Word of the Day: Littoral

littoral \LIH-tuh-rul\, adjective:
1. Of, relating to, or on a coastal or shore region, especially a seashore

Since I haven't posted since the 18th (gasp) I figured I better get on it so I don't disappoint the peanut gallery. And just where have I been? Well, if it's possible to make one week stretch out into eternity, that happened last week. I was at work on Monday, but then in a flash I was in Pittsburgh with a dear friend and after some minor finagling, I was able to still go to Oregon on Thursday morning to visit my family for a few days on the coast -- hence the word of the day.

For anyone who has not been to the West coast, you are seriously missing out. I mean, it's so awesome there, so much better everything than the east coast. You think your coast out here is so great -- Cape Cod! Ha. It's a joke compared to Seaside. I'm not kidding. The Oregon Coast is one of the most beautiful resources the Unites States owns and yet it's so ignored. Public service announcement #459: If you haven't been to the Oregon coast, get your head out of the sand and go there. You won't regret it. I'll post some photos tomorrow so you can see that I'm not lying.

The water in the ocean there is 45 degrees right now. Wouldn't that feel good today, in this 100-degree weather? Tomorrow is supposed to reach 100 degrees, which brings the heat index up to 110 degrees. That's out of control. I've been to Tucson in hotter weather than that, but they don't have humidity there. How does one survive outside in 110 humidity? I feel really bad for the workers who are constructing a building next door to mine. I hope they bring enough water. That job must be one of the worst of all times. Working in snow and humidity. No thank you. I think I'll stick with my job for now.

Word of the Day: Quandary

quandary \KWAHN-duh-ree; -dree\, noun:
A state of difficulty, perplexity, doubt, or uncertainty.

For years I've heard people complain about jury duty. They've said that it's a impediment to their daily life, that it takes up too much time, it's boring, it's annoying, etc. So when I received my first jury duty summons in the mail a few weeks ago, I was justifiably irritated. Nevermind the fact that I'm 28 and have never been summoned to perform my civic duty of judging other people, how could they waste my time with this useless jury duty!

The summons states that I must call everyday after 4pm to see if I will be called to duty the following day. It is now Tuesday and I have called for Wednesday and still I have not been asked to report for duty. Apparently there are no criminals needing a group of their peers to condemn them of their wrongdoings (look I've just been eliminated as a possible juror anyway!). There have been no trials this week.

So I worked all weekend on G8 stuff and didn't have a single moment of non-working time in 11 days straight and I'm sorry but I WANT to go to jury duty if only to get out of work for a single blessed day. So why won't they call me? Where is all the annoying, time-consuming horribly boring jury duty that everyone complains about? If anything, I'd like to complain that they aren't calling me! I would argue that there should be a hotline for people to call when they WANT to do jury duty. Fine, some of you don't. That's your choice. But I do. And I don't think it's fair that they gave me false hope that I would be called. There's always hope for Thursday or Friday, but I hold no faith in the court system at this point.

What does a person have to do to get a day off around here?

Word of the Day: Viral

viral

adj : relating to or caused by a virus; "viral infection"

No, I don't have a virus.

I was basically held at gunpoint this afternoon until I assured my friend Brian that I would blog about a project he's involved in at work. Here is the conversation we had taken directly from the chat window.

Brian: i'm pretty proud of myself
if you wanna help viral me a bit with your blog that would be moy bueno
me: sure I can do that
Brian: thanks doc
word of the day = viral
me: hah
okay, you ordered it

The project is basically a Solar Car Race Team from Houston. The company Brian works for, Schott, donated the solar panels to the school so they could build the Sundancer, the car they plan to race in the Dell-Winston Solar Car Race in Dallas, TX. Brian set up this blog for the students so they could track their experience and update fans who are checking on their progress. He thought I was being sarcastic when I said I thought it was cool, but it actually is. I wanted to build a solar car when I was in high school, but instead we just got to read about it. So these kids are pretty lucky to be involved in something like this.

