Threshold

Threshold

I never thought I would want kids (unless they were served with a nice white sauce and a side of broccoli), but now I'm thinking it would be fun to tell them they'd better settle down cuz "I'm reachin' my threshold!" For the rest of their poor lives they wouldn't be able to hear a story of someone crossing a threshold without thinking of punishment. (Heh heh, serves 'em right for bein' kids.) 


Then I was thinking that I'm surprised romance writers don't use it - especially once we all know that the lovers are destined to be joined both here and in the hereafter.* 

     He kissed her tenderly, removing her bodice with his pearly white teeth. As he explored her womanhood he could feel his baton of manhood start to pulse in expectation.
    "Oh, Oureole," he looked deep into her bright blues with his limpid browns, "I must have you, you must be myne!"
     "Yes, Lance," Oureole put a hand to her fevered forehead, "before I invite you to cross my threshold, how can I be sure of your love?"
     "Oureole, I have traveled in time from the Renaissance to the French Revolution to today - June 27, 1885. I have been a wolf, a bat, and an armadillo. How can you question me?"
     "Oh, Lance, cross myne threshold! Cross myne threshold and sing sweet songs in my parlour!"

Now isn't that nice? Women in these books will no longer be known as virgins, but as Women with Thresholds Uncross'd. 


*Or is it 'thereafter'? I mean really, 'hereafter' makes no sense - they're no longer here, they're there....duh.

Bedizen

Bedizen

I may live up to some of the gay stereotypes,* but the whole fashion and decor thing is just not me. When the Main Only Squeeze and I started dating, lo those many years ago, he needed to buy a suit. We went to the mall, spent probably twenty minutes looking around at which point he said, "I'm done. I'll look more later."

YES!! He likes shopping as much as I do - not very stinkin' much! At that exact moment I knew I was on my way to falling for him.**

But, just for the heck of it, I may take a strand of my DNA in to some PhD candidate who needs a project and have take a look at it - see what makes me not have that particular gene.

OK, so I don't have too much to say, but instead, I think we should spend a few minutes with Madge***. "Why Madge?" you may query. Because she has a song with a title now officially changed (at least in my world) to "Bedizen You." Everyone sing, "gonna bedizen you in my love!" Society could be so much more eloquent if songwriters used their thesauri more. And seriously, nothing says 'bedizen' more than Madge in the 80s.

*You can guess which ones...heh heh...
**It may actually have been before then. Or maybe after. I can't remember, it was lo, those many years ago and all that.
***Another stereotype to which I do not live up.

Nebbish

Nebbish

When I first saw the word, I thought (OK fine, I assumed) it was an adjective and said to myneself, "Wow, what a great word to turn into a noun!" Then I found out it already is a noun. Well, screw it, I'm turning it into an adjective! A more complete definition has the adjective as being "nebbishy," which makes sense (I guess), but is just silly. This is a word which should be a part of every wine/food reviewer's repertoire. "I just don't know what's going on at this winery. A few decades ago their product was of the highest quality, if not a bit redundant. However, in the ensuing years, their wine has swung between indecisiveness and just plain disconcertiveness. This year's tedious output is a new low, being nothing more than nebbish with undercurrents of apathy."


OK, so I need to get serious (yea, I know, surprise me, too). A couple days ago it came out that yet another young teenager killed himself because he was bullied so much for being gay. In the off chance that some young gay kid, or anyone who's "different" and gets harassed is reading this, don't be a nebbish!! Stop believing what people tell you. You're not a bad person; no universal deity hates you. You are exactly the way you're supposed to be. To me, the more "different" you are, the more cool you are. I love being different! I love seeing life differently than the mainstream. That's why I write this blog - to celebrate the fact that I am not one of those mainstream types that only listens to top 40 and sees only movies that are playing at the suburban megaplex (no offense to those who do). The further you are away from the mainstream the more interesting you are! If someone says "You're a ____" Even if you don't say it to them loudly, just whisper to yourself, "So?" and shrug a shoulder. Because so what if you are what they say you are? Who gives a shit? They're jealous cuz you're gonna have fun and they're gonna be stuck in some boring life, living in a house the color of Band-Aid. So repeat after me:

"I will not be a nebbsih!"

louder

I will NOT be a NEBBISH!"

LOUDER

"I WILL NOT BE A NEBBISH!"

Again!


"I WILL NOT BE A NEBBISH!"

Good job.

Piquant

Piquant

In looking at the pronunciation of today's word and being completely confused - as is my wont* - I ended up listening to the audio to make sure I was pronouncing it right. Every time I've heard this word pronounced, people have said pee-kwaunt'. Now these Merriam-Webster know-it-all types come along and pronounce it pee'-kint. As in, "Hey, what's that peekin(t)' outa yer ear, a drag queen?**" Such a letdown.

