I am smare and not afraid to declare it so publicly.
The “Invention” of the Word
You see, I am a very modest and much smarter older sister, but for some reason, my sister doesn’t always buy my claim. So when I saw an article about some study saying that older siblings are indeed more intelligent about 1.5 years ago, my great modesty nudged me to email this article to my sister. Of course I needed to make a point and feeling justified by that article, I wrote:
“See, I am smarer than you.”
My sister simply responded, “Yes, you are so SMARE.”
D’oh! Yes, my bragging and boasting bit me in the ass with a typo and a missing “t”. See how smare I am? I now humbly accept my smareness and my friends all get a good laugh at my idiocy.
Because my friends and I use it so much, we get looks from puzzled people who are not sure if smare is a “real” word, but not many have actually asked what “smare” means. Is it that they are smare too? Or do they just assume it’s an inside joke and don’t bother asking?
First of all, let me define it for you:
smare – adjective, -r, -st. Origin: from an email Anne K. Lukito sent to her sister in 2007 or 2008. Often used to sarcastically or to describe someone who is not modest or realistic of one’s on skills. Also, smareness (noun)
1. having a false or inflated sense of intelligence, sharpness, cleverness, wit and talent. Example when used sarcastically: I am so smare: I didn’t think that I needed to defrost my turkey before cooking it, and after 4 hours in the oven, my turkey is still bloody and raw.
2. having a false or inflated sense of elegance, grace and sophistication. Example: She looks so smare in her zebra-print dress, electric blue eyeshadow, leopard faux-fur coat and bedazzled purse.
Smare is a word that has become part of my everyday vocabulary, as well as several of my friends’. It’s the perfect word to describe all the things I do oh-so-well everyday, like being a klutz or entangling myself in yarn.
How Smare are you?
I have almost daily moments of brilliance in my smareness. So much so that you’d be really jealous if you I told you how much.
Yesterday I wore my t-shirt inside out the entire day. I didn’t notice until about 6pm. Luckily, I didn’t go out nor did anyone come a-knockin’.
One classic smare moment happened this past Fall when I was sending a check to my friend Aubrey for money I owed her for Sock Summit. Well, see for yourself: