Word Play

Ashes to Ashes

2011-03-09T13:41:00.003-05:00

SO, today being Ash Wednesday, I went to church bright and early this morning (well, really it was just an 8:30 mass) to get my ashes. It is now 2pm, and I haven't seen a single other person yet wearing ashes. Do people just not get ashes anymore, or are people just doing it at the end of the day so they don't have to walk around all day with a smudge on their head?

Ash Wednesday and Lent have really crept up on me this year. I am unprepared with respect to my plan for giving something up, and adding a mindful, spiritual practice to my week. Everything I have come up with I feel like I have done before. I have given up soda and chocolate and red meat for Lent in various years, and have committed to daily Bible reading, or weekly rosary praying as my additions. I don't know why, but these things no longer feel like sufficient practices for this Lenten season. I am tempted to give up something emotional, like anger or impatience, but worry that I will falter very early on and wind up without a Lenten practice at all.

The Baking of Bread

2011-02-14T15:38:00.003-05:00

The first neurologist visit has come and gone- nothing revelatory. Testing out a couple of new prescriptions, ran some more blood tests, same questions, same neurological exam. But in addition to 2 new drugs I am taking, I also have an absurd list of foods, beverages and condiments that I am not supposed to eat. I won't bore anyone with the specifics of the entire list, but there was one thing on the list that shocked me beyond reason- homemade bread! Under the recommended substitute for the category, ot actually said that I should eat commercially available bread. I have been almost exclusively baking our own bread for the last year, and have enjoying doing it. Now I have to go back to chewy mush? Absurd, I say! As part of my defense of homemade bread, I leave here my poem, The Baking of Bread. Enjoy.

The Baking of Bread

We baked our first loaf

not long after the honeymoon

in a kitchen too small

for two people

from a dough of flour and water

salt and sugar and yeast

And there was joy in the making

wonder in the simple

perfection of the work

It is work, the baking of bread

It is science and art and love

in ways that you only learn

when you put your hands to it

and decide to create something

A bland loaf,

of no discernible flavor

in white plastic

covered with primary

colored balloons

bought at 7-11

would have been so much easier

But couples cannot survive

on white bread

alone

variety is needed

so we found rye flour,

and whole wheat

and discovered that these breads

do not rise with a simple recipe

of five ingredients

Gluten, not found

in your everyday

bag of flour, is the secret

to big fluffy loaves

Molasses and beer

make better rye

Honey sweetens whole wheat

satisfying in a way

refined sugar never could

and the kitchen became

ever more cluttered

as measuring cups and canisters

competed for counter space

we did not have

There is a learning curve

involved in any craft

baking bread is no different

Knowing to check the dough ball

at the end of the second kneading

determining if it needs more

water, or more flour

testing the spring of the ball

to see if it needs

more time to rise

Knowing that the task

is not as easy as putting

the ingredients together

and leaving them to do as they will

And we will keep at it

There are butterhorns yet to make,

pumpernickel and pannetone

sourdough and cinnamon swirls

Maybe even a Santa Lucia

Crown for Christmas.

The Neverending Headache

2011-01-30T13:05:00.003-05:00

Mal à la tête,
j'ai mal à la tête,
mal à la tête,
appelez le docteur!

When, back in the mists of time, I started studying French, Mal à la tête was one of those ridiculous songs they teach adolescents to better remember vocabulary, like parts of the body (as is the case with the little ditty above) or the days of the week (for that we had the ridiculous but charming Lundi matin, where the king, the queen and the prince keep coming back to visit you every day of the week. Alas, you are never home.) Despite being terrible music, they get stuck in your head and here it is, 20 years later, I can't get Mal à la tête out of my brain, try as I might.

Loosely translated, the lyrics basically say, "Headache, I have a headache, headache, call the doctor!" The song goes on to call and response: "Do you have a headache?" "Yes, what a headache I have!" "Headache!" "Headache!" "The doctor!" "The doctor!" "Oh, oh, oh, oh..." and then it all starts over with another body part. It never made sense to me, though- why would anyone go to the doctor for a headache? And now we get to the point...

Today is day 46 of the headache. I have been to my doctor 6 times in the last 5 weeks. They have tried prescription pain medication, injected pain medication, corticosteroids, migraine medication, and oxygen therapy, all with no relief. I have had a full eye exam. I have tried cold compresses, cranial massage, and meditating to no avail. I am slowly losing my mind. My primary care doctor has given up, and now I have to go to a neurologist tomorrow. Except...

I have a terrible fear of doctors. A bad experience with a doctor will generally mean I won't go to any doctors for the next several years. And this one is going to be dealing with my head. As if the MRI wasn't bad enough, I have no idea what else I have in store tomorrow. That said, I am starting to think I would auction off my potential future firstborn child if it meant that I would wake up without a headache tomorrow.

Oui, que j'ai mal à la tête, et je vais chez le docteur à demain. Oh, oh, oh, oh....

Matriculation

2011-01-11T09:52:00.003-05:00

I love the in-between times, those moments (or weeks, in this case) between one thing and another. Ever since I have closed out the fall semester, I have been gearing up for the spring one- sorting through notebooks, deciding what to keep and what to toss, comparison shopping for textbooks. In the process, I have found myself musing a great deal on the fact that this will be the last time I actually get to do this. Assuming all goes well, I will finally be graduating in May, putting an end to my 15-year love-hate relationship with institutions of higher education. I don't want to tempt fate, putting my fear on display for the world wide web, but of the 18 credits I am taking this semester, I only actually need 6 of them (or, 2 classes) to graduate. The others are really just on my schedule because they sound so interesting, and, to be honest, to run up the score a bit.

I want to write about graduation and all that jazz, but I feel that a step to far. Maybe later in the spring. Instead, I give you...

Matriculate. Verb. To admit or be admitted into a group, especially a college or university.

Matriculate is one of those words that you don't really use. It is a term of classification, separating those who are just visiting from those trying to get a degree. No one is walking around campus asking people they meet, "So, are you matriculating?" Doesn't happen. But my nugget of arcane information for the day is the origin of the word, which comes to English through the Late Latin matricula, a diminutive of the Latin matrix. Matrix has entered our language to mean a great many things (see Dictionary.com's take here), but itself came into being through the Latin root for mother, mater, which seems strange when I think about matriculate. And then the term alma mater comes to mind, and I get it again. And I want to start singing ("On a hill she stands, majestic...")

New Year's Resolutions

2011-01-01T17:48:00.007-05:00

Resolution. Noun. Of the many Dictionary.com definitions, I think the first three are the most appropriate for New Year's Day...

1. a formal expression of opinion or intention made, usually after voting, by a formal organization, a legislature, a club, or other group.

2. a resolve or determination: to make a firm resolution to do something.

3. the act of resolving or determining upon an action or course of action, method, procedure, etc.

The sense of resolution as "holding firmly" didn't enter the language until the 1530's, the original sense (as the word was used in the early 1400's, when it crossed over from Medieval Latin) having been "a breaking into parts."

The first day of a new year always seems so promising. A fresh slate, a clean start, to be made of what you can, or will. I do not have a strong tradition of making New Year's resolutions, but I am just in that kind of mood today, so here we go...

1. Write a blog post at least once a week. While that doesn't sound too demanding, my average last year was closer to a post every three weeks. I may not hit 52 posts this year, but maybe I can do better than 17.
2. Write (creatively) at least 10 minutes every day, a piece of advice I am stealing from Marie Ponsot, who I heard read at the Dodge Poetry Festival in the fall.
3. Learn to make croissants. I have been saying I was going to do this for the last 6 months, and then lost the resource I was going to use as a guide. I have been baking up a storm this past year, I want to see if I can play in the realm of challenging French pastry.
4. Jog every week. Sometimes I go a month between outings, sometimes I go 3 times in a single week. I would like to be able to do this on a more regular basis.
5. Do yoga every week. Same story as above.
6. Don't procrastinate on my grad school applications. I procrastinate on everything else, I think this is one thing I can't afford to do this with.

I think that's plenty. In the unlikely event that I accomplish all these things, maybe I'll add some others. What's on everyone else's list? Anyone else making a list?

The Year in Review

2010-12-31T23:12:00.000-05:00

So, I haven't blogged since Election Day, but I wanted to shoot off one more post before the year comes to a close. Between school and the holidays and a headache that hasn't gone away for over two weeks, I haven't had time to do much blogging, or much of anything, really. But I thought it might be good to think about the things I have accomplished this year. So, 2010, in a bullet list...

The Baking of Bread. Aside from being the title of a poem I wrote earlier this year, I have stopped buying packaged bread and now bake a loaf once or twice a week. I have nailed down honey wheat, Italian herb, French, and light rye.
Writing. I have completed 13 poems and 5 short stories this year, more writing than I have managed to do since I was a teenager.
Knitting. Since picking up knitting again this year, I have made 4 sweaters, a shawl, a skirt, a laptop holder, and a mitten. In total, I have knit almost 4 miles this year.
Blogging. There have been 17 Word Play posts this year, better than my 5-year average of 9 posts per year, but not as good as last year's 19.
School. I have taken 14 classes this year, studying French, public policy, English literature, creative writing, and philosophy.
Anniversary. Anthony and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary this September.

And that's pretty much been my year. I will try to be more consistent in 2011. But I will leave you with The Poetry Student's Apology, an attempt of mine to capture the often humorous experience of being in a poetry workshop.

I'm a poetry student, please forgive me
for trying to find words that sound like “the,”
it's actually not so hard, as you can see,
but orange at the end was impossible to rhyme.