What I'm wondering though is why I don't get this excited about any of my work projects. Of course, I don't work somewhere that invokes excitement. And I *was* excited to go to Russia for the G8, but that didn't work out because they thwart fun. I guess converting websites isn't exactly thrilling work so I should just be glad that I work with really wonderful people who I don't mind spending 40 hrs a week with. But I would really like to be doing something that I could get excited about.

So back to the word of the day. Why did Brian want the word to be viral. He doesn't have a virus either. He's in marketing and he wants his advertising of this program to be infectious. Perhaps I should have used the word "infectious" because that better explains what I'm talking about here. How many people in the world have a job that is a happy form of infectious? I wish I had one.

Wedding Photo

The weekend provided the best weather imaginably for the wedding of my good friend Rebecca (now) Cline. It was held out in Warrenton at the Black Horse Inn, a bed and breakfast in the countryside with horses and a beautiful landscape that included an old farm house where we all stayed and a reception hall.

Everything turned out lovely and I have very fond memories of the event. Rebecca and Toss are currently traipsing around San Francisco, soon to be on a cruise to Hawaii. I am jealous.


(Photo taken by the wonderful Mr. Reed)

Word of the Day: Junking

I can't believe I haven't discussed this topic yet on my blog. And I thought I was running out of things to say... Nothing is complete until this topic is discussed in full. It's called Junking.

I'm patiently awaiting the day when the word "junking" makes it into the dictionary. It will. Oh it will. It is slowly taking hold as more and more spam enters our inboxes and forces us to construct methods of ridding ourselves of this unwanted mail. I have rules set up on my work mail that automatically sends things from specifically people straight to the junk mail folder. This way I don't even have to see them, much less take the time required to click on them and move them manually to the junk folder. When people ask me if I've read these specific emails, I just say "Oh, no, I junked him." I junk everything labeled "broadcast", anything with the terms "technical", "help desk" and anything sent from another country that isn't specifically addressed to me (we get a lot of random embassy mail).

Inbox is not in the dictionary. They had time to add the word "supersize" but have not gotten around to inbox? They just added the words "google" and "unibrow" to the dictionary. Incidentally the word "biodiesel" has also been added. I'm not even sure what that is.

Nothing to Say

Alright, I'll admit it, I have nothing to say. In fact, I haven't had anything to say in almost a week now. I think that officially means that I have writer's block, despite the fact that most people don't think that's a real ailment. Try being a writer for a week without anything to say. It's devastating.

I mean, I could write about the sequel to Pirates of the Caribbean, which I've been waiting many months for -- it's finally coming out on Saturday.

Or I could write about the wedding I'm going to be in on Saturday that prevents me from seeing the above mentioned movie (for a VERY good cause! Cheers to Rebecca and Toss).

Or I could post some photos of the Fourth of July party I went to on Tuesday at my friend Mo's house, but my camera dock is broken so the photos are helplessly trapped.

I could post some random facts about Oregon I found out just now -- it's the 28th most populated state in the U.S. and the 9th biggest. They make the best cheese at Tillamook. If you ever go there, ask for the squeaky cheese -- oh, and the Oregon Strawberry ice cream! Did you know that the state drink is milk? Who even knew that a state had a "drink"? Too bad I'm allergic to it.

I don't really want to write about any of those things though, so I won't. We'll just go on like this with nothing new to update my blog with until I get a life or a divine inspiration floods my brain. Until then...

Word of the Day: Anamnesis

an·am·ne·sis (nm-nss)
n. pl. an·am·ne·ses (-sz)

A recalling to memory; recollection.

I'm listening to my headphones at work and the theme song for Beetle Juice is playing. Oh how I used to love that movie. It's been years since I've seen it, but I used to watch it all the time and I knew just about every line in it, and the words to all the songs. It was really a brilliant movie. I do have to wonder what I would think of the movie if I watched it today. I do remember it being rather cheesy. Of course, it was released in 1988, so by the standards of that day for movies, plus the fact that I was only 11 years old, I can only assume it's actually a really stupid movie.

