestly, everything up to that point had been a cake walk. (It happens when you study for five years and make it to Nationals for three of 'em. Experience and time help.) Although I ended up spelling it correctly, I stood up there for like five minutes, racking my brain. Years later, it pains me to think of this: Ideaphoria means "capacity for creative thought or imagination." What was holding me back? I didn't know what that fourth letter was. In essence, I couldn't put together that another word for "creative thought" was "idea." Embarrassing.

spoliator - Duh.