i've had two things plaguing me lately that annoy the bejeezus out of me. that's right, the bejeezus. so here i shall post them and encourage you to be annoyed by them, too:
first is the use of the phrase 'PIN number.' this translates, when the acronym is lengthened, to 'personal identification number number.' AHH! unacceptable!
the other is the severe mispronunciation of a certain word. in order to make it a bit more interesting than just revealing said word, i'll give a few examples of it's misuse:
"yes, i'm looking for information on a very pacific type of toenail fungus."
or
"hey buster, i've got some pacific questions for you."
in case you haven't figured it out, this is a bastardization of the word 'specific.' a horrible, horrible contortion. how do these people think 'specific' is actually spelled?? do they even know the word 'specific' exists, or do they think that 'pacific' just has multiple meanings?
ugh. heinous.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Saturday, February 9, 2008
dewey decimal system
if i hear one more lame joke about learning the dewey decimal system when people find out i'm in graduate school to become a librarian, i will dewey decimate the person who says it. seriously.
i don't even USE the dewey decimal system, so there. take that.
someday, when i'm not so lazy, i'll write a lengthier post about what it is library students--and come to think of it, librarians in general--actually do. but for today, the mystery will remain. just realize it has very little do with that cursed Melville Dewey.
i don't even USE the dewey decimal system, so there. take that.
someday, when i'm not so lazy, i'll write a lengthier post about what it is library students--and come to think of it, librarians in general--actually do. but for today, the mystery will remain. just realize it has very little do with that cursed Melville Dewey.
identity theft, anyone?
i recently had to apply for a social security card due to an exciting mugging i experienced about 3 years ago.
the purpose of this post is to tell you how dumb the social security administration is, but first, i suppose i'll tell you about the aforementioned street crime.
my mother, step-father, and step-sister were headed out for an enjoyable evening at the dixie classic fair in winston-salem.
for those of you not from our great state, let me tell you a bit about our delightfully hickish sights to see at the fair. there are impressive livestock displays, in which you are more than welcome to bid on and purchase beasts should you spot yourself a fine sow or rooster. other events include pig races and tractor pulls. pig races are exactly what they sound like, and i'm not going to lie--they're awesome. tractor pulls are basically displays of brute engine strength, as tractors try to pull heavy things behind them in a muddy arena. they inadvertently pop tractor wheelies when they're just not tough enough to handle it. think of it as a really slow, low impact monster truck rally. we also have the standard assortment of rickety fair rides, rip-off games, large, spooky stuffed animals, and unsavory 'carnies.' i'm not certain that 'carnie' is a politically correct term -- so forgive any offense. you can clog your arteries to your heart's content (HA) with delicacies such as deep-fried candy bars, elephant ears, cotton candy, and those barbaric looking turkey legs -- all of which is delicious. it really is a grand ol' time.
so this is what we were all expecting as we made our way to the dixie classic -- an evening of gluttony, smelly livestock (which everyone in my family loves--seriously), and rides that made you fear for your life. good times to be had by all.
i suppose i should've realized things might not be headed in that direction when we parked on a street called 'boneyard road.' this avenue was at least 1/3 of a mile from the fairgrounds, and was 'patrolled' by a shifty fellow wearing a non-descript orange t-shirt who claimed said parking area was secure. secure from what? folks besides him who might try to rob my car? i had my doubts, but since the step-sibling (cherisse) and i were following my parents in a separate car, and they were paying for parking, i didn't argue.
sigh.
we arrived around 7:30 or so, and everything was fine. we enjoyed viewing pygmy goats and eating bratwursts and such for about 2 hours. at that point, my parents decided to head out, and cherisse and i decided to be bad-ass late-stage adolescents and stay out. i was 20, cherisse was 17. we could handle this shit.
or not.
as the evening wore on, the crowd became rougher. i smelled pot a couple of times, but chose not to be alarmed because my experiences with potheads is that they're quite docile. in my experiences with marijuana i could hardly move, except to shove the third full sized sheet cake into my mouth, so i figured we were in no danger. i saw a couple of cops break up fights and such. all of this should've been our cue to leave. but alas, we stayed. until around 11:30.
the crowd was ready to rumble at that point. we'd received a couple of racial slurs (in the end, probably a good lesson for me to learn what it feels like to truly be judged for things i can't control) and there were more fights. we decided it was probably (way past) time to go.