Other movies I watched often and loved as a child include Oh God, Part 2. Specifically Part 2. I'm not sure why. But my sister and I even tape recorded the dialogue of this film and listened to it over and over without the visual. We must have been really bored as children.

And the best of all... Ricky Ticky Tavy. We liked this movie so much that we even named our cat after the little mongoose in the show. We called her Tavy, because she used to stand up on her back legs a lot like Ricky Ticky Tavy did. Is it strange that I can't find any real reference to this on Google? I mean, it was a famous book written in the late 1800s. Shouldn't there be more evidence of its existence? I'm trying to find a photo.

UPDATE:

Thanks to the genius of Peggy, I was able to find this one photo of Ricki Ticki Tavy from Amazon.
(Amazon photo)
He looks like a chipmonk in this photo though.

And I thought of another film that if I was in my right mind yesterday I should never have forgotten to add to the list. Bed Knobs and Broomsticks! How many times did we rub the knobs on our beds hoping we could get the bed to fly like a magic carpet! Did anybody else do this?

Question of the Day: What were they thinking?

Today is TYDTWDay. What does that mean? It means Take Your Dog to Work Day. Do I need to repeat that, did you see that? Take your dog to work? What in the world was someone thinking when they created this insanity? I think it's bad enough that people are allowed to bring their cell phones to work, and wear annoying flip flops. But the day someone brings a freaking dog in here is the day that I lose my sanity and quit.

I heard about TYDTWD from my coworker who apparently owns numerous dogs. I don't know this because he's told me, but because his clothes have enough dog hair on them to create a whole new pet (no, not you CP). I just overheard him say that we should have all brought our pets to work today and that got me worked up enough to write a blog entry about it, so you can probably guess how fond I am of dogs (and pets in general). So I looked up the website for TYDTWD to see what possible good could come out of bringing your stupid, slobbery pet to work and here is what they claim: (WARNING: GROSS SENTIMENTALITY FOLLOWS)

This annual event, now in its eighth year, brings people and pets together in a special way on a special day. Dogs go to work. Hearts are touched.

Hearts are touched? Are you serious? What about "Dogs go to work. Eyes water" or "Dogs go to work. People sneeze." Hello. We don't all care about your ugly little dog. And don't even think about bringing your pet rat or snake. There are already enough fake, stuffed cats in my cube to keep me annoyed for years.

Word of the Day:

Yes, the word is blank (nothing). How many people contacted me this week regarding the fact that my blog was broadcasting white space for a full 5 days? Probably every person who reads my blog regularly, which is really only a handful of people. So to everyone who cares, I am alive and well. The blog police did not remove my blog due to some sordid scandal. And I have not decided to shut out the world and move to Belize. So everyone can rest easy now. And to all of you who didn't contact me to ask why my blog was no longer viewable online -- well you are all on the "list" now because clearly you don't care about me. ;)

Okay, more later, just wanted to clear that up.

Word of the Day: Indefatigable

in·de·fat·i·ga·ble
adj.
Incapable or seemingly incapable of being fatigued; tireless.

This weekend I managed to surprise even myself with how much I was capable of doing in two short days. Today I'm feeling a little like a ragdoll with sore feet, a little like Monday, not Saturday, is a day of rest, and a little like an energizer battery that doesn't really keep on going.

Saturday I managed to perform every last task I had for work because it was my turn at weekend duty (again!) and still pulled off the bridal tea of the century, complete with perfect little scones and tarts and strawberries. I did somewhat get accosted in primetime regarding my last name, but I'm trying to forget that embarrassing part of the event.

I am also happy to report that suburbia actually does have good mini-golf courses, and directly across the street was a local ice cream place with Oreo soft-serv and a line that practically extended into the highway. We trekked all the way out to Manassas (I'll spare you Kim's version of the city name -- which ends in "hole" if you care to venture a guess). Met some really nice people, made some new friends, and proved without a doubt that I am the worst mini-golfer in history.