I'm a poetry student, will you forgive me
for the overabundance of profanity
I wasn't really trying to be funny
that's just the way that it comes out.

I'm a poetry student, can you forgive me
for word order that is sometimes clumsy
for using 'thy' when it should have been 'thee,'
in a poem that probably needed neither.

I am a poetry student, please forgive me
for writing that is all too free
for experimental vocabulary
for putting words down and letting them be
but how else was a thing ever learned?

Happy New Year!

Vote

2010-11-02T12:58:00.004-04:00

Noun. 1. A formal expression of preference for a candidate for office or for a proposed resolution of an issue. 2. A means by which such a preference is made known, such as a raised hand or a marked ballot.

Vote comes to us through the Latin votum (meaning a solemn promise), that having come from vovere, to vow.

Today is November 2, the first Tuesday in the month, and so, my fellow Americans out there in blog-land, it is Election Day. Get out there and vote, it is our privilege and our birthright to do so, and it is a damn shame that so few of us bother to do it. No matter who you are voting for, go out there and make your voice heard. Decisions are made by those who show up.

Rhinebeck, part 2

2010-10-30T16:24:00.008-04:00

So, I felt I had to write another post about the fun that was The New York Sheep and Wool Festival, even if it was for no other reason than to post more fun pictures of the animals. Okay, so maybe there is more talking about yarn that can happen, too.

I am still thinking about the yarn that got left behind. Obviously, lots of very pretty yarn got left behind, although there really were women laden with 3 or 4 shopping bags talking about making a second (or third!) trip to their cars, women whose mission seemed to be to pack their vehicles with as much fiber as they could hold. I was not one of those women. I filled one small shopping bag with yarn and a piece of stinky cheese for my husband, who could not make the trip with us.

But back to the yarn that got left behind. Specifically, the yarn that got left behind by me. It was a wool and mohair blend that had a lovely, subtle sheen, in a colorway called Summer's End. It really is the color that has been haunting me ever since we started on the drive home from Rhinebeck. The sun was lowering in the sky, hitting the trees in such a way that the colors of the changing leaves looked like they were glowing. That color- green, with gold and pinkish-red popping in and out- was the color of this yarn. Sigh. It was just too expensive, I would have needed something like $80 worth of it in order to make anything other than a scarf set.

I have managed to knit something with one of my festival purchases already. I didn't know what I was going to do with that stray skein of recycled sari silk and wool, but as luck would have it, I liked the way it looked with the main color for a shawl I was knitting than the yarn I had originally chosen as the contrast color. The variations in the texture and color of the recycled sari silk made for a much better contrast to the gray than the solid blue I had originally picked out. Serendipitous!

More about the festival, though, and I promise I won't bring it up until next year. I was pleasantly surprised at the number of men at the festival. I know there are men who knit and spin and crochet, but I am sure that some of the men I saw were along with their wives or girlfriends as bag-holders. There is also the animal handler contingent, and the people who were there for the mini historical re-enactment area. The fairgrounds seems to have converted a barn into a series of vignettes from the turn of the last century, showing the various rooms in a home, a general store, a woodworker's shop, a printer's shop. They had someone actually weaving chairs in the middle of it all. Outside the barn, they had a blacksmith's shop set up, where the gentleman to the right was doing demonstration. I found the brimmed hat highly amusing, which is why I had to take the picture of him, but find it highly unlikely that anyone would ever wear such a hat while working with hot metal.

Fiber, yarn, animal, cheese, historical re-enactments, cider donuts- what's not to love? Can't wait until next year, when I will have to remember to try the deep-friend garlic cloves and kettle corn. Maybe not together, though.

Rhinebeck

2010-10-22T12:05:00.011-04:00

Rhinebeck- a small village in Dutchess County, New York. Settled by the Dutch in 1686, Rhinebeck was visited by George Washington in 1796, was known for the fine quality of its woodworking through the 19th century, as well as being the site of Chelsea Clinton's wedding ceremony earlier this year at the former estate of John Jacob Astor IV. The village has a number of colonial and Gothic-revival era homes and inns, some of which I got to catch a glimpse of as I was there last weekend for the best reason to haul buns up to Dutchess County- The New York Sheep & Wool Festival.

I tagged along to the festival with my brother-in-law and his wife last weekend, and despite the several hours spent in the car, it was well worth it. The yarn! The sheep! The cider donuts!

There was so much to see, I actually missed an entire section of the animals. I did get to pet several types of sheep, including the very curly fellow (miss? not really sure...) to the right. I looked at the llamas, but they all seemed kind of surly. But the alpacas, oh the alpacas, they were my favorite. I am convinced that if I ever own a home with enough land, I want to raise alpacas. And learn to spin the fiber from their coats into amazing yarn, of course. I watched a livestock judging of one of the breeds (which is where I happened to meet my curly friend), and the process actually took a lot longer than I would have anticipated (I think it was about an hour to get through one breed from start to finish), which is how I completely missed the angora rabbits, which I was kind of sad about. I hear they look like furry footstools.

But let's face it, people go to Rhinebeck for the yarn shopping. Most of the time, you're stuck with what you can find at the local yarn store, which can sometimes be pricey, or the local craft store, which is generally a disappointment in terms of quality. Yes, you can buy yarn on the internet, but knitting is such a tactile art, you really want to be able to feel the stuff if you can. As I tried to explain to Anthony upon my return, I feel that I exercised amazing restraint in my purchasing. The pile to the left is truly all the yarn I bought, and 4 of the 5 skeins there were on sale. The 2 brown skeins are handspun alpaca, the small purple is yarn made from recycled sari material mixed with wool (those were from Fessler Spinning & Weaving,) and the green is some lovely alpaca laceweight from Spirit Trail Fiberworks (which is where I would buy lots yarn if I was rich- really amazing, high end materials.) The only thing I paid full price for is the larger purple skein, for which the above picture really does no justice. It is superwash wool fingering weight in a tonal dyed smoky plum, with enough yardage for me to make a sweater, by Sliver Moon Farm Fiber Arts, look them up.

Dodge

2010-10-18T20:49:00.003-04:00

Get out of Dodge, dodge that bullet, the Artful Dodger, dodgeball... these are the references one might come up with when given the word 'dodge." I humbly submit another- The Dodge Poetry Festival. Held this year in Newark, NJ, the Dodge Poetry Festival ran from October 7-10, and featured poetry readings, discussions about craft and literature, and frank conversations about the business of poetry.

Named after Geraldine R. Dodge, the festival is held every other year, though the organization puts together mini-festivals and poet visits for schools as well. While I admire the effort to bring poetry (and an appreciation of same) to high school students, I was unfortunate to be there on a Rutgers field trip the same day that the high schoolers were there on their own field trips, and was reminded just how much work these people have ahead of them to instill a true appreciation of verse in these youngsters who his from poetry sessions in the bathrooms, texting and chatting through readings as though there was no one on stage at all.

But enough ranting about the shortcomings of today's youth. For my own part, I was able to hear a number of poets read, including Amiri Baraka, Marie Ponsot, Rita Dove, Billy Collins, Sharon Olds, Kwame Dawes, and Kay Ryan. I couldn't pick a favorite if I tried, they were all special in their own way. And so funny! I worry that I lack the sense of humor obviously required to be a poet of note. I really would have liked to stay longer that day, or to be able to go back for more sessions over the weekend (there were dozens of poets that I did not get to hear), but my own writing kept me busy, with a poem and a short story due that Monday. (You can click this link to lead you to some recording from the festival.)

Funny thing, though- after all the excitement of Friday, with the festival during the day and an art show at a gallery where I read that night, with pages and pages of assorted thoughts scribbled in a notebook, I couldn't come up with a things to write about. I was so eager to write after the festival, but I was empty. I got the job done, but after hearing so much amazing poetry, it was humbling just getting down my couple of pages.

Pride...

2010-10-10T23:58:00.008-04:00

...is not always a sin, as in when you are proud of someone you love. This post is for my husband Anthony, who did a wonderful job co-curating the below referenced show, and was personable in two interviews to boot.

The Naked Measures Exhibit – 10/7/10 : Currents

Naked Measures is on display at St. Paul the Apostle Church, Manhattan, New York, now through the end of October.

Rhythm

2010-10-06T17:10:00.007-04:00

Noun. Of the many definitions available from Dictionary.com, I find #7 most appropriate for my purposes: Procedure or routine characterized by regularly recurring elements, activities, or factors. I seem to have lost the ability to get my life into some kind of rhythm.

I have been trying to write this post for 2 months now. I think this is a perfect illustration of the lack of rhythm in my day to day life. It was actually inspired by a couple of posts from other people's blogs sometime back in August (Gail started me thinking on the topic, and then I think something Paul wrote brought it back to mind, but I never found the right words, and now I can't even find the specific blog posts that inspired my reflection on this topic,) and from the rhythmic clacking of my knitting needles hard at work this summer, and the soothing effect that they can have. I have not posted anything on this blog since then.

I always intend to blog on a regular basis. I have spurts where it does happen, and I always feel like I have accomplished something when I get into that swing. But then I get off track, and I let little things become inordinately large, and then nothing gets done. I find that I am this way about certain aspects of devotion- I set out, every spring around the start of Lent, to create some devotional time in my week apart from going to church on the weekends. I start off well enough, but after a couple of weeks in, I have failed to turn whatever addition I have made into a part of the rhythm of my week, the practice becomes more and more sporadic, and eventually fades into the realm of few and far between.

