Saturday, September 25, 2004
- There is no U in similar. It’s pronounced sim-i-lar, not sim-u-lar.
- Similarly, there is no second U in nuclear. It’s pronounced nu-cle-ar, not nu-cu-lar.
- One would like to remind our country’s highest leader of this.
- There is no LA in REALTOR. It’s pronounced re-al-tor, not re-la-tor. Likewise, it’s REAL estate, not RE-la-state.
- The word, jewelry is pronounced jew-el-ry, not jew-ler-y.
- The word, ask is not pronounced ax.
- Ca-val-ry is a military term whereas Cal-va-ry is religious. The Calvary did not charge the fort any more than Jesus died at cavalry.
- Eyes become di-la-ted, not di-a-la-ted.
- We do not have a ways to go, we have a way to go.
- And while you’re on your way, go to Ti-jua-na, not Ti-a-jua-na.
- A beautifully shaped woman is vo-lup-tu-ous, not vo-lump-tu-ous.
- We sup-pos-ed-ly know our native language, not sup-pos-ab-ly.
- I like sher-bet, not sher-bert.
- Punctuation is a whole other issue, not a whole nother one.
- I put may-on-naise on my sandwiches, not man-naise.
- The color, mauve is pronounced mowve, not mawve or mu-awve.
- A child is mis-chie-vous, not mis-chie-vi-ous.
- It’s regardless, not irregardless.
- Coffeehouses sell espresso, not expresso.
- That silver sticky stuff is duct tape, not duck tape.
- One goes a-cross the street, not a-crost.
- The man had a heart at-tack, not a heart at-tact.
- You couldn’t care less, not could care less.
- You have another think coming, not another thing.
Labels: Pointless Venting
Sunday, September 19, 2004
Friday, September 3, 2004
So now I have another hurricane to sweat for my southern friends and family. Honestly, what’s up with the weather? Is it global warming? My aunt and uncle, who live in Lady Lake, Florida about an hour northwest of Orlando, aren’t answering their phone. I suspect they’ve already evacuated to their youngest daughter’s house. I’m not sure where she lives, but I think it’s in a neighboring state. And now I have to apologize for whining last week about wanting a storm. Forgive!
I seem to have established a routine (loosely speaking) since the move. I didn’t intend to, and I have no idea what prompted it. It seems this wasn’t just an address change, but a lifestyle change as well. I usually wake up between 8:00 and 8:30 and head downstairs, where I often find that Nettl’s already made my coffee, put just the right amount of sugar in my cup, and has even brought in the newspaper and placed it on the counter. Eat your hearts out! Am I blessed, or what?
I pour my coffee and take it and the paper upstairs, where I get back into bed, switch on the telly, and work both the crossword and the cryptoquote puzzles. When it’s not too hot, I instead sit on the front porch, which faces east, instead of putting my lazy ass back in bed.
After I make the bed, shower etc., etc., I check my email and read my favorite blogs. Yesterday, however, I spent the entire morning in the front yard weeding the flowerbeds. That was great! We’ve gotten to know all of the people on our cul-de-sac, so I really like being outside. Terry, who lives across the street, is a really talkative, friendly lady. Her husband commutes between here and Atlanta, coming home only once a month, but Terry’s pretty busy with their three year-old son, as well as her friends. They seem to go shopping a great deal. I have to add that the little boy owns his own car. Really. It’s one of those 4×4 looking jobs from FAO Schwarz. Last week he took Melissa & Sherif’s three little girls for a spin around the neighborhood. I’m being serious!
Melissa and Sherif, and their three little girls live in the house catty-corner from us. He’s soon to go into practice as a cosmetic surgeon, finishing up his education here at the university. Lauren has been hired by them as a part-time nanny, which is helping her save money for her class trip to Paris next summer.
Next door to us is our landlord and his wife. They’re a young couple with no children, but a whole lot of family. In fact, his family pretty much owns all the property in this town. Brandy is an interior designer with the family business. Their family, a local restaurateur, and a couple of other businessmen make up what I call the Stillwater Mafia.
The house at the end of the cul-de-sac is still empty.
I really enjoy this little community. One night not too long ago, Nettl and I heard some people talking and laughing below our bedroom window. When we looked out to see what was going on, we saw that it was Bryce, Terry, Melissa and Sherif… and a washing machine. (There are two other houses in the neighborhood, but they’re not in the cul-de-sac.) We opened our bay window and Nettl called out, “Hey, if you have beer in that washing machine, we’d like some.” Then we all BSed for a while. It was really cool. I’ve always dreamed of living like this.
Back to my routine… the worst part, depending on how one looks at it, is that I’m rarely up later than 1:00 am anymore. Does this mean I’ll have to abdicate my crown as the Incurable Insomniac? I have to admit I’m beginning to feel better. And I’m taking off weight. There’s one pair of Levis I can’t even wear anymore. Blast healthy living! I used to be the champion of the artistic erratic lifestyle; what’s wrong with me? And the first person who uses the M word will have to pay.
Well, enough of that. Time to head down to the kitchen for a bottle of water.
Labels: My Little Town