Sunday, Kim and I hung out in a park in Pentagon City for a couple of hours before our BBQ to hold the table, thinking everyone would want to grill outside for Father's Day, but that didn't happen to be the case. In fact, no one was there due in part to the fact that it was nearly 95 degrees outside and what fools would subject themselves to that kind of heat unless absolutely necessary. However, about 18 people showed up and we stayed for 4.5 hours, so it was clearly a success.

Word of the Day: Tea

Today I'm hosting a bridal tea for my dear friend Rebecca. The tea is my version of a "shower" -- a word which I and many other women my age have come to despise because of the sheer number of them we've been invited to. Thus when, as the Maid of Honor, I was put in the position to host one, I went with the tea.

This isn't just an ordinary tea either. I never do anything halfway. If it can't be done properly, I'd rather not do it at all. I've made scones, strawberry cream puffs, blueberry cream tarts, and lamingtons (which are bite-sized pieces of cake covering in chocolate and coconut). Angela is bringing heart-shaped sugar cookies and cucumber sandwiches and Timoni is bringing salmon and crackers. The tea selection is equally as expansive. I have three kinds of hot tea and three kinds of iced tea, including the famous Prickly Pear tea I brought back from Arizona.

But, the best part about the tea is that I finally get to tell Rebecca a very funny story that I've been keeping from her for a few weeks. I had her fiancee meet me a few weeks ago at a shopping center by her house so I could video tape him for a game we'll be playing at the tea. He had to tell her a little white lie to get there without her knowing, which was that he was going to swing by the post office on the way home (they were in two cars and both headed home). If that was really what he was doing, it would take him approximately 5 minutes extra.

On my way to meet him, I nearly wrecked my car in to the median when a spider walked across the driver's side door right by my arm. My dad once warned me that if I didn't get over my fear of spiders I would one day wreck my car because of it. I didn't wreck, but I did freak out. I tried to kill it, but of course it fell to my feet instead. The rest of the drive I prayed "Please don't let it crawl on me, please don't let it crawl on me". When I arrived, Toss was standing there. I got out like a crazy woman flailing my arms and doing the Jerry MaGuire dance ("I'm not going to do what you all think I'm going to do, which is just FREAK OUT!"). Of course, I couldn't get back in the car until the spider was confirmed dead, so Toss chased the thing around the floorboard until it was dead.

Needless to say, we weren't done with the taping in five minutes. So we had to create a story to tell Rebecca that was believeable. We decided the best option was to tell her that some crazy woman was freaking out about a spider in her car and he had to be a gentleman and kill it for her. Not only did she believe the story, she actually told it to me a week later when we were having our dresses fitted. So now I'm especially excited to tell her that the crazy woman was actually me.

Word of the Day: Updates

So clearly it's been a while since I've updated. My only excuse is that I don't have anything to say. I know -- gasp -- a writer with nothing to say!! Well, face it, I'm only human.

Work is extra busy, I'm hosting two parties this weekend and my biggest complaint is that it appears the Counting Crows have stopped producing new material all together. They haven't had an album out since I last went to Klamath Falls for Thanksgiving, which was at least 4 years ago. Get with it, people!

I'm growing cucumbers and basil on my balcony. What good is a balcony if you can't grow plants in the summer? Last year I *attempted* to grow tomatoes and cucumbers. Steve graciously brought me a tomato plant all the way to work from the Takoma Park farmers market and then I went on vacation, neglecting the poor thing, and when I got back they were both scorched to death. That must be an unpleasant way to go -- wasting in the summer sun while your once loving owner ignores you. I did promise myself I would never subject a plant to my lack of responsibility again, so either I've grown up and think I can handle taking care of something other than myself, or I've lied to myself and the plants will suffer for it. So far, I'm happy to report that they are doing well. I even planted them from seed. The cucumbers are now almost 5 inches tall and the basil is soon going to garnish one of the best sandwiches ever made.

For anyone who's keeping track, the building next door is up to floor 11! Yikes. They are moving along with that project. I will start posting photos now of the progress, because it's pretty interesting. And soon the madness of them hammering at 7am will be a figment of my memory. Safely locked away.

