I’m from the Bay Area, so I say “hella.” It’s a reality of my life. I’ll admit I don’t say it much anymore, but I used to. A term that originated in Northern California, I used it regularly until I moved to Southern California in 1999 to begin my college career at Pomona. It gradually slipped out of my vocabulary, and then at a certain point I decided to reclaim it, and made a concerted effort to reintegrate it back into my parlance as a symbol of my heritage. Now I drop it into my speech from time to time, mostly as a marker of my heritage. I also use the term “bootsy” on occasion, for the same purpose.
Anyway – I was driving over to dinner at our pals’ Holly and Joel’s place, and Jessica was commenting on how regularly I was posting on this blog.
“You’re posting almost every day!” she exclaimed.
“Yeah,” I said, “but it sure is hard. I don’t know how bloggers do it.”
“You’re like… the postmaster general,” she said. There was a brief silence as the hilarity of what she said sank in. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed, and started clapping her hands together. “That was goooood.”
As a punster, I had to admit it.
“Good one baby,” I said.
She crossed her arms and smiled cockily.
It was a good one.