The start of a school semester brings that same kind of promise- I buy all my books, set up all my notepads, clean out my school bag, pack a lunch. I even set up a digital calendar so I could plot out the due dates across all 6 of my classes (which is how I know that come the 3rd week of November, I am going to want to kill people, based on the confluence of due dates between the 15th and the 20th of that month.) A month in now and my desk is a mess, my bag is a mess, and I am pretty happy if I remember to grab my wallet before leaving the apartment.

I was reflecting on rhythm again in class last week, and stray questions came to mind- is it the rhythm itself that people find satisfying? Is it the order that it brings that is so felicitous? I certainly would like a little more order in my chaotic life, but just a little, because I think I have ultimately wound up with this final thought: it is not the rhythm itself that makes the music of life, but the variation from the rhythm that draws our attention to the rarer beauty in the world.

Abstraction

2010-07-28T08:30:00.002-04:00

Noun. Of the many definitions, there are...
1. the act of considering something as a general quality or characteristic, apart from concrete realities, specific objects, or actual instances.

2. an impractical idea; something visionary and unrealistic.

3. the act of taking away or separating; withdrawal: The sensation of cold is due to the abstraction of heat from our bodies.

4. secret removal, esp. theft.

5. absent-mindedness; inattention; mental absorption.

6. Fine Arts .

a. the abstract qualities or characteristics of a work of art.

b. a work of art, esp. a nonrepresentational one, stressing formal relationships.

Anthony and I arrived home at about the same time last night, which is unusual. As we were recapping the day, I told my him about the presentation I made in my American Philosophy class, on the subject of abstraction. It was a 5 minute presentation, just hitting the highlights of the concept of abstraction as it relates to philosophy, specifically empiricism and pragmatism, about the views of thinkers like Locke (pro-abstraction), Berkeley and Hume (the latter two anti-abstraction.) Just to clarify: Locke thought that it was possible for humans to have truly abstract ideas. Berkeley and Hume were not opposed to the concept of abstract thought, they simply believed that our minds are simply not capable of it.

The dear husband put it best: "All art, all thought, for that matter, is abstraction." And I think he is right. Words, sentences, everything we construct in our minds, is naught but an imperfect representation of the things observed by our various senses or produced at a higher level of consciousness. We grasp at words, hoping they convey everything we want them too. They seldom do.

Wish I had thought to say that in my presentation.

Yarn Haiku

2010-07-23T12:41:00.008-04:00

Haiku (noun)- a form of Japanese poetry, consisting of 17 moras (or on), in three phrases of 5, 7, and 5 moras respectively. Although haiku are often stated to have 17 syllables, this is inaccurate as syllables and moras are not the same. Haiku typically contain a kigo (seasonal reference), and a kireji (cutting word). In Japanese, haiku are traditionally printed in a single vertical line, while haiku in English often appear in three lines, to parallel the three phrases of Japanese haiku. Previously called hokku, haiku was given its current name by the Japanese writer Masaoka Shiki at the end of the 19th century.

Thanks go to Wikipedia for this definition, and to Lion Brand Yarns for this post. Lion is currently running a contest, awarding four, $25 gift certificates to the best yarn or craft-related haikus submitted to their website. I could always use some more yarn, and I haven't been on top of writing poetry this summer. I find that structured things like haikus are perfect to get the creative juices flowing, so here I am, trying to write a poem about yarn in a form that is really about nature. But then I remembered Ezra Pound's own, haiku-like poem, In a Station of the Metro. In its entirety-

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.

Best two lines of poetry ever. Well, at least the best two-line poem ever.

My own attempts at yarn haikus are less promsing. Here are a couple of examples I have already rejected for my submission-

loop, twist, purl and turn
the magic of creation
springs forth in my hands

red wool or blue silk?
endless creations await
needle meeting yarn

wool, silk or bamboo?
choices of color and crimp
tempt me, call my name

Still working at it, I have another week or so before the submission deadline. Inspiration will come soon. Perhaps I should knit some more.

(Edited to add- art credit goes to my husband, Anthony Santella.

I'd rather be knitting?

2010-07-21T13:31:00.008-04:00

So, I always hate those bumper stickers that tell you what the people driving would rather be doing. I get especially annoyed when the things they say they would rather be doing are abhorrent in my eyes, like "I'd rather be hunting," or "I'd rather be at Fenway." But I have come to a sad conclusion this week: I'd rather be knitting.

I would rather be knitting than doing the laundry that is piled up, all ready to go right into the machine, in the bathroom. I would rather be knitting than organizing my corner of the bedroom. I would rather be knitting than preparing a philosophy presentation on American Philosophy (which is actually a pressing matter for me at the moment.) And though I am not the type of person to put a bumper sticker on my car letting random people behind me in traffic know anything about me, I would rather be knitting than driving (almost) anywhere, at least anywhere I go on a regular basis in my car.

Maybe, right now, it's because knitting occupies my hands so well that I can't scratch the hives that have been covering portions of my body on and off for the last few weeks. Maybe it's because I can listen to music while knitting and not be distracted from the project in my hands. Maybe it's because knitting allows me to enjoy my other favorite procrastination pass time, watching The West Wing. Maybe it's just the soothing motion and clicking sound of working with needles and yarn. Who knows? But it's true nonetheless.

I Write Like...

2010-07-15T14:22:00.005-04:00

...everyone, apparently. Prompted by a link a friend posted on Facebook, I wound up at I Write Like, a website where you can paste some of your writing in a box, and they analyze what famous writer your writing style is most similar to. When I put in the text from Poetry, I got this...

I write like
H. P. Lovecraft

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

That was OK with me. When I put in the text from Dictionaries, Dime Bags, and Doxastic Attitudes, I got that I wrote like Stephen King. Blech. Beautiful got me David Foster Wallace, who I don't even know. Recidivism got me P.G. Wodehouse. Not really seeing any connection among these authors, and wondering if there was randomization going on, I put a couple of the posts back through, and all came back with the same result. A poem I wrote for creative writing last semester came back with James Joyce. My essay on H.D. from my poetry class last fall came back with Dan Brown (more blech.) And what the hell? I was dying to figure out how they came up with these verdicts.

In retrospect, I think the idea behind this website is completely wrong-headed. I came to this conclusion, sadly, after half an hour of playing on their website. But I think there are too many writers out there trying to be the next Stephen King or Dan Brown. Writers need to remember that the point is to find their own voice, not mimic someone else's.

That said, I'm also trying to think what else I could pop in the analyzer to see what comes out...

$112 worth of shampoo...

2010-05-26T20:10:00.004-04:00

... and conditioner, to be fair. What does that look like? Handily, I snapped a pic. The soda can is there for reference. Each bottle holds 1 liter. Obviously, I have not just spent $112 on hair product. This was my reward for being a frequent styler at the Bumble & Bumble, where I am a hair model. (For anyone in NYC, I highly recommend getting in on this if you can, I haven't paid for a hair cut or color in about 4 years, and I am always happy with the result.) After accumulating 20 styling points, I have walked away with enough shampoo and conditioner to last me... I really have no idea how long it will take me to work through one of these bottles. We'll see.

But, back to the point. I (heart) B & B. I really do. And with the product credits I get from styling, I definitely partake of their amazing product line at a discount. But I really want to know who out there is shelling out $55 for a bottle of shampoo and $57 for conditioner. Who (other than salons) is buying shampoo by the liter?

Spring

2010-03-07T13:19:00.010-05:00

Noun. The season of the year, occurring between winter and
summer, during which the weather becomes warmer and plants
revive, extending in the Northern Hemisphere from the vernal
equinox to the summer solstice and popularly considered to
comprise March, April, and May; a time of growth and renewal.

Days like today remind me that Spring is almost upon us. Being my
favorite season of the year, I wanted to pause a moment and hail
its coming. I could think of no better way than by providing
anyone reading this with the excellent poem by William Carlos
Williams, Spring and All.
Enjoy. 

By the road to the contagious hospital
under the surge of the blue
mottled clouds driven from the
northeast—a cold wind. Beyond, the
waste of broad, muddy fields
brown with dried weeds, standing and fallen

patches of standing water
the scattering of tall trees

All along the road the reddish
purplish, forked, upstanding, twiggy
stuff of bushes and small trees
with dead, brown leaves under them
leafless vines—

Lifeless in appearance, sluggish
dazed spring approaches—

They enter the new world naked,
cold, uncertain of all
save that they enter. All about them
the cold, familiar wind—

Now the grass, tomorrow
the stiff curl of wildcarrot leaf

One by one objects are defined—
It quickens: clarity, outline of leaf

But now the stark dignity of
entrance—Still, the profound change
has come upon them: rooted they
grip down and begin to awaken

-William Carlos Williams

Poetry

2010-02-27T10:32:00.002-05:00

The art or work of a poet; a piece of literature written in meter; verse; prose that resembles a poem in some respect, as in form or sound; the essence or characteristic quality of a poem; a quality that suggests poetry, as in grace, beauty, or harmony.

Truth and music. This is what my creative writing teacher told us that our poetry should be. (Just a side comment here, a few weeks ago he told us we should lie if it made our poems better, but that's neither here nor there.) At any rate, I am kind of buying into this idea of truth and music, and trying to figure out how to incorporate it into my poetry.

I have been a consistent scribbler of words and phrases, jotting down narrative ideas and perceptual experiences with the intent of using them in my writing at some vague future point. I have not been so consistent in going back and using those scribbles to produce any finished work. When I started my creative writing class this semester, I figured I had a decent advantage in my collection of notes, having all of these undeveloped ideas to draw upon in the event that I didn't have anything current to write about. As it turns out, I really need to be in the mood to write about something. Years worth of notes have done me absolutely no good, truth and music can not be forced.