Word of the Day: Mawkish

mawk·ish ( P ) Pronunciation Key (môksh)
adj.
Excessively and objectionably sentimental.
Sickening or insipid in taste.

I won't get all sentimental right now because it's still 3 months away, but my good and most worthy friend Todd Bullock, known to some of you as Tofu Todd, and still others as The Rancid Goat, has just today been posted with the foreign service to Afghanistan. He will leave in September and I will miss him dearly. I do hope that The Rancid Goat returns with Tales from Over There, or something similar. If you only knew the sort of messes the Rancid Goat gets himself into...

Just this weekend Todd and I found ourselves trapped in the most pretentious club in all of D.C. The place was crawling with metrosexuals, Euro-trash and way too many bums and boobs about to precariously unveil themselves. While waiting in line to get in, three nice looking gentlemen sidled up to a group of single women, just so they could get in. Apprently there were too many men inside. "This is my kinda place," I said to Todd. However, it took approximately three seconds to realize it was neither my kind of place nor my kind of people who were in there.

We hung around for exactly 45 excrutiatingly long minutes before bailing for the comforts of a less artificial environment. Clydes, with its regular drinks, calm atmosphere and sports playing on mute above the bar, suited us much better than the bizarre alter-world we'd stepped into earlier. Just where do these people come from? They aren't all that attractive (this isn't NYC, after all) and why does a bottle of Grey Goose cost $200??

Anyway, this story just illustrates why Todd is a good friend that I will miss greatly. I can, at the last minute, drag him to a place neither of us will like, and he will still stick around for Clyde's.

Todd. You rock.

Word of the Day: Vexatious

vex·a·tious ( P ) Pronunciation Key (vk-sshs)
adj.
Causing or creating vexation; annoying.
Full of annoyance or distress; harassed.
Intended to vex or annoy.

You know those kind of flip flops people wear that make incredible noise when you walk -- thunk, thunk, thunk?

An earlier conversation with coworker:

Ali: Are those your flip-flops I keep hearing?

Me: Even you suggesting that hurts me violently. I am about ready to go chop off that woman's feet. If she doesn't stop walking around in those things, I'm going to have to quit.

What is wrong with society that we must wear shoes that clearly serve no purpose but to annoy the hell out of coworkers as you thunk thunk thunk down the hall, back and forth, in and out of the kitchen, to the bathroom, to the printer, back to your desk. Lady, you're HURTING me!

This post on a blog I found has exactly the comments I want to make about flip flops, except if I posted all my complaints about them on here, you'd probably all stop reading because you'd think I was a lunatic. (P.S. I'm only crazy when it comes to strange and annoying office noises.) Here's my favorite comment:

Flip flops are hell for me. You know that *thing* that just drives you up the wall for no discernable reason and makes you want to rip off heads and scream and you have to look at pictures of cute baby animals until you calm down? Yep, that’s flip flops for me. Both the thwap-thwap when they pick up their feet and the skoosh-skoosh when they don’t. Aiee.

Addition: Perfect, the Washington Post doesn't like flip flops either!

Flip-flop defenders like to point to how comfortable they are. You know what? So are pajamas. And bathrobes. But you don't see your co-workers rolling up to the office in tank tops and flannel pants, do you?

Hot!

It's predicted to be 92 degrees today. That's fabulous. Don't get me wrong. I love warm weather. However, with weather changes comes the inevitable days worth of suffering in this office because whoever runs the temperature is incompetent.

Right now it is 80 degrees outside. But it is 82 degrees in the building. How does this occur? Do they get kicks out of turning up the heat just before the poor workers come back from the long weekend? "Burn um out!" Or is it the bosses making this decision? "We can't fire them, so we'll just make them sweat a little."

My coworker was locked out of her storage shed over the weekend and couldn't get her summer clothes out so she is currently wearing long sleeves and heavy wool pants. At least I'm not her. Darn it's hot.

Word of the Day: Abandoned

So here it is, the Friday before Memorial Day weekend and I am the only -- yes, the only -- person still in the office. My coworkers mostly all took the day off. That's fine. Except, they let us out early today, as the goverment sometimes does, and because my lovely coworkers are not here to do their jobs, I must stay and do their jobs for them before I can leave. Now when they said they were taking the day off, I didn't know this would keep me from taking part in the early release. Now I'm bummed.

It's quiet in here. And I'm a little scared. Deserted cubes and empty office air is a little worrisome to me. Who knows what could happen in an office when you're alone. All the lights might shut off soon, actually, because they are on a sensor and the only thing in the room that is moving is my fingers on the keyboard.

Oh how I despise the Photo of the Day.

To keep myself busy in the deserted realm of my pitiful existence in this office, I am looking up old Top Ten lists. Here's a good one for the weekend.

Top Ten Signs A Guest At Your Memorial Day Barbecue Is A Spy

10. He introduces himself as "00-Larry."

9. Keeps whispering into the potato salad.

8. Embarrassing slip up -- refers to A-1 Sauce as "The B-1 Bomber."

7. Seems oddly knowledgeable about who wants a burger and who wants a hot dog.

6. Kid who beats him in sack race sent to Siberian prison.

5. Asks if the hibachi has a gyroscopic laser guidance system.

4. Wears an apron which reads, "Kiss the spy."

3. You ask him how he likes his burger -- he bites down on a cyanide tablet.

2. After a couple drinks starts telling you nuclear launch codes.

1. He seems awfully interested in the Titan missiles you keep in the shed.

Word of the Day: Apocryphal

a·poc·ry·phal
Of questionable authorship or authenticity.
Erroneous; fictitious
Apocryphal Bible. Of or having to do with the Apocrypha.

Get this. A man is suing the Catholic Church for proof that Jesus existed.

I'm not kidding. It's on CNN.

He says the church is doing a lot of harm by continuing to profess that the man they build their credibility on is in fact not all that credible. He argues that all the historical proof of Jesus is not exactly "historical" but is merely fictional representations used to write a book, The Bible. He calls it a "con" and an abuse of the public's faith, the claim that Jesus ever existed. He calls Jesus a fictional "character", a mythical figure used to tell parables.

Use some common sense, man! Are you saying that Jesus is Coyote??

He sued a priest because he couldn't sue the Pope. The case was then stopped because the prosecutor said there was no evidence to take the process farther because there was no way to confirm or confute the claim that Jesus was who the church professes he is. The church claims there is evidence in the gospels and in Greek and Jewish histories. But this man claims that the gospels cannot prove Jesus.

Okay, I tend to agree with him that the Bible cannot prove the Bible. Many times the church uses this sort of circular reasoning. But it seems to me there are enough historical accounts of Jesus outside of church documents, including the sarcophogus of James, Jesus' brother, which states "James, brother of Jesus" on the side in script.

But let's assume Jesus was not real, that he was indeed a mythical figure. Darn. Millions and millions of people are going to feel pretty stupid upon death when they find this out for themselves. The thing is, I'd rather spend a lifetime believing in a fairytale then an eternity burning in hell.

An Ode to Elliot

Elliot...

This cool guy came to visit last week after spending the past year in the Israeli Army, which he enlisted himself into voluntarily in 2004. Why? I like to think he got bored of his job or he hated his friends or something (impossible seeing as we *are* his friends) ... but I think he just wanted to do something good with himself.

Maybe I should give Elliot a code name so I don't give away his identity in cyberspace. Only problem is I can't think of a good enough name. Michelle and I went to New York City in 2003 with Elliot to crash a party his friends were throwing. We had the best time and coincidentally came up with a title for a very interesting book "A British Guy on the Jersey Turnpike". And believe me, you don't ever want to come across one of those. Scary.

So anyway, that's the whole story. I told him I was going to take this photo and he wasn't all that happy about it, but this is why I took your picture, Elliot. We must preserve the memories. Just forget about that last shot we made you do. Big mistake. I hope you don't hate us.

Word of the Day: Conflate

conflate \kuhn-FLAYT\, transitive verb:
1. To bring together; to fuse together; to join or meld.
2. To combine into one whole.

This weekend was so much fun. In order to illustrate, I must use photos. So welcome to my weekend slideshow:

First was Barb's Big Backyard BBQ: Barb is my awesome coworker. We all drove down to Fredericksburg to her amazing dream home that they built. It's gorgeous. The best part about the BBQ, aside from the yummy food and the good company, was that Michelle, Dida and I were together again.



And the bad part about Barb's party was the traffic. It took approximately 45 minutes to get there, and about 2.5 hours to get back. Therefore, I was a bit, okay a lot, late for Lindsey's birthday party. I don't have a photo of this stop. We went to her house for a bit and then out to Eleventh in Arlington (which I love) but I had a hard time loving it this time due to a HUGE headache that refused to go away.

And that brings us to Sunday. We had an awesome social with the best group of guys, our good friends, the Apples group. Why do we call them the Apples group? It has something to do with a game we played once. Anyway, I was asked how I met this group and it occured to me that it would make a good book. The first line would be "It all started on a boat on the Sea of Galilee." However it began, the Apples group is great fun. The BBQ was fabulous. The weather was perfect (mostly because we *thought* it would rain and it didn't). The company was great. And best of all, there was a bag and a half of charcoal leftover so I guess that means there are more BBQs in our future.

SCREEN ON THE GREEN

Screen on the Green starts July 17!!! Who's coming with me?

Word of the Day: Cliche

cli·ché also cliche ( P ) Pronunciation Key (kl-sh)
n.
A trite or overused expression or idea
A person or character whose behavior is predictable or superficial

Yesterday I skipped work to attend the Writer's Digest Writer's Conference in conjuction with the Book Expo of America. I was thrilled that Jerry B. Jenkins was there as the keynote speaker. He had a lot of insightful things to say, and a little bit of encouragement to the hopefuls in the audience. I don't know what I was expecting really -- possibly just some motivation and encouragement. I did come away with some of that, although most of the stuff I learned I already knew. I know that being a writer of anything these days means that you're going to have to wait through numerous rejections before getting published, if you ever do. I know that even when you do, oftentimes the product is not exactly what you expected. But I also know that to not write is not a choice for many writers. Me included. If I did not write, I would not be me. It's how I define myself and how I share myself with the world. Some people are able to express themselves to other people through discussion, and others express themselves through art, like painting and drawing and acting. To not put words on paper is like suffocating me with a heavy hand.

The only really crazy part was the lunch speaker who claimed that no one has original thoughts and we are actually making ourselves stupider by succumbing to what he calls "dimwitticisms". These dimwitticisms are colloquial and cliched andm etaphorical phrases that we say just by force of habit, such as "a dime a dozen" "piece of cake" "just in the knick of time" etc. The guy rattled off a hundred phrases we use everyday, and though they are undoubtedly overused and somewhat dim, there is no possible way to write and/or speak without using one. Try it. It's impossible. In any case (another dimwitticism) it would be just as vexing to try to speak without them as it is to use them repeatedly. Consider this sentence: The conference ran like clockwork, on the other hand, there was a heated debate over metaphors. If I were trying to avoid these dimwitticisms and replace them with original thoughts so I don't force my reader to become stupider, the sentence would have to look something like this: The conference was successful in that there were no problems and each activity pleased the attendees. Several conference attendees quarrelled about the overuse and/or misuse of specific phrases that make use of another object as a similar comparison for the original thought. Wouldn't you much prefer I just say it rather than muck it all up like that?

One thing I learned is that having a blog is quite beneficial to your eventual writing career so at least I have a headstart on that.

Hawaii

I realized that I never mentioned Hawaii on the blog when I got back except to say that life had gone completely back to normal the second I stepped off the plane. Ignoring the subject on my blog is a little like ignoring my wet and dirty shoes that were sufficiently wrapped in a plastic bag. I just discovered the bag yesterday and the shoes, I discovered, were encased in mold. Nothing a tumble in the washer can't fix. So I figure if I at least post some photos on my blog, it'll be a little like ridding the shoes of mold.