this is the point at which i must say that my step-sister has better instincts than me. way better. cherisse suggested that we might have an officer walk us to our car. i responded with a very bad-ass "sure, if you want to, that's cool. either way is fine with me." so nonchalant in the face of gangs. booya. i suppose that since i seemed comfortable doing the walk alone, cherisse decided to go along with it.
so we elected to brave it ourselves. we made it to the jeep we were driving, and i immediately saw that the window was busted out and the CD player missing. now, this is the first time i'd ever really been confronted with something that could induce absolute panic. not because i was worried about the CD player (the thief might score a big $5 off that), but because i'd never been confronted with any sort of crime or violence or thing such as that. but, being a bad-ass and all, i became very centered (i'm the least centered person on the planet), and calmly told cherisse to get in the jeep so we could get on home.
i noodled the keys to the jeep out of my purse to unlock the door. the keyless entry was broken, of course. as i approached the side of the jeep, some asshat ran up behind me and grabbed me, at which point i screamed at him to take the purse and just kinda tossed it away from me. although it's more fun to say i threw it at him. that's right, i'll teach you!
needless to say, that was the end of the purse, which contained: both of our cell phones, my wallet, all of our money, and probably some super cool lipsmackers lip gloss and a tampon or two. thank GOD we had the keys out and could drive away, because i kid you not when i say that someone pushing a stroller saw all this happen and did nothing. yikes.
after that, we headed home, unharmed, and me still CREEPILY calm (those of you who know me can attest that this is rather unusual). it was a less than pleasant departure from the coliseum/fairgrounds, as we received many a racial slur through the window that was no more. but we made it home in one piece, at which point we roused the parents (who flipped out, naturally). i was not interested in filing a police report, because i felt confident that the officers had more pressing matters at hand, but my dear mother made me. then she got mad because i flirted on the phone with the officer who took the report till 3 am. woops.
as you may have guessed, i never did see that purse again. many things were lost, including my social security card. so, um, don't carry your social in your wallet. at the time i was genuinely more pissed that the $120 i had made at lonestar steakhouse waiting tables the night before had been nabbed. and that's probably the only thing the hoodlum who stole my purse used, anyway.
right, so now we're actually nearing the point of the story. first of all, my identity theoretically could've been stolen at that point. i've never been much of a worrier, thankfully, and by keeping an eye on the ol' credit report i've known that i stayed in the clear since then and have also managed to avoid a nervous breakdown. but there's really not much that can be done if your SSN is stolen -- it's not like the government will assign you a new one. just monitor that shit.
so finally, i decided after three years that it was time to get a new card. i went to the social security office in durham with all my info and applied. it was a lot less painful than i thought it would be. w00t.
now here, at long last, is the crazy part, and the purpose of this entire post.
think of all the money, time, and energy people spend trying to protect their identities and guard their social security numbers. there are companies out there making millions off of people's outrageous fear of identity theft. it's an entire industry.
would you like to know how i received my social security card?
via regular, non-certified USPS mail, in an envelope clearly labeled with the return address SOCIAL SECURITY ADMINISTRATION. what. the. hell. perhaps they'd like to re-label it 'steal me, it's just so damn easy.'
as if that weren't bad enough, it was in one of those envelopes with a window made of clear plastic so the pre-printed address could show from a piece of paper inside the envelope, and if you shook the envelope, YOU COULD SEE THE EDGE OF MY SOCIAL SECURITY CARD.
surely you all see that this is absolutely asinine. now it's your job to go get angry about it and tell someone. and be sure, along the way, to tell everyone that you found out about this through a witty blog, the author of which should be given her own column in some publication and swiftly syndicated. good talk.
so um, yeah. i wouldn't advise losing--or reordering--a social security card, if you can help it.
the purpose of this post is to tell you how dumb the social security administration is, but first, i suppose i'll tell you about the aforementioned street crime.
my mother, step-father, and step-sister were headed out for an enjoyable evening at the dixie classic fair in winston-salem.
for those of you not from our great state, let me tell you a bit about our delightfully hickish sights to see at the fair. there are impressive livestock displays, in which you are more than welcome to bid on and purchase beasts should you spot yourself a fine sow or rooster. other events include pig races and tractor pulls. pig races are exactly what they sound like, and i'm not going to lie--they're awesome. tractor pulls are basically displays of brute engine strength, as tractors try to pull heavy things behind them in a muddy arena. they inadvertently pop tractor wheelies when they're just not tough enough to handle it. think of it as a really slow, low impact monster truck rally. we also have the standard assortment of rickety fair rides, rip-off games, large, spooky stuffed animals, and unsavory 'carnies.' i'm not certain that 'carnie' is a politically correct term -- so forgive any offense. you can clog your arteries to your heart's content (HA) with delicacies such as deep-fried candy bars, elephant ears, cotton candy, and those barbaric looking turkey legs -- all of which is delicious. it really is a grand ol' time.