The upside is that I don't really feel so bad about all the notes I have not managed to revisit over time, and am just happy that they got down on paper at all. On the downside, if I am ever going to get around to turning all those notes into poetry worth reading, I am going to need to spend a lot more time writing than I am right now. Four poems into the semester, I think I have four pieces of writing worth more work and further drafts. When I am going to have time to rework those drafts, who knows? Having a new piece of writing due each week kind of forces your hand on prioritizing your work.

Well, off I go. I have a poem to write about a dove on a fire escape.

Still Standing

2010-02-25T20:14:00.007-05:00

So, I haven't managed to blog since the semester started. I haven't managed to knit. I haven't done anything SCAdian in longer than I can remember. And don't get me started about the drop in the amount of cooking I have done over the last 4 weeks. Spring semester is in full swing, and I have no free time. Zero.

Don't get me wrong, there are many good things that have come along with that. Creative writing has forced my hand, and I am writing poetry on a regular basis again. I have read a lot of medieval-period books that have been on my must-read list for a while, and re-activated all of the French living in my head that I thought was long forgotten. I have found philosophy classes where people are actually engaged in the process. Most importantly, I have the end of my undergraduate study in sight.

But I have not had time to blog, to find words and turns of phrase that strike me and make me want to ramble on for a paragraph (or ten.) With no papers due next week, and no tests looming, I decided to take this night and at least re-acquaint myself with my blog. I also managed to knit 6 rows in the sweater I started over winter break, and am enjoying the Olympic highlights as I type. There is no schoolwork on the agenda. Well, for another 10 hours at least.

So off I go to enjoy that. Hopefully, it won't be another 6 weeks before I blog again.

Anachronism

2010-01-03T14:59:00.003-05:00

One that is out of its proper or chronological order, especially a person or practice that belongs to an earlier time.

I am prone to anachronisms. I like hand sewing. I like using calligraphy even when it not necessarily called for. I play medieval in the mother of all anachronistic groups, the SCA. But I was caught off guard when I went to the movies last night on Cedar Lane. As previously mentioned, Cedar Lane is the main drag in Teaneck. Movie City on Cedar Lane is the place to go to watch a movie for $4.75. They aren't going to have the big films on opening night, but less than ten days after its premiere, they did have Sherlock Holmes, so Anthony and I went to see it last night.

Movie City is where I used to go in high school to see movies for a dollar. Over the last 13 years the price of admission has gradually increased. While there are several screens, this is no traditional multiplex. You know that you're going to be sitting in an outdated theater with decor that looks like it might charitably be from the Forties. Velvet curtains hang on all the walls, the seats are uncomfortable and awkwardly spaced, but that is part of Movie City's charm. The screen is up on an actual stage, with flags on either side. Before the movie starts, you get to watch this...

But last night, as we entered the theater, there was something that years of going to Movie City had not prepared me for: live music. In most modern movie theaters, there is some kind of canned radio station with a high advertising-to-music mix that drives you insane until the previews start. Last night, we had a guy playing the organ. The organ looked like it shared its vintage with the rest of the theater. He played right up until the previews started. It was kind of awkward, but you had to appreciate it. It is little things like this that I love about my town.

Thank heavens for anachronisms. Life would be so much duller without them.

Dictionary Fun

2010-01-01T11:31:00.003-05:00

I am all for games with words- Scrabble, crosswords, even the occasional word jumble will do. But I think I have to steal this game I on just read about here, another blogger's page, Texas Word Tangle, which was listed as one of the Blogs of Note this week. I am going to snip a little bit of her entry for the description. From Rhea's blog...

Whoever goes first opens the dictionary...and picks out a word that they think no one knows.
Then everyone writes down what they think the word means...on their squares of paper.
The paper is then gathered and the person reads out all the defintions.
We all try to guess who wrote which one...and then we find out the real definition.
The person who was the closest gets to choose the next word.
It's so much fun.

It does sound like so much fun, and I think the super big dictionary would be the best one to play this with, but I think some of the other ones could be interesting, too. I mean, if I were to pull out the Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue (circa the 18th century,) I think we'd get some pretty entertaining entries. Or my poetry dictionary might yield some literary technical terms that would be good stumpers. Now I just need to convince other people of this at our next game night. Although, if we wind up playing Trivial Pursuit and Scrabble again, that would be fine with me, too...

Stockinette

2009-12-31T15:47:00.005-05:00

An elastic knitted fabric used especially in making undergarments, bandages, and babies' clothes.

So, for reasons best known to my brain, I have spent the better part of the last week knitting. I really think it started by going into that yarn store on Cedar Lane (see the entry Brick and Mortar for that story.) I mean, there are so many beautiful yarns to play with, who wouldn't want to knit?

Okay, so I haven’t knit anything in 13 years. My great-grandmother was a professional knitter, and she taught me the basics when I was in middle school, but I never did anything with it. Then, I picked up a pattern when I was a teenager and made a sweater. And that was it.

So, I decided to see if I still knew what I was doing. I picked up some spare yarn and a pair of needles from my mother-in-law over Christmas and cast on. My hands seemed to remember how to knit and purl just fine, so I started just knitting different patterns. (Stockinette is the most basic of the knitting patterns people learn, generating the flat knit most people associate with sweaters and such. I have no idea why the definition specifies undergarments, bandages and baby clothes, but so it goes.) I got bored with that pretty quickly. I decided that, until I got an actual project up and running, I would just make a scarf in garter stitch with the yarn I had lying around. But then I saw a project for a laptop holder on the Classic Elite Yarns website. Since I need another scarf like I need a hole in the head, I decided to see if I could improvise a laptop cover out of what I had already started.

The Classic Elite pattern can be found here, but it really was just a jumping off point. I am working in garter, not stockinette. There will be no pear. And I am unsure whether or not I will be felting this. It really is just something to mess around with until my yarn comes in the mail. Ooh, new yarn to play with... tee hee!

Happy New Year!

Self-deprecating

2009-12-28T11:40:00.005-05:00

Having a tendency to disparage oneself.

Last night, Anthony and I went to see Dar Williams in concert at a smallish venue in Brooklyn called Southpaw. It was part of his Christmas present (in addition to a book and a CD and a pair of pants. And a dustpan, but that's an inside joke.) It was a really good show, only the second time I'd seen Dar perform live. But Ant used to see her with some regularity, and hadn't in a couple years, so I thought it was a good present.

For those not in the know, Dar is a part of the modern folk scene. The other time I saw her was at the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival a few summers ago, not long after Anthony and I started dating. Being a big festival, we were like a mile away, and her set was a bit shorter. Last night, though, she was very much up close and personal. (She also arrived rather late, and had to slip through the crowd outside to get into the venue, which was kind of funny, but she was maybe 5 feet away from us.) The thing about her performance, though, was not just that her songs are interesting and her voice beautiful, bu she is actually very funny, both with her lyrics and with her banter between songs.

This is one of the songs she played last night, very appropriate to a holiday weekend show. And very funny. I made a comment to Ant about that between songs, and he said that she is known to be very self-deprecating in her humor.She was talking about her hair not being quite the "holiday hair" that she wanted for the performance,the fact that she was wearing unflattering jeans, that the green gods were punishing her for taking her car to the show instead of public transportation (which is why she was late.) When I looked up self-deprecating in the dictionaries, it seemed that no one was acknowledging the fact that self-deprecation is most often used as a form of humor. I know it is not exclusively used for humor, but, really, the average person uses it more for humor than anything else.

I'm just saying, I think someone working at a dictionary needs to get on that.

Brick & Mortar

2009-12-23T18:55:00.003-05:00

A store (shop, supermarket, department store, etc.) in the real world.

Lots of things other than stores are made from bricks and mortar- houses, schools, hospitals. But the term "brick and mortar" has come to refer to places to shop. The rest of the definition, from The Free Dictionary, reminds us that this is in contrast to "click and mortar" businesses. While the internet has exploded the assortment available to purchase for anyone, anywhere, and at anytime, it has done so often to the detriment of local businesses. How many small bookshops have closed since online booksellers made everything in print available at the click of a mouse? I am no angel, to be sure- I will take Amazon.com up on its promotions. But I also make sure I take a trip down Cedar Lane (the Teaneck equivalent of a Main Street) on a regular basis to make sure those businesses are getting the share of my wallet they deserve.

All that said, there is apparently a website out there promoting this kind of spending- the 3/50 project. As I was doing some Christmas shopping this morning, on Cedar Lane, I went into The Skein Attraction, a knitting store. In addition to being a very cute little shop, they had fliers at the register for this website. The concept being that everyone should pick 3 independent businesses in their community and drop 50 bucks there every now and again. For my part, I would have a hard time picking which 3 Teaneck businesses to support, as there are several that I like (though Picklelicious is temporarily without a location, you can still get their pickles at Maadan; you can't beat Bischoff's for ice cream; Briar Rose used book shop is always good for an hour of browsing; and don't get me started on the restaurants...) There is a statistic, on the flier, that stood out to me-

For every $100 spent in independently owned stores, $68 returns to the community through taxes, payroll, and other expenditures. If you spend that in a national chain, only $43 stays in the community. Spend it online, and nothing comes home.

Think about that as you're out there finishing your Christmas shopping, and shop independent businesses if you can.

Sublime

2009-12-22T09:49:00.005-05:00

Of high spiritual, moral, or intellectual worth. Exalted; lofty. Inspiring awe, impressive.