Michelle and I sat underneath this palm tree contemplating how much better life in Hawaii is than life in Washington DC. I could come up with a full list of reasons, but most of you already know them. So I'll spare you. Needless to say, one of the reasons is this very palm tree. And another is this:


The World's Best Mai Tai.

Word of the Day: Cotton

Oh how I wish I were laying between my lovely cotton sheets right now sleeping blissfully. Getting out of bed at 8am this morning was *not* a good idea.

But my comfy bed not what this entry is about, sadly. It's about cotton. Not the noun, but the verb. Who knew cotton could be used as a verb? Timoni pointed this out to me this morning and I feel it is important enough to tell the world about. You may have been living your life all this time without knowing you could use the word cotton as a verb in your vocabularly, thus severly limiting the amount of things you *could* be saying if you adopted it's use. So here is how you can add the cotton to your lexicon.

intr.v. cot·toned, cot·ton·ing, cot·tons

To take a liking; attempt to be friendly: a dog that didn't cotton to strangers; an administration that will cotton up to the most repressive of regimes.

To come to understand. Often used with to or onto: “The German bosses... never cottoned to such changes”

From now on, you can say things like "I cotton you" instead of the bland and overused "I like you".

"I cottoned him, he started to cotton me back" to show your compassionate attempt at friendship towards another.

The possibilities are endless that you'll start cottoning the word and will begin using it with frequency.

Word of the Day: Crapulous

crapulous \KRAP-yuh-lus\, adjective:
1. Suffering the effects of, or derived from, or suggestive of gross intemperance, especially in drinking; as, a crapulous stomach.
2. Marked by gross intemperance, especially in drinking; as, a crapulous old reprobate

I've left the sunshine, the white sandy beaches and the fruity drinks of Hawaii in exchange for the life I've, for some unknown reason, opted to build for myself in Washington, D.C. I contemplated staying in Hawaii. I've designed a plan which would allow me to live in Hawaii year-round and generate enough cash to basically buy my own island if I chose to do so. My only hang-up with the plan is that it would require me to work early morning hours, and we all know that I'm incapable of doing that. Judging by the fact that I've missed the bus two mornings in a row, I don't see being able to pull off this plan of mine. But perhaps when I live in Hawaii I won't care what time of the morning I have to get up. Because I… live in… Hawaii. ALOHA!

Last night was another David Shelby ATM party. This one was a rager. I'm surprised that half of the participants are even alive today, much less at work. A bottle of expensive tequila was given to Tofu Todd as a parting gift and it was summarily drained within half an hour. I was not "crapulous" last night, but so many were that I feel it's necessary to use the word because it's just so fitting. I particularly enjoy the "gross intemperance" part because that's the whole crux of the ATM (Anti-Temperance Monday). But drinking six tequila shots after work on Monday when you've had no dinner and must attend work the next day is probably a pretty crapulous thing to do.

Hawaii: The runon sentence

Consider this notice of the fact that I will not be around to update the blog beginning Saturday morning and continuing through the following Sunday due to the fact that I will be vacationing in the sun on the white sandy beaches of Hawaii for an entire week, completely and utterly devoid of a schedule or any other form of mundane and useless work and I won't feel bad about it at all, not even a little bit, not even when I think of you back here working at your desk hour after hour, bored out of your mind, wishing you could be on the white sandy beaches of Hawaii when instead you have ample time to update your own blog and probably no remaining vacation days because you already wasted them on useless "pretend sick days" and therefore can't leave your little comfortable desk chair for approximately nine more months while you earn what few days you can in order to take just half a week's vacation, which you'll probably spend doing something like moving to a new apartment, which might as well be work anyway, and I probably won't bring you back anything from Hawaii either because I'm too poor now that I took a week off and paid for the airfare and the hotel, so don't expect any big jars of macadamia nuts or Kona Coffee because if I give you anything al all it'll probably be a really big picture of me vacationing in the sun on the white sandy beaches of Hawaii without you.

Aloha!