so this is what we were all expecting as we made our way to the dixie classic -- an evening of gluttony, smelly livestock (which everyone in my family loves--seriously), and rides that made you fear for your life. good times to be had by all.
i suppose i should've realized things might not be headed in that direction when we parked on a street called 'boneyard road.' this avenue was at least 1/3 of a mile from the fairgrounds, and was 'patrolled' by a shifty fellow wearing a non-descript orange t-shirt who claimed said parking area was secure. secure from what? folks besides him who might try to rob my car? i had my doubts, but since the step-sibling (cherisse) and i were following my parents in a separate car, and they were paying for parking, i didn't argue.
sigh.
we arrived around 7:30 or so, and everything was fine. we enjoyed viewing pygmy goats and eating bratwursts and such for about 2 hours. at that point, my parents decided to head out, and cherisse and i decided to be bad-ass late-stage adolescents and stay out. i was 20, cherisse was 17. we could handle this shit.
or not.
as the evening wore on, the crowd became rougher. i smelled pot a couple of times, but chose not to be alarmed because my experiences with potheads is that they're quite docile. in my experiences with marijuana i could hardly move, except to shove the third full sized sheet cake into my mouth, so i figured we were in no danger. i saw a couple of cops break up fights and such. all of this should've been our cue to leave. but alas, we stayed. until around 11:30.
the crowd was ready to rumble at that point. we'd received a couple of racial slurs (in the end, probably a good lesson for me to learn what it feels like to truly be judged for things i can't control) and there were more fights. we decided it was probably (way past) time to go.
this is the point at which i must say that my step-sister has better instincts than me. way better. cherisse suggested that we might have an officer walk us to our car. i responded with a very bad-ass "sure, if you want to, that's cool. either way is fine with me." so nonchalant in the face of gangs. booya. i suppose that since i seemed comfortable doing the walk alone, cherisse decided to go along with it.
so we elected to brave it ourselves. we made it to the jeep we were driving, and i immediately saw that the window was busted out and the CD player missing. now, this is the first time i'd ever really been confronted with something that could induce absolute panic. not because i was worried about the CD player (the thief might score a big $5 off that), but because i'd never been confronted with any sort of crime or violence or thing such as that. but, being a bad-ass and all, i became very centered (i'm the least centered person on the planet), and calmly told cherisse to get in the jeep so we could get on home.
i noodled the keys to the jeep out of my purse to unlock the door. the keyless entry was broken, of course. as i approached the side of the jeep, some asshat ran up behind me and grabbed me, at which point i screamed at him to take the purse and just kinda tossed it away from me. although it's more fun to say i threw it at him. that's right, i'll teach you!
needless to say, that was the end of the purse, which contained: both of our cell phones, my wallet, all of our money, and probably some super cool lipsmackers lip gloss and a tampon or two. thank GOD we had the keys out and could drive away, because i kid you not when i say that someone pushing a stroller saw all this happen and did nothing. yikes.
after that, we headed home, unharmed, and me still CREEPILY calm (those of you who know me can attest that this is rather unusual). it was a less than pleasant departure from the coliseum/fairgrounds, as we received many a racial slur through the window that was no more. but we made it home in one piece, at which point we roused the parents (who flipped out, naturally). i was not interested in filing a police report, because i felt confident that the officers had more pressing matters at hand, but my dear mother made me. then she got mad because i flirted on the phone with the officer who took the report till 3 am. woops.
as you may have guessed, i never did see that purse again. many things were lost, including my social security card. so, um, don't carry your social in your wallet. at the time i was genuinely more pissed that the $120 i had made at lonestar steakhouse waiting tables the night before had been nabbed. and that's probably the only thing the hoodlum who stole my purse used, anyway.
right, so now we're actually nearing the point of the story. first of all, my identity theoretically could've been stolen at that point. i've never been much of a worrier, thankfully, and by keeping an eye on the ol' credit report i've known that i stayed in the clear since then and have also managed to avoid a nervous breakdown. but there's really not much that can be done if your SSN is stolen -- it's not like the government will assign you a new one. just monitor that shit.
so finally, i decided after three years that it was time to get a new card. i went to the social security office in durham with all my info and applied. it was a lot less painful than i thought it would be. w00t.