While studying for my poetry final, and trying to synthesize all of my scribbles into a coherent position on the works I was looking at, I came across a note in reference to this John Keats poem:

Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
That deep-browed Homer ruled as his demesne;
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He star'd at the Pacific — and all his men
Look'd at each other with a wild surmise —
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.

The poem is entitled "On First Looking into Chapman's Homer," and the note scribbled below it is emphasizing the difference between the beautiful and the sublime. A couple of years ago, I blogged on the word beautiful, and the definition contained there was "marked by a quality or a combination of qualities that delights the senses or appeals to the mind." Let's leave aside for the moment that people do not take in sufficiently the fullness of the meaning of the word beautiful (because I talk about that more in the link above.) Obviously, there is a sense of something bigger going on when a person uses the word sublime. But really, when was the last time anyone used the word sublime?

Let me restate that- when was the last time anyone (in normal conversation) used the word sublime correctly? You know, without everyone around you giving you strange looks and thinking you're an ass for thinking that pop-trash song that just played on the radio was sublime? In class, when we were talking about the concept of the sublime, and the professor asked for examples of moments we could call sublime, very few hands went up. Due to the awkward silence involved, I offered up my wedding day. Walking down the aisle toward Anthony was a sublime moment in my life. (Now imagine 20 or so teenagers and 20-somethings staring at me in shock that there is a married student in the room. To be fair, I don't think most of them realized I was over 30, either.) There are books that, at the moment of completion, I have thought to be sublime. Pieces of music. But is anyone else out there noticing the sublime when it happens? Was the class too young to understand the significance of those moments?

Things to ponder. Poetry final tonight, so I am off to read some more.

Acrostic

2009-12-20T17:09:00.006-05:00

A poem or other form of writing in an alphabetic script, in which the first letter, syllable or word of each line, paragraph or other recurring feature in the text spells out a word or a message.

With thanks to Wikipedia on this one, acrostics are a common occurrence in a lot of the classical Jewish poetry I was reading for my philosophy paper (read about me procrastinating about it here, or rejoicing about having finished it here.) Acrostic poetry is actually a common occurrence in the Bible as well (most frequently in the Book of Psalms.) I have always thought of acrostics as gimmick poetry- what real sentiment can be expressed under such restriction? Perhaps it is left for those with more talent than I.

Fortunately, the poetry I am studying for the next two days is not acrostic in nature. The poems I am working with is mostly modernist in nature, and modernists were not known for their literary gimmicks, mostly abandoning rhyme and meter altogether. Alas, this is all for a final I have on Tuesday night (I mean, really- 7pm on December 22nd?) Paul, you congratulated me on the end of the semester a little too soon- while all the papers are done, I still have a three hour long final, where I will have to write who knows how many essays. So I am re-reading about 50 poems, from Robert Frost, William Carlos Williams, Marianne Moore, H.D., Ezra Pound, e.e. cummings, Langston Hughes and many others. There is really no other way to study for a poetry final. You just have to keep re-reading the poems, and when the times comes, say what you have to say about them. I am going to miss this class.

Aphasia

2009-12-18T16:06:00.009-05:00

Partial or total loss of the ability to articulate ideas or comprehend spoken or written language, resulting from damage to the brain caused by injury or disease.

Last week, one of my blogs drew its leaping point from a word in Lucky's big monologue in Waiting for Godot (see the entry for Qua Qua Qua Qua.) In that same bit, Lucky references "divine apathia divine athambia divine aphasia." I could go on about poetic license or the problem of translating from an original language, but as it is typed (at least in my copy of Godot), apathia and athambia are not words as far as I can tell, and I consulted every dictionary I have on this one. Aphasia, from the Greek aphatos (speechless), is real. But the concept of what divine aphasia might mean to someone has actually struck me a bit dumb (no pun intended.)

Here's where I land. From the word order, it would seem that the author is implying that it is God who is unable to articulate ideas. I have difficulty with this. I think that it is simply a failing on out part to understand God. I think it is a failing of human language to ever be able to express God in fullness. I think of God as omniscient, omnipotent, and benevolent, and I have a hard time thinking of God as being struck dumb.

And I definitely think my class on Classical Jewish Philosophy, a class I literally took because it was the only one that fit into my work schedule at the start of the semester, has definitely gotten under my skin.

The Merovingians

2009-12-17T17:04:00.003-05:00

The ruling Frankish family from roughly the 5th through the 8th centuries.

Not just the name of a character from The Matrix, the Merovingians got the got their start as a tribe of warrior chieftains in Roman Gaul, filling the power void left in the fall of the Empire. A mixed bag of tricks, there were some notable bad guys, some saints (Radegund and Clotilde, for example), and some puppets among the lot. The line ultimately died out, and Pepin, a noble bureaucrat, ascended to the throne, starting the Carolingian dynasty.

Why do I mention any of this? Well, I was able to get some reading done today, and the book I picked up was The Birth of France: Warriors, Bishops and Long-Haired Kings, by Katharine Scherman. (I am a bit of a francophile.)

Why is this significant? Because I am finally done with all my papers for the semester! Today was the first day that I was not under some kind of deadline. I slept in, took a long shower, baked bread, caught up with the blogs I read, even tidied up a bit (an extremely little bit.) And I got to read, at length, a book that has nothing to do with school.

Not that I am blameless here. I procrastinated. A lot. I had significant trouble focusing on writing. Not writing in general, specifically this bit of writing (I actually did a fair amount of note jotting for poetry I am working on, but I don't count that as procrastinating.) Too many distractions in the apartment, like baking bread. Or watching the entirety of The West Wing. Or downloading episodes of Charmed from You Tube. Or... well, anything other than writing a paper on the comparison of Solomon ibn Gabirol's philosophy and poetry.

Mokume-gane

2009-12-13T12:17:00.006-05:00

Japanese. Literally, wood-grain metal.

This is a picture of my wedding ring (or maybe Anthony's, I'm not really sure, since they are identical except for the size.) They were handmade for us by our friend, Geoff Sullivan, in the mokume-gane style. I am not going to attempt to fully explain mokume here, but I will direct you to the Wikipedia page instead, as I am not equipped to give a metalworking dissertation.

I LOVE my wedding ring. A big part of that is that it is a ring that no one outside Anthony and myself will ever have. We bought the white gold and silver layered billet for Geoff to work with, but the twists and turns Geoff put in to make the pattern will never be copied exactly. If you stack our rings and line them up right, you can see how they belong together. Which is a piece of symbolism that just can't be beat.

Bell, Book and Candle

2009-12-11T09:48:00.004-05:00

So, since I haven't done it in a while, I thought it might be nice to pull a random entry from the dictionary again (for a previous instance, see the entry for Netsuke.) Even though I don't blog about it every time I do it, I do enjoy, whenever I have a dictionary out on the table, randomly opening the book to a page and picking out an interesting looking word I don't know.

I thought I would shake it up a little, though, and use a dictionary that I don't often use- The Vulgar Tongue. Complied and published by Francis Grose in 1785, the book was the first recognized dictionary of slang in London. I picked up a copy at Pennsic (the biggest SCA event of the calendar year) a few summers ago. Flipping open my copy brings us to...

Bell, book, and candle. An allusion to the popish form of excommunicating and anathematizing persons who had offended the church.

Well, I probably could have found that somewhere else. "Popish," for those that do not understand the reference, means Catholic in this context. The entry refers to the archaic practice of separating those from the church who had committed especially heinous sins, a ceremony which would conclude when the "bishop would ring a bell to evoke a death toll, close a holy book to symbolize the excommunicant's separation from the church, and snuff out a candle or candles, knocking them to the floor to represent the target's soul being extinguished and removed from the light of God." [Thanks, as is quite often, to The Free Dictionary, for its entry on this one.]

There was a lot of additional information on this entry. The pop culture references abound, so I thought I would post one here. It is actually a bit of an episode of one of my favorites of guilty-pleasure television: Charmed. I used to love this show. When the oldest sister, Prue (played by Shannen Doherty) dies, the song "Bell, Book, and Candle" by Eddi Reader is played over her funeral scene, shown here.

I wonder about the significance of a Wiccan funeral ceremony with background music making reference to a Catholic form of excommunication. The lyric used is "I need a bell, book and candle to keep your ghost away." I won't ramble on about my thoughts about that, for the moment, though they abound. But think I am going to see if Blockbuster has seasons of Charmed for rent.

Also, does anyone understand the significance of the officiant placing the rope in the urn during the ceremony. That one is lost on me.

Qua Qua Qua Qua

2009-12-10T09:37:00.005-05:00

Given the existence as uttered forth in the public works of Puncher and Wattman of a personal God quaquaquaqua with white beard quaquaquaqua outside time without extension who from the heights of divine apathia divine athambia divine aphasia loves us dearly...

-Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

Waiting for Godot has always been one of my favorite plays. Anthony and I went to see it this past May when Roundabout Theater Company put on a production of it with Nathan Lane, Bill Irwin and John Goodman. It was amazing. The selection above is the start of Lucky's speech, a bit of dialog by which I have been fascinated by since high school. When we read Godot in AP English, it was my introduction to concept of existentialism, and possibly responsible for my avid interest in philosophy.

I never understood the whole quaquaquaqua bit, though. In my reading for school over the last few semesters, though, I have quite often come across qua: Preposition. In the capacity of character of. [American Heritage Dictionary]

So there's that. I'm not sure that it particularly helps in understanding Godot, but I don't necessarily believe that one every fully understands Godot. One just keeps working at it, letting it mean what it does at the various stages of your life.

Apocryphal

2009-12-09T10:10:00.006-05:00

Adj. Of questionable authorship or authenticity.