You know what? I blame it on the French. They think they're so cool sticking all those needless letters in that never get said. It's like those unpronounceable Slavic names: "Stavloshzhchthisky" which ends up being pronounced sta-vlisky."

Alright fine. You know, o' myne faithful reader, that I love silent letters. I love how "Worcestershire" is pronounced. All those letters and we end up with "Wore-steh-sher." That's beautiful! OH! and I see in Wikipedia that the abbreviation is Worcs. How cool is that? I don't use the sauce very much, but I may have to start just so I can say "Do we/you have any Worcs?" OH OH OH!! We have an authentic fish n chips place in town owned by POHMs! I'm gonna have to go there, order something, and then say "Pardon me, but would you happen to have some Worcs?" Boy, will THEY be impressed by my continentalality! That's right, no one can call me incontinent!

*At least, you know, once in a while.
**See yesterday's post.

Four-flush

Four-flush

So I was thinking - oh crap, the dryer just went off, be right back.

Sorry about that. Anyway, I was thinking about what to write today, and I can't remember what it was, but I was gonna bitch about something like I did on Friday. It struck me however that doing a blog, especially one like this where even I don't know WTH I'm gonna write when I sit down, could very easily turn into a bitchalogoue.* Of course, I have no idea who my reader is and maybe s/he would like to hear me bitch. But, well, life is just too short. Drama. Who needs it?

What I really wanted to say was that I found the perfect cure to writer's block: make the choice either writing or dusting. I had nothing to say until I realized I needed to get cleaning, and suddenly ideas were coming out of my ears like drag queens during the last weekend of June.**

I always like to put a movie on when I clean. I find it's better than music because I can take little breaks and look at the screen while not completely quitting what I'm doing. I have certain movies for certain things - I put on It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World when I make Thanksgiving dinner, because nothing says the start of the holiday season like Ethel Merman shouting "Just like your father - a big stupid muscle-headed moron!"

I always used to iron to the original King Kong. "Looks like something from the...dinosaur family!" "Everyone knows you're sku-way-uh...Denham!" "Don't worry, folks, these chains are made of chrome steel!" So many great lines! That's one of my favorite things about the Peter Jackson version - all the reused lines. So great!! Oh, and yea

Anyway, right now I have on Koyaanisqatsi. A great movie, but absolutely no memorable lines. How does that happen??

I need to dust, that's all there is to it.

Oh, and as far as the word of the day is concerned, if 'tweren't for four-flushing, I wouldn't be able to carry on a conversation.***

*Or as the say in Russian: Bitchalogue. Oh looky there, according to Google translate it's the same in Russian as in English. Cool!
**Wow, talk about a bad mixed metaphor. "Get the hell outa there, you drag queens - whachu doing livin' in myne ears??"
***Or was that sentence just me four-flushing??? Hmmmmm...

querulous

querulous

So I'm looking at today's word and I'm thinking to myneself, I'm thinking, myneself, I'm thinking, what if yer a three-trick pony and have nothing else to say? I mean...I'm at a loss! It's a nightmare come true.

I have nothing to say.

Alright, so I'm sitting here (yet) an hour later thinking of the writing I should be doing and blah blah blah, but what am I doing? I'm not even doing something as constructive as reading - I'm playing friggin' Bubbletown! What the what what?

So I think to mynself (don't worry, I won't go through all that again), maybe I'll blame it on the weather. I don't know about anywhere else, but where I live, people LOVE to blame everything on the weather. "I don't know what it is; I'm tired and I'm just not feeling quite right today...it must be the weather!" What the hell are you talking about? It's 75 F (23.9 C)! How the hell can a perfect day with sunshine and not a cloud in the sky make you feel tired and not right? People say that and I just want to get...querulous!

Oh well, lookee there, I do have something to say...whoodah known...

Tragus

Tragus

When I was in high school, there was a class - it must have been English related somehow, but I can't remember, because it was, uh, 20 years ago - yea, that's it, 20 years ago...where we had a section on the history of the Theah-tuh. (As in "I don't DO movies, I am of the  Thea-tuh!!") It was a great section and I loved learning about the Greeks and Romans and all that - in fact, since then, thanks to the history of popular culture, I actually care about history!! Hated it in school! But the really odd part was that we learned the parts of the ear - as in biology. My entire schooling career I avoided all the math and science I could, and then I suddenly get it in a theatre class. What the what??? At the time, of course, I (or anyone else) never thought to question it, but, while I can't remember anything about the biological make-up of the ear, I can certainly remember the befuddlement of having to learn it. Oh yea, and I remember doing poorly on the test for it. But when it comes to the ear, probably the most important thing I've learned in my life is that you should never EVER stick a hat pin in your ear even if you have an itch way down deep inside there. Just don't do it!

But anyway, this won’t be a surprise to my long-term reader, but I love that tragus (another word not in the Firefox dictionary - see how they are) comes from he-goat and also gave us 'tragedy.' Who woulda guessed that one?  Language is so bizarre.