now here, at long last, is the crazy part, and the purpose of this entire post.
think of all the money, time, and energy people spend trying to protect their identities and guard their social security numbers. there are companies out there making millions off of people's outrageous fear of identity theft. it's an entire industry.
would you like to know how i received my social security card?
via regular, non-certified USPS mail, in an envelope clearly labeled with the return address SOCIAL SECURITY ADMINISTRATION. what. the. hell. perhaps they'd like to re-label it 'steal me, it's just so damn easy.'
as if that weren't bad enough, it was in one of those envelopes with a window made of clear plastic so the pre-printed address could show from a piece of paper inside the envelope, and if you shook the envelope, YOU COULD SEE THE EDGE OF MY SOCIAL SECURITY CARD.
surely you all see that this is absolutely asinine. now it's your job to go get angry about it and tell someone. and be sure, along the way, to tell everyone that you found out about this through a witty blog, the author of which should be given her own column in some publication and swiftly syndicated. good talk.
so um, yeah. i wouldn't advise losing--or reordering--a social security card, if you can help it.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
...awesome.
i can't really cite this thing appropriately... beyond the fact that it's from the washington post. this is my mecca:
-- Here are the results of the Washington Post's Mensa Invitational which once
again asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by
adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.
Here are the winners:
1. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject
financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.
2. Ignoranus : A person who's both stupid and an asshole.
3. Intaxication : Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you
realize it was your money to start with.
4. Reintarnation : Coming back to life as a hillbilly.
5. Bozone layer (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops
bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little
sign of breaking down in the near future.
6. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of
getting laid.
7. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
8. Sarchasm : The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person
who doesn't get it.
9. Inoculatte : To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
10. Osteopornosis : A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
11. Karmageddon : It's like, when everybody is sending off all these
really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a
serious bummer.
12. Decafalon (n.): The gruelling event of getting through the day
consuming only things that aren't bad for you.
13. Glibido : All talk and no action.
14. Dopeler effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when
they come at you at high speed.
15. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've
accidentally walked through a spider web.
16. Beelzebug (n.) : Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your
bedroom at three in the morning and will not be cast out.
17. Caterpallor ( n.): The colour you turn after finding half a worm in
the fruit you're eating.
The Washington Post has also published the winning submissions to its
yearly contest in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for
common words. And the winners are!
1. Coffee , n. The person upon whom one coffs.
2. Flabbergasted , adj. Appalled by discovering how much weight one has
gained.
3. Abdicate , v. To give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
4. Esplanade , v. To attempt an explanation while drunk.
5. Willy-nilly , adj. Impotent.
6. Negligent , adj. Absentmindedly answering the door when wearing only
a nightgown.
7. Lymph , v. To walk with a lisp.
8. Gargoyle , n. Olive-flavored mouthwash.
9. Flatulence , n. Emergency vehicle that picks up someone who has been
run over by a steamroller.
10. Balderdash , n. A rapidly receding hairline.
11. Testicle , n. A humorous question on an exam.
12. Rectitude , n. The formal, dignified bearing adopted by
proctologists.
13. Pokemon , n. A Rastafarian proctologist.
14. Oyster , n. A person who sprinkles his conversation with
Yiddishisms.
15. Frisbeetarianism , n. The belief that, after death, the soul flies
up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
16. Circumvent , n. An opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by
Jewish men.
yesssssssssssss
-- Here are the results of the Washington Post's Mensa Invitational which once
again asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by
adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.
Here are the winners:
1. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject
financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.
2. Ignoranus : A person who's both stupid and an asshole.
3. Intaxication : Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you
realize it was your money to start with.
4. Reintarnation : Coming back to life as a hillbilly.
5. Bozone layer (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops
bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little
sign of breaking down in the near future.
6. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of
getting laid.
7. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
8. Sarchasm : The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person
who doesn't get it.
9. Inoculatte : To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
10. Osteopornosis : A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
11. Karmageddon : It's like, when everybody is sending off all these
really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a
serious bummer.
12. Decafalon (n.): The gruelling event of getting through the day
consuming only things that aren't bad for you.
13. Glibido : All talk and no action.
14. Dopeler effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when
they come at you at high speed.
15. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've
accidentally walked through a spider web.
16. Beelzebug (n.) : Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your
bedroom at three in the morning and will not be cast out.
17. Caterpallor ( n.): The colour you turn after finding half a worm in
the fruit you're eating.
The Washington Post has also published the winning submissions to its
yearly contest in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for
common words. And the winners are!