From the Greek word 'apokruphos', meaning secret, or hidden. The obvious, instinctual connection for most people when they hear the word 'apocryphal' are the apocryphal books of the Bible, like the Book of Tobit, the Book of Judith, or the Book of Wisdom. Defined as the 14 books included as an appendix to the Old Testament in the Septuagint and the Vulgate but not included in the Hebrew canon, and not printed in Protestant versions of the Bible, the Apocrypha (note the capital 'a',) have been referenced footnotes in much of my reading of late, which has brought the word to mind.

While in the process of properly defining the word for this blog, I came across an entry about apocrypha in the realm of fiction (thank you to The Free Dictionary.). Apparently, the word is sometimes used to describe works based on a fictional world or character that were not a part of the original piece (or pieces) of fiction, like all the Star Trek and Star Wars novels that exist (and of which I own more than I will here admit.) In thinking about this matter further, it occurred to me that, while bookstores are full of this type of fiction, it seems to be heavily concentrated to the real of science fiction and fantasy. It makes sense, new worlds and technologies and powers to explore and all, but I want to know- where is my West Wing apocrypha?

Sadly, as I mentioned in my other blog yesterday, a piece of my childhood is about to get apocryphized [I just made that up, probably not really a word, sorry - hk] in three months, when the new Alice in Wonderland movie comes out. I am really not too eager to add to my conception of Wonderland with an addendum by Tim Burton. And the quality of science fiction add-ons are a coin flip, at best. So maybe I should be careful about what I wish for with respect to The West Wing. Oh well...

Must Reads, Revisited

2009-12-08T09:49:00.004-05:00

Two years ago, I created a Must Read list of books on this blog. That list was a reworking on an earlier list from an earlier blog of mine (when I still used MySpace.) The list contained 16 books that I had been meaning to read for some time. Two years later, of the 16 books, I have read four (House of the Spirits, Dubliners, The History of Beauty and Breakfast at Tiffany's) and given up on one (Love in the Time of Cholera.) So, I am compiling a new list, starting with the eleven remaining items from the first list, with some new additions. Here is what is has on it so far...

1. Me Talk Pretty One Day, by David Sedaris
2. On the Road, by Jack Kerouac. I've tried picking this one up a couple of times, but have yet to finish it.
3. Lives of the Artists, by Giorgio Vasari. I've read many excerpts, but never the whole thing. Has interesting facts about the lives of famous artists, even if the information is questionable in its veracity.
4. The Prince, by Machiavelli
5. A Clockwork Orange, by Anthony Burgess.
6. The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde. (I'm about halfway through this.)
7. Breakfast of Champions, by Kurt Vonnegut.
8. Don Quixote, by Cervantes. I know I've read this, but I think I was far to young to appreciate it, and really don't remember it well at all.
9. She's Come Undone, by Wally Lamb.
10. The Baron in the Trees, by Italo Calvino.
11. The Plague, and The Rebel, both by Camus.
12. The Open Society and Its Enemies, by Karl Popper.
13. Utopia, by Thomas More.
14. Fear and Trembling, by Soren Kierkergard. (About halfway through this one, too.)
15. In Defense of Food, by Michael Pollan.
16. Howl, by Allen Ginsberg. (I actually got an edition that has the poet's original drafts with edits alongside the final version of the poem, as well as lots of commentary.)

Some of these books have been on this list for a very long time now. I am certain there are things that I have meant to read for a while, but am not thinking of right now. The existence of this list and the fast clip at which I tend to move through books notwithstanding, I just can't seem to get this list down, probably because of all the things I pick up to read in passing (recently, News From Nowhere by William Morris, Mysteries of the Middle Ages by Thomas Cahill, and Seven Ages of Paris by Alistair Horne.) Despite this fact, I am always open to suggestions as to what else belongs on this list. Thoughts?

Recidivism

2009-12-07T11:23:00.004-05:00

Noun. Repeated or habitual relapse, as into crime.

I am not completely clear as to why this word has been rattling around my brain for the last few days. The best I can guess is that they used the word in one of the many episodes of The West Wing I have been watching over the last few weeks, and it has gotten stuck.

Why have I been watching The West Wing, (aside from the fact that it is one of my favorite television shows, ever, and that I feel the need, about once a year, to re-watch the entirety of the 7 season in a short span of time)? Well, in the transition from full-time employee and part-time college student to full-time college student has left me with time on my hands. Closing out my classes for this semester went from something I did in my spare time to something that I could do before lunch, leaving me with no pressing matters to which I must attend. I have enjoyed doing weekly grocery shopping, and cooking more, and baking bread. All of the fun tools that had been merely occupying space in the kitchen have been drafted into more active use. I think I am going to try making pasta from scratch this week. But I am the type of person that needs to have something else going on while doing domestic things, so I run a season of The West Wing while I am measuring ingredients or waiting for dough to rise.

I finished season 6 this morning. I will start season 7 very likely once I finish lunch.

But I shouldn't. What I should do is buckle down and write the 10-page paper that is due at the end of next week. It is, in fact, the last thing I need to do for the semester, other than attend my last two nights of class this week. Going from working 40 hours, with a couple hours of commuting, plus six hours of class each week, to only having six hours of class each week has allowed me to backslide into that favorite of collegiate pass times: procrastination. (Noun. The act of putting of until another day or time; defer; delay.)

I should clarify: I have not been sitting around baking bread and watching The West Wing to the exclusion of productive work. I wrote another paper last week (8 pages on invocation in the poetry of Hilda Doolittle.) I just have another one to go (10 pages on the use of poetry in the works of classical Jewish philosophers, a topic that I thought would be a nice bridge tying my major and my minor, but is now just making me want to drink.) I'm not having as much fun with it as I would have thought.

I could just watch season 7, and be done with the entire series, having no other episodes to distract me. But there is always watching the whole Lord of the Rings trilogy. Or all of the Harry Potter movies. And I haven't watch all of the BBC's "A History of Britain", hosted by Simon Schama, in a while...

Peripatetic

2009-07-26T12:16:00.013-04:00

Adj. walking or traveling about; itinerant.
Noun. a person who walks or travels about.

Peripatetic was my word of the day from Dictionary.com yesterday. That being said, it was already one of my favorite words. It brings to mind the walkabout, Kerouac and cross-country journeys, placing trust in where the day may take you. I knew the definitions listed above. I did not know what came next:

Peripatetic (initial letter capitalized)
Adj. of or pertaining to Aristotle, who taught philosophy while walking in the Lyceum of ancient Athens. Of or pertaining to the Aristotelian school of philosophy.

There is an alternate theory that the Peripatetics take their name not from the fact that Aristotle was walking and teaching, but rather from the peripatoi (colonnades) where they were wandering. But that is neither here nor there.

Here's where I am wandering with this word. I remember being told, years ago, that I must not believe in God since I was a philosophy major. I took offense at this. The writings of Aristotle, a philosopher, had a large impact on St. Thomas Aquinas, and led to the scholasticism of the Middle Ages. The comment was highly uninformed, made by a person who saw philosophy as antithetical to religion. (This person gets to join the head-in-the-sand brigade, and gets lumped in along with the many people I have come across who still deny that Jesus was Jewish.) The relation between philosophy and religion is complicated and thorny, but undeniable.

It always strikes me how Aristotle turns up at the base of everywhere you look. Optics, biology, medicine, politics, ethics, Christian theology, Islamic philosophy- all take jumping points from various pieces of his work, despite how wrong he was about so many things (his low opinion of women jumps to my mind just now.) Aristotle's teachings have been loved and hated throughout time, dropped for centuries at a time, and then rediscovered during periods of classical revival. People, by and large, don't realize this, though. They fail to see unifying elements where they don't want them to be. They fail to see the progression from one point to another.

They don't let their minds wander sufficiently, perhaps.

Eclectic

2009-07-17T22:14:00.003-04:00

So, in mulling over my previous post (see Eccentric from earlier this week), it seemed obvious to me what the E-word of the day should be...

eclectic
Adj. Consisting of components from diverse sources or styles.

Perhaps eclectic is what I really mean when I say that I am eccentric. Maybe I'm not a nutter, maybe I am just a bit more skewed on the map than the average folk. There is very little rhyme or reason to my collection of tastes. Decor that is matchy-matchy tends to irk me. Anything that smacks of uniformity drives me bats. But it really extends beyond the tangible for me when I talk about my eccentric or eclectic tendencies. It is about a diversity of experience, of mood, of sentiment. It's about running in the rain, and African chant, and poetry, and whimsy. Hundreds of other adjectives on the ever-changing list of things that move me. It is the stuff that keeps life interesting. Does that make me fickle?

Eccentric

2009-07-16T15:54:00.005-04:00

Adj. Departing from a recognized, conventional, or established norm or pattern.

Eccentric actually traveled to us through the Middle English eccentrik, planetary orbit of which the earth is not at the center, that having come though Medieval Latin from the original Greek. I never realized (read: I never actually thought about the fact) that eccentric was the antonym to concentric. An eccentric (n.) is an odd or unconventional person. The synonyms for the noun version of eccentric are lengthy and humorous- anomaly, crackpot, fruitcake, screwball, crank, nut, nutter, nut case, wacko, whacko (I personally like that they include multiple spellings of wacko- who knew?) But, at the same time, I take offense- I have always though of myself as a bit eccentric, but I certainly do not think I am a wacko (or whatever your choice of spelling happens to be.) I would have preferred to see a definition closer to a person with quirky idiosyncracies. Or something to that effect. But I guess I learn something new every day.

