It started out innocently enough—a way to pass time in the first few minutes before my history class two weeks ago. I turned to the last page of the paper and began filling out the crossword puzzle.

It was a Monday (and for those who aren't aware, the New York Times crossword puzzles (and most crosswords, I think) get harder as the week progresses) and so I reasoned I had a good chance of doing well.

I got most of the words, but not all, and not without a few surrepticious glances over at my friend's crossword, which by the way, she started a good five minutes after me and finished a good, well, a long time before me seeing as how I never did quite finish.

I was a little bothered I'll admit, not that I think this girl is a little bit of an airhead or anything (no, no, never), or that I—the English major who has always been secretly proud (in a very dorky sort of way) of her big vocabulary—was not capable of finishing it (except I wasn't) but, well, just 'cause.

And so I went home, rifled through my older copies of the DP and started in on the Monday puzzle from the week before.

Again, I did not get so far.

And so I began desperately searching online. More puzzles. I must get at least one of these finished.

My searches led me to yahoo, to MSN, to the Boston Globe (then back, because MSN and the Globe feature the same puzzles online), and to the dreaded New York Times once again.

I can now say (with a touch of embarrassment mixed with shame) that it's become something of an obsession.

I feel this compulsion to actually finish one—in ink, without hints—some day. A day that isn't even a Monday (though I would be happy with that, I admit). As an Ivy League English major who certainly didn't get to college because of her math SAT scores, I feel like this is some sort of prerequisite, some sort of trial I have to pass to really be worthy of the title. Or something.

So far, I've gained an incredible wealth of useless knowledge. The Utes are the Beehive State team. Mellville wrote "Onoo" in 1848 (or something like that). And epees are used in fencing (whatever the hell they are.)

Many a morning I've sat down to breakfast with my mother and watched her open to the page with the comics and the crosswords. She's usually got it done before I've finished my Cheerios. In ink. Without crossing things out. On days other than Monday.

Watching her do it sort of mystifies me.

'A four letter word for Japanese Willow?' I ask, bewildered.

'Oh,' she says. 'I know that one,' as she fills the letters in.

'Oh,' I say. 'Right.'

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Replies: 2

Posted by maura @ 01/24/2002 09:46 AM EST

whoa. it's been about a month since i stopped by. new look. clean and red. i'm finding the grey links to be a little difficult to read though.

Posted by wantwit @ 01/29/2002 01:56 AM EST