1. Coffee , n. The person upon whom one coffs.
2. Flabbergasted , adj. Appalled by discovering how much weight one has
gained.
3. Abdicate , v. To give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
4. Esplanade , v. To attempt an explanation while drunk.
5. Willy-nilly , adj. Impotent.
6. Negligent , adj. Absentmindedly answering the door when wearing only
a nightgown.
7. Lymph , v. To walk with a lisp.
8. Gargoyle , n. Olive-flavored mouthwash.
9. Flatulence , n. Emergency vehicle that picks up someone who has been
run over by a steamroller.
10. Balderdash , n. A rapidly receding hairline.
11. Testicle , n. A humorous question on an exam.
12. Rectitude , n. The formal, dignified bearing adopted by
proctologists.
13. Pokemon , n. A Rastafarian proctologist.
14. Oyster , n. A person who sprinkles his conversation with
Yiddishisms.
15. Frisbeetarianism , n. The belief that, after death, the soul flies
up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
16. Circumvent , n. An opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by
Jewish men.
yesssssssssssss
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
on footwear
i find that people use and abuse footwear in all sorts of bizarre ways. socks with sandals is perhaps the most common fashion faux pas. hiking boots with shorts are also dangerous territory. any sort of high heeled woman's shoe that still has a platform of some sort is not good, either.
but the worst offense of all, as far as i'm concerned, is the misuse of loafers. there is really only one way to wear loafers for both men and women: in business attire, and perhaps business casual. women can pull of a snazzy loafer either with pants and trousers socks or a skirt/dress and hose. men, with khakis, suit pants, and on very rare occasion, jeans. full length jeans, of course. one should not be wearing jean shorts ("jorts") to begin with, but especially not with loafers.
another important rule in loafer domain for men is that, with the exception of 'sperry's'/topsiders, socks must always be worn with said loafers. always! there is nothing more disgusting than a sweaty foot floating bare in a sleek loafer.
worst case scenario: early 90's silk 'track suit' (usually in pastels) with sockless loafers. i've seen it. david sedaris has noted this atrocity, too. stay away from that. protect friends and family from said error.
oh, and the socks with an individual groove for each toe -- commonly known as 'toe socks' -- should also be avoided.
that is all.
but the worst offense of all, as far as i'm concerned, is the misuse of loafers. there is really only one way to wear loafers for both men and women: in business attire, and perhaps business casual. women can pull of a snazzy loafer either with pants and trousers socks or a skirt/dress and hose. men, with khakis, suit pants, and on very rare occasion, jeans. full length jeans, of course. one should not be wearing jean shorts ("jorts") to begin with, but especially not with loafers.
another important rule in loafer domain for men is that, with the exception of 'sperry's'/topsiders, socks must always be worn with said loafers. always! there is nothing more disgusting than a sweaty foot floating bare in a sleek loafer.
worst case scenario: early 90's silk 'track suit' (usually in pastels) with sockless loafers. i've seen it. david sedaris has noted this atrocity, too. stay away from that. protect friends and family from said error.
oh, and the socks with an individual groove for each toe -- commonly known as 'toe socks' -- should also be avoided.
that is all.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
the joy of words
I have been told once or twice that I have an interesting vocabulary. Take note that I am careful to emphasize the word "interesting," because "good" and "large" are not appropriate descriptors of my wordbank.
When push comes to shove, I'll admit that I can eke out a paper that sounds semi-educated. But I'm not particularly interested in eloquent or rhetorical vocabularies and writing styles. My true love lies in extremely weird and obscure words. I especially enjoy using them in non-traditional (i.e., incorrect) contexts.
Below, please find a list of a few of my favorites.
A prime example is the word careen. Technically, it means to move carelessly, or to swerve or lurch while in motion. I, however, prefer to use to term in reference to my every day travels. Example: "I must now careen to class." "Shall we careen to the grocery store for some eggs?"
Another word I enjoy is dogtrot, which means 'to go or move at a gentle trot, like that of a dog' sayeth my good friend dictionary.com. I am certain I never move gracefully enough to describe my gait as 'gentle,' but the word is irresistible to me. I use it similarly to careen, as a verb for any sort of movement in which one might partake. Examples: "Dan, why don't you dogtrot to the cabinet and retrieve my favorite pink coozie?" or "I better dogtrot on over to the library before class."