With thanks, as always, to Webster, but also to The Free Dictionary.

This Blog Brought to You by the Letter 'E'

2009-07-13T11:40:00.005-04:00

I am on vacation this week, one of those increasingly popular 'staycations.' I find that these kind of weeks rapidly turn into a string of mental health days, or ways to catch up on untended chores or abandoned to-do lists. I thought I would make a more dedicated attempt to add things to this blog (while dodging my logic homework at the same time.) Therefore, I will try, in earnest, to post something every day for the next 5 days. For such a project, I felt I needed a theme, so...

There are so many great adjectives that start with the letter 'E', I thought I would go Sesame Street style and use 'E' until I run out of 'E' words that I like or I make it through 5 days. In no particular order, we will start with...

ephemeral
Adj. Lasting for a markedly brief time.

I think there is a missing sense here, perhaps one that I mistakingly associate with this word. For me, it has never been so much about the limited time of the thing, but about the inevitable loss of it, the inability to pin it down, whether physically or with words. I think of the rapidly changing colors of a summer sunset, the kind that fills you with the pain of its beauty, but one that you can never fully explain how it made you feel or describe what it looked like to someone who was not there.

Am I wrong? Do I care? I am honestly unsure.

Dictionaries, Dime Bags and Doxastic Attitudes

2009-06-25T19:19:00.004-04:00

This is a story about a girl and a book. Bear with me.

For my birthday this year, I told my parents that I wanted a dictionary when they asked. Not the kind most people have, not the abridged paperback version people carry to school. I have one of those. I wanted a full-on, I-need-a-perch-for-it-in-my-apartment kind of dictionary. The only reason that I did not already own one was due to the price tag. I had a specific one picked out- The American Heritage Dictionary, Fourth Edition. My mother made an earnest attempt to purchase said item from Barnes & Noble, but got overwhelmed and sidetracked by a sales associate. I received, instead, a gift card, given with the advice that the book would be $15 cheaper if I bought it online. Indeed it was. I placed my order and waited for my dictionary to arrive. I had to have it delivered to my store, however, since they would not leave the book at the door of my apartment. So it goes.

When the call came that I had a package, I practically skipped to retrieve it. I brought it to the room where the management gang was having lunch that day, and proceeded to open my present. Packages drawing the attention that they do, eyes were on me as I pulled the book from the box. I have been informed that I did, in fact, hug my new dictionary in my moment of shiny-new-object delight. I then had to explain my need for a dictionary of this size, and my choice of said volume. I got teased soundly. The book came home with me and has lived on my dining room table ever since.

A few weeks later, I found that I could not remember which president was on the dime. My smaller paperback dictionary simply stated that a dime was a ten cent coin in the US and Canada. Thinking that I may be able to find this piece of information in my very large dictionary, I flipped to the entry for dime. Though the president depicted on the coin was not found therein(it happened to be Roosevelt), I did find a more expansive definition of dime. One entry included was slang for dime bag. Sure enough, the entry below was for dime bag: a specified amount of an unlawful drug, packaged and sold for a fixed price, usually around ten dollars. So, the first difference I have noted between my big dictionary and my little dictionary is the inclusion of slang about drugs. Great.

Fast forward a few more weeks. I am back in school and doing a lot of reading for my philosophy class containing words that I think are there largely to make the authors sound as though they have better vocabularies than they do. A word kept popping up that I could not grok: doxastic. I pulled out the little dictionary: not there. I moved over to the table with the big dictionary: also not there. I had to wait until class to find out that doxastic refers to our attitudes about propositions: either we believe, we disbelieve, or we suspend judgement. So, I am currently a bit lost with respect to my doxastic attitude about the purchase of my dictionary and the word doxastic itself. Either philosophers are making up words that have not gotten the seal of approval from the people making dictionaries, or my dictionary favors adding drug-related slang over less-common, pseudo-scientific intellectual words. I may have to suspend judgement on this one until the next puzzling word comes up for defining.

Philosophy

2009-06-20T22:39:00.004-04:00

So, while not strictly a definition of the word philosophy, I am posting here my own definition of what it means to be a philosophy major:

philosophy major : one who is in the voluntary process of trading a large quantity of dogma for a small amount of knowledge. See also philosophy graduate students.

I think I may have t-shirts made.

Paul mentioned that he had pulled my blog from his list of blogs since I had not posted anything new in over a year. I figured, being at the start of a new chapter in my existence, it would be a good time to post. That is a very long introduction to the fact that I have taken up the torch and decided to make another go at finishing my philosophy degree at Rutgers. Right now, I am taking a class called Theories of Knowledge. Basically, its what I think of as 'Epistemology Light.' The only drawback is that, being a summer class, it meets 2 times a week for 4 hours at a time. I am somewhat more sleep-deprived than I can handle.

This class is over in another 2 weeks, though. Then I will be moving on to Intro to Logic for the back half of my summer. This should be a little bit easier on my logistically, as I only have to be on campus 1 night a week, since it is a web-based hybrid class.

In the course of my first month back at school, however, i have been reminded of my great love of words and dictionaries, and have decided to revive my old practice of posting about unusual or lesser-used words that I stumble across. We'll see how that goes.

meme*

2007-12-10T01:43:00.002-05:00

Inspired by Bohemian Girl:

Have you taken any dance classes in the past year that you loved?
The only dance classes that I have taken this year have been SCA dance classes (medieval and renaissance period dancing, generally done as sets of couples or in a large circle,) wish I had time this year to get to more SCAdian dance stuff. Oh well...

Wait, I lie. I volunteered at a FreeArts NYC summer day camp, and one of the classes we did with the kids was on African Dance. That was a lot of fun, too.

What is your favorite tea and where do you get it?
Spice Chai Latte, hands down, usually just the Pacific Chai stuff I get at Whole Foods. Though I will drink almost any kind of black tea that is readily available.

What is your favorite podcast? What do you love about it?
KCRW (a public radio station based in Southern California) puts up a random song podcast every day, usually from someone you have never heard of before. I like KCRW because you get a good mix of Indie, World and underground music which you miss a lot of the time in NYC. That usually surprises people, but the NYC radio scene has nothing on Cali.

What food did you love when you were a kid, that when you eat it as an adult it brings you back-carries so much more than just the flavor-but memories. And would you share a recipe?
Hmmm... this idea does not so much exist in my family. My food memories are of Chef Boyardee and fast food. I still think of losing my first tooth when I bite into a good, crusty slice of Sicilian Pizza. I think about my 17th birthday and getting my driver's license and taking the SATs (all those things happened within 36 hours- it was a rough couple of days) whenever I have scallion pancakes at Taipei Noodle House.

What was the last thing you bought yourself?
Strangely enough, a cannister of dark chocolate covered potato chips. They are sooo good.

What color is your bedroom? Is it the nicest room in the house?
I live in an apartment, the default color is white. I want to paint the room, and I have a dozen ideas about how I would like it to look, but I would have to paint it white again before I leave, so I have talked myself out of the effort.

I wouldn't say it's the nicest room in the place, either. Certainly the most cluttered. I would have to give the nicest room award to the living room, there has been some attempt at decor there, and I like my wall adornments.

Are you a better cook or baker?
Tie. There are certain things that I bake well, and regularly, like my apple pie. I think I am a more creative cook than I am a baker, though. I like doing both a lot. You will have to ask my guest which they like better.

What time do you go to bed usually and when do you wake up?
Well, I generally work from 7am-4pm. Since I have a small commute, I have to be awake at 5am most days, which dictates that I should be asleep by 11pm at the latest. I should really shoot for 9 or 10pm, but going to bed at 11pm is hard enough for me. All things being equal, I would be up until 1 or 2am.

What sign are you? Do you know your rising and moon? When is your birthday?
I am a Taurus. I don't know anything about my rising or moon. What are those things supposed to tell you, anyways? My birthday is May 5th.

What was the last thing you said no to that felt like you were taking good care of yourself?
I did not go to an SCA event that I really wanted to get to, but it had been a very long and stressful week, and I thought I would serve myself better by taking it easy.

What is your happy place you go to in your mind when you need to close your eyes and take a moment for peace and calm?
My future fantasies, which take many forms, but always include a loving spouse & children. Simple, corny maybe, but it's my hope, and that idea gives me peace.

What is the last book you read?
The last book I completed was Storm Front, the first of the Dresden Files books, by Jim Butcher. Hank lent it to me. It was a light, quick, sci-fi/fantasy read. I'm still trying to figure out what I'll dive into next, maybe I'll just kill A Distant Mirror. I've been at that one for a while.

I tag anyone who is inspired to play on their own blogs. Just remember that the last question has to be one you've made up.

Apothecary

2007-12-09T12:21:00.001-05:00

Noun. A druggist.

Once again, thank you Webster. Why did people stop using this word? It is still relevant, and has the same definition as the more modernly accepted pharmacist. You hear it only in plays (there always seem to be a need for an apothecary in the works of Shakespeare and his contemporaries) and while playing in the SCA. Why do we give up so easily on words that sound so damn good? Why do we keep adding words to the English language that mean the same thing as the ones that we already have?

I vote that we all start picking up perfectly good words that have fallen out of use and bring them back to life. I am going to be starting with apothecary.

Must Reads

2007-12-05T17:51:00.001-05:00

So, a while back (about six months ago now, actually) I posted a list of books that I have been meaning to read on my MySpace blog. Readers posted their suggested additions to the list, which was both helpful and interesting. Six months later, however, I have realized that, though I have done a great deal of reading in that time, the Must Read list really hasn't been tackled. So, I am going to make the attempt once again to compile this list, with the hope that in the coming New Year, I will attack the list in earnest. So, the list as it stands now. The first 10 were my original list. The next 3 were taken from suggestions from comments on my blog. The rest are things I have added to the list myself.

