Ohmigod, I was just texted by some rando. Super shady, right? Huh, whatevs…

So, you're judging me right? Wow, is she…how do I put this gently…a valley girl?"

No. I am not an exaggerated 80s cliché. Nor am I anything that cliché implies.

I am not an airhead. I am not stupid. I just talk in what I'll call Abbreviated American English (AAE).

I first started abbreviating my words this summer, while listening to a daily pop culture radio show based out of New York City.

The hosts' urban slang slowly seeped into my vocab.

I was blissfully unaware of the situation until I abbreviated too far, and my roommate questioned the integrity of an entire sentence.

"That guy was super rando," I told her, and her immediate response was: "His name was Rando? Who were his parents?"

We were officially speaking different languages.

Like any evil language planner, I continued to speak AAE without offering a quick-and-easy translation guide.

And like those immersed in a foreign land, my roommates slowly picked up the language.

But while I subjected my roommates to my beloved ‘rando' words, I maintained a distinct difference in my language when speaking to employers and certain professors. (A few of my professors are both prepared for and encouraging of my linguistic flexibility.)

Some social situations though, call for more professional language than I use with my friends.

Never would I answer the phone at work with a casual "holla" or throw "hey girl hey" at my boss.

I find that some members of our generation struggle to acknowledge the environment before they open their mouths.

And using too-cas(usal) language in the wrong situation gives adults reason to verify the clichés – we don't know when to turn off the informal.

To reclaim the intellectual reputation of the millennials, I outlined a linguistic dictionary for those stressed by the switch between AAE and refined English.

Shady works as a wonderful descriptor for the guy who texts you 27 times a day, but when telling this story to your parents or, perhaps, a detective of some sort, suspicious might be a more acceptable term.

When trying to describe that rando who's acting shady, why not try "incidental acquaintance"?

It sure sounds better than an abbreviation that really just clips off one letter.

In place of the über-quick ohmigod, "dear me" or "mother of pearl" will work just as well.

Obviously using Grandma-approved interjections isn't necessary in all social situations.

But realizing when and where to use modern slang is the responsibility of anyone whose vocab includes AAE. Modern slang doesn't have to make us sound stupid.

Because seriously, slang is amazeballs, but only when used responsibly.