One of my most obscure favorite words is sounder. Technically, a sounder is a herd of wild pigs. In practice, it is what my boyfriend and I refer to ourselves as singularly and collectively. I'm yet to find anyone who's ever heard the word, but we discovered it one joyous day last spring at the North Carolina Zoological Park, and it shall remain in our vocabularies forever.
Tomfoolery is a long time favorite of mine that I stole from some of the (usually drunk and) beloved cooks at Lone Star Steakhouse and Saloon many moons ago. It means foolishness or silly behavior. I tend to use this word in its correct context, as I often seem to be involved in various forms of tomfoolery, and the opportunity therefore regularly presents itself. Tomfoolery gets extra points for its fabulous synonyms monkeyshines and tomfoolishness.
While its difficult to misconstrue its definition, snout is an outstanding noun. It's just so much funnier to refer to people's noses as snouts in every day conversation. The same is true for commonly referring to people's butts as rumps.
There are also a few words in my vocabulary that are not words at all. Nor are they common slang. They are mostly words I stole from my father, who is the source of all that is weird about me.
One of these words is wobbule, which is any sort of feline, ranging from housecat to leopard. I'm not really sure how this happened, but human children may also be referred to as wobbules.
The antonym of wobbules is weenles, which refers to any creature of the canine variety. Similar to "wobbule," I have also heard kids referred to as "weenles." I have also heard my boyfriend refer to himself as a "weenle."
I have found that "wobbule" and "weenle" are big hits with lovers of words once discovered. So feel free to use them. It'll make me feel original, even if I did steal them from my pappy.
I'd say that's a good starter list, although I assure you there is plenty more where that came from. I've found that life is much more interesting when rejecting common words and replacing them with things such as these.
I beg of you: Please share with me any obscure words that are integral to your vocabulary. You will absolutely make my day. :]
When push comes to shove, I'll admit that I can eke out a paper that sounds semi-educated. But I'm not particularly interested in eloquent or rhetorical vocabularies and writing styles. My true love lies in extremely weird and obscure words. I especially enjoy using them in non-traditional (i.e., incorrect) contexts.
Below, please find a list of a few of my favorites.
A prime example is the word careen. Technically, it means to move carelessly, or to swerve or lurch while in motion. I, however, prefer to use to term in reference to my every day travels. Example: "I must now careen to class." "Shall we careen to the grocery store for some eggs?"
Another word I enjoy is dogtrot, which means 'to go or move at a gentle trot, like that of a dog' sayeth my good friend dictionary.com. I am certain I never move gracefully enough to describe my gait as 'gentle,' but the word is irresistible to me. I use it similarly to careen, as a verb for any sort of movement in which one might partake. Examples: "Dan, why don't you dogtrot to the cabinet and retrieve my favorite pink coozie?" or "I better dogtrot on over to the library before class."
One of my most obscure favorite words is sounder. Technically, a sounder is a herd of wild pigs. In practice, it is what my boyfriend and I refer to ourselves as singularly and collectively. I'm yet to find anyone who's ever heard the word, but we discovered it one joyous day last spring at the North Carolina Zoological Park, and it shall remain in our vocabularies forever.
Tomfoolery is a long time favorite of mine that I stole from some of the (usually drunk and) beloved cooks at Lone Star Steakhouse and Saloon many moons ago. It means foolishness or silly behavior. I tend to use this word in its correct context, as I often seem to be involved in various forms of tomfoolery, and the opportunity therefore regularly presents itself. Tomfoolery gets extra points for its fabulous synonyms monkeyshines and tomfoolishness.
While its difficult to misconstrue its definition, snout is an outstanding noun. It's just so much funnier to refer to people's noses as snouts in every day conversation. The same is true for commonly referring to people's butts as rumps.
There are also a few words in my vocabulary that are not words at all. Nor are they common slang. They are mostly words I stole from my father, who is the source of all that is weird about me.
One of these words is wobbule, which is any sort of feline, ranging from housecat to leopard. I'm not really sure how this happened, but human children may also be referred to as wobbules.
The antonym of wobbules is weenles, which refers to any creature of the canine variety. Similar to "wobbule," I have also heard kids referred to as "weenles." I have also heard my boyfriend refer to himself as a "weenle."
I have found that "wobbule" and "weenle" are big hits with lovers of words once discovered. So feel free to use them. It'll make me feel original, even if I did steal them from my pappy.
I'd say that's a good starter list, although I assure you there is plenty more where that came from. I've found that life is much more interesting when rejecting common words and replacing them with things such as these.
I beg of you: Please share with me any obscure words that are integral to your vocabulary. You will absolutely make my day. :]
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