1. Love in the Time of Cholera, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Started reading it, can't seem to get through it.
2. The History of Beauty, by Umberto Eco.
3. Me Talk Pretty One Day, by David Sedaris
4. On the Road, by Jack Kerouac. I've tried picking this one up a couple of times, but have yet to finish.
5. Lives of the Artists, by Giorgio Vasari. I've read many excerpts, but never the whole thing. Has interesting facts about the lives of famous artists, even if the information is questionable in its veracity.
6. The Prince, by Machiavelli
7. A Clockwork Orange, by Anthony Burgess.
8. The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde
9. Breakfast of Champions, by Kurt Vonnegut.
10. Don Quixote, by Cervantes. I know I've read this, but I think I was far to young to appreciate it, and really don't remember it well at all.
11. She's Come Undone, by Wally Lamb.
12. The House of the Spirits, by Isabel Allende.
13. The Baron in the Trees, by Italo Calvino.
14. The Plague, and The Rebel, both by Camus.
15. Breakfast at Tiffany's, by Truman Capote. Love the movie, never read the book.
16. Dubliners, by James Joyce.

There are many more I am certain. Any other suggestions as to what belongs here?

UPDATE: I actually read # 15 since this post. Sadly, I have not started on any other books from the list. Been doing a lot of reading, just not from the must reads. -hk

Beautiful

2007-12-03T00:33:00.001-05:00

Adjective. Marked by a quality or a combination of qualities that delights the senses or appeals to the mind.

That is how my copy of Webster defines beautiful. I hesitated in calling my boyfriend Anthony beautiful the other day, but went ahead and did it anyway. Why the pause? Somehow, it initially felt strange to call him beautiful, it being a word more often applied to women than men. Why did I do it anyway? Because it was what I meant.

I think there is this tendency to call a man handsome as a substitute for beautiful, even though the two words have completely different meanings. Handsome, again according to my copy of Webster, means very attractive and often striking in appearance. Mind you, I'm not saying that my boyfriend is not handsome- he is, quite. It is just not what I meant at that precise moment in time. I wanted to get at something bigger than mere physical appearances. Beautiful does it, handsome does not.

So, why do we hesitate in calling men beautiful? Men, do you have a problem with it?

A-

2006-03-23T23:51:00.001-05:00

I am stealing this from Matt, who took it from Jerry. I haven't blogged in a while, just haven't had the patience, or time. This is a nice, easy, I don't really have to do anything about it post. So there it is.

You Have A Type A- Personality

A-

You are one of the most balanced people aroundMotivated and focused, you are good at getting what you wantYou rule at success, but success doesn't rule you.
When it's playtime, you really know how to kick backWhether it's hanging out with friends or doing something you love!You live life to the fullest - encorporating the best of both worlds

Do You Have a Type A Personality?

Netsuke

2006-01-13T14:54:00.001-05:00

Sometimes, I like to open the dictionary to a random page and pick a word I don't know, just to see what it means. Netsuke is the word of the day by this method. Usually, I make out a little better than this, but such is the nature of randomness. A netsuke is a small Japanese toggle, usually decorated with inlays or carvings, used especially to fasten a purse to a kimono sash. There was even a picture:

Thank you, Webster.

A Most Excellent Riddle

2006-01-10T12:04:00.001-05:00

This came to me via an email. The answer is much simpler than most people will allow themselves to realize. Try it out. Post your guess.

What’s greater than god,
more evil than the devil,
rich people want it,
poor people have it,
and if you eat it, you die?

Quixotic

2006-01-02T19:55:00.001-05:00

For those readers not in the know and without the convenience of a dictionary, quixotic means idealistic in a romantic or impractical way (according to my copy of Webster's, at least.) A good word, no doubt. A bit flowery, not particularly easy to work into conversation, but still, a good word.

In a hazy cab ride a few weeks back this word flew out of my mouth. I was on my way from a bar downtown to catch the drunk train out of Penn Station at 1:41 am (those who hang out in New York City and live in New Jersey will know what I'm talking about, but for the uninitiated, it's the last train out of the city and back to Jersey until 4:20 am.) I am not sure I was really aware I was saying this word out loud. I am not sure the word registered with either of the other 2 passengers in the cab. I am sure that I said it. The context, however, now escapes me.

Whatever the context may have been, its use concerns me. I have a certain tendency towards being impractically idealistic and romantic. I just don't want others to know this about me, particularly those who may be the object of any silly, idealistic, romantic fantasies running around my brain. You know, like one of the other passengers in the cab. I'll stop myself, because I have no intention of making this blog an public online diary. Not that anyone actually reads my fledgling little blog, but still.

So, for those who are reading, even good words can get you into trouble. Sometimes more so than the bad ones.

Thus endeth the lesson.

31 Sentences

2006-01-02T19:39:00.002-05:00

I'm stealing this from Jerry, who stole it from Joe. It's pretty interesting to trace it back to see the same questions answered by complete strangers. I originally posted this on my MySpace blog the day before Christmas, which is why a couple of the answers won't make any sense with respect to the date of this post. At any rate...

1. My uncle once: pawned my great-grandmother's wedding ring. Years later, my aunt found the pawn ticket and bought it back. I now have the ring.
2. Never in my life: have I left North America.
3. When I was five: I fell into the toilet bowl in my parents' bathroom. I was so small, I couldn't get myself out.
4. High School is: an opportunity to try out so many different things, in a relatively safe environment.
5. My parents are: hermits. They don't like socializing. They do not have friends.
6. I once met: Tyne Daly. She was sitting across from me at Katz's in NYC while I was eating a pastrami sandwich.
7. There's this girl I know who: slept with a bartender to get this Guiness sweatshirt he was wearing.
8. Once, at a bar: my brother and I were checking out the same guy.
9. Last night: I worked, went to Teaneck to pick up Jason Goldsmith, and then went to Matt Dabney's house to play poker. Crashed at the original Dabney residence, in Teaneck, afterwards.
10. Next time I go to church: It will be tonight, for midnight mass. Merry Christmas!
11. When I turn my head left, I see: into my very messy walk-in closet.
12. When I turn my head right, I see: my very full bookcase. I need another.
13. How many days until my birthday? 131, I believe.
14. If I was a character written by Shakespeare I'd be: Ophelia, without the suicide.
15. By this time next year: I would like to live closer to my job. 90 minutes each way is killing me.
16. A better name for me would be: Amanda. I always liked my middle name better than my first.
17. I have a hard time understanding: gender roles. Sorry, if I want to lead while dancing, I'm going to lead. I'm not doing all the dishes or all the cleaning.
18. If I ever go back to school I: I am back in school, part time, trying to finish an art history degree.
19. You know I like you if: I correct your grammar or vocabulary, or tease you about the same. Please don't take offense, I only mean it in fun.
20. If I won an award, the first person I'd thank would be: my muse, my inspiration, whoever made me want to achieve what I did.
21. Take my advice: Breathe. It could always be worse. Look around, appreciate who and what you have in your life.
22. My ideal breakfast is: Strawberry pancakes, thickly cut maple cured bacon, an assortment of fresh fruit, cranberry juice, orange juice, coffee with skim milk and lots of sugar.
23. If you visit my hometown: go to Hawthorne Elementary School and play in the awesome playground there. Unfortunately, they didn't put that up until after I left for the middle school, but it was way fun to hang out in during high school. Then go to Bischoff's and get a Battleship Sundae. Bring a friend, because the thing is too large to eat on your own, unless you're me, and can just eat that much ice cream.
24. Why won't someone: tell you when you have something on your face? I walked around the store I work in last night with chocolate on my face for at least 2 hours until I saw it in the bathroom mirror. Just give a girl a heads up.
25. If you spend the night at my house: you'll either have to share the bed, sleep on a papsan, or the floor- my couch is too small to accomodate a normal sized person.
26. I'd stop my wedding: well, too late for me there, but I wish someone had tried.
28. I'd rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: show someone something that I've written. Writing has become very personal to me, and I'm very protective of what I put to paper.
29. Paper clips are more useful than: those things at the end of your shoelace. I don't know what their actual name is, but they serve exactly one function- to keep your laces from fraying, which sometimes, they do anyway. Paperclips, hoever, are mutifunctional, reusable, and a useful item to have aroound. Hooray for paperclips!
30. If I do anything well, it is: problem-solve. I may not be the girl to go to for sympathy or empathy, but give me something to which you need a solution, and I'm there.
31. And by the way: read. Something, anything, but please, read. Expand your mental horizons. Discuss something abstract. Minds need to be nourished, even after our formal schooling is done.

As a second by the way, has anyone noticed that there is no #27?

Persnickety

2005-12-25T22:36:00.001-05:00

I don't really know what to blog about. I've thought about this a little, while browsing other people's blogs, spying on the lives of strangers, sometimes people I used to know, sometimes complete strangers. I like watching how different people use words, in speech, in writing. So, words are where I will begin.

I like words. A lot. I enjoy using words that you don't hear often. I actually had occasion to use the word persnickety at work last week. How often does that word come out of your mouth? Fun to say, true, but a word that belongs to another time, I think. Far more people would understand your meaning if you were to say that the anal-retentive woman in your office was rather meticulous than if you were to say she were persnickety. It's a shame, that. Persnickety has such a great sound.

2005-12-25T22:12:00.000-05:00

Testing 123