I'm not pretentious. I just really love words.

I never knew how bothersome my love of the English language could be to others. A friend of mine, who's kind of a math nerd, looked at me today after I pointed out a misused word and said, "and you wonder why I call you pretentious." She has, you know, on several occasions. It's because I draw attention to ads and websites and posters with misspellings, homophones used instead of the intended word, and other grammatical errors. Like a certain hotel chain that offered its executive suites with "sheik decor." I looked at the photos and saw nothing that looked like "Midnight at the Oasis." Or the website that sold a "weaved leather belt" when the correct adjective form is "woven." (weaved being the past tense of weave, as in "She weaved through traffic with the skills of Andretti.") I actually once dreamed of winning a bet on the difference between proved and proven.

I don't point these things out to be a bitch or to feel better than the rest. It's just that I can't understand sometimes how these mistakes can be made. Don't websites and such have proofreaders? If not, they really should. How can people still say "irregardless"? It doesn't even sound right. I forget that some folks might not have had educational opportunities or that English is their second language* or that they just don't care about grammar (GASP). I'm sorry if you've been bothered by me in the past. I would say I'll try to curb my behavior, but I know it would be a lie. As I read on a T-shirt once "Bad grammar makes me [sic]." **

At least I've stopped (mostly) correcting people as they speak the way I did when I was much, much younger. The neighborhood kids called me the Department of Corrections. Oh, and "pretentious" isn't really the right word. I think she meant obnoxious.




*True story--one Halloween I was at work wearing plastic candy corn earrings when my friend Nick came in and said, "Aren't you cute with your candy cones." I said, "It's candy corn, ESL student." I was joking, but turns out English really was his second language (German was his first). His accent was more Hoboken than "Hogan's Heroes" so how was I supposed to know. Although when he was really tired or had been drinking, his W's turned to V's and it was so adorable.

**Shout out to the Grammar Nerds who got that.

My Farm is possessed

Facebook users who play with the Farmville will get a kick out of this. Last week, I had a plot of land that was growing things super fast. Like I planted the pumpkins and they were instantly withered. They're supposed to take 8 hours to grow. I plowed them over and planted wheat, a three-day plant. It instantly went to 48% grown. Clearly, that plot was under some evil influences, so I deleted and plowed again. It's fine now.

So, just now I checked in, you know, to harvest my plants and check on the animals. I was harvesting my squash when all of a sudden, one of the ducks starts walking around. What the? When did the animals start moving on their own? One of my horses then started walking around. Then the chickens got all bunched together and when I clicked on them to collect the eggs it said, "this animal is busy." Doing what, you filthy fowl? All this independent movement has led to some interesting animal placement.What are that sheep and that goat doing, I ask you? It's not natural. Also, please note I'm being attacked by bunnies like "Night of the Lepus."
Then there were these pigs...I don't want to know.My farm's gone rogue.

I walked 5 kilometers and lived to tell about it

Okay, I know, It's like three miles. Big Deal. But I haven't walked three miles at one time since I got a car, and I've been sick all week, so it was a big deal to me. Plus, I walked an additional 7 blocks to the Red Line station and then another 3 blocks from the bus stop at 39th and Hill. Sidebar--I saw this drag queen on the train this morning wearing a dress that looked like a cheerleader outfit, but all black, with arms like a linebacker, hairy legs (dude, at least shave the legs) and a long black weave that he twirled in his fingers like a pretty pretty princess. It was 6:45am.

I met Liz at Chano's on Fig and we walked over to register. We got our shirts and some free sunscreen from Neutrogena, not that we needed it. Soon our whole team arrived, donned our team shirts, took pictures and got ready to move. Three of the schools we work with had teams of students walking and the kids made these awesome signs to carry. Our kids are the best.

After a rousing send off from Mark Ridley-Thomas, we were off. I warned the ladies that I would not be power walking today so I brought my iPod in case they left me in the dust. Before we even reached Jefferson, all but Joanne had moved far ahead. Thanks, Joanne, for sticking with me. The route went north on Figueroa, west on Adams, south on Hoover, east on Jefferson, then zigged and zagged inside the USC campus around the museums and back to the Coliseum. Did you know those statues outside are anatomically correct (and he's not Jewish, if you know what I mean)? I never noticed that before. We made it in about an hour and 20 minutes. Unfortunately, it took that long to get out of the parking lot. Joanne was kind enough to give me a ride home, which I appreciated because I had blisters on my heels from my sneakers and my thighs were aching.

So, I just want to say Thank You again to all my friends who gave so generously for this worthy cause. You helped me exceed my personal goal, which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Update: My throat is no longer sore and the cough is mostly gone. Walking did me good!

Vintage Photo Friday--A Family Affair

With special thanks to the most awesome sister in the whole world, we continue the photo journey of Laurie Ann. You may find yourselves asking, "How did she get to be so amazing?" Well, I had a lot of help from my delightful brothers and sister. In our Easter bonnets, with....oh, yeah. This would be me with my sister, Kate, sitting on the front porch. You'll see in future pictures that I did a lot of sitting on the porch. Mom always said Kate was not happy getting her picture taken, but I was charming as ever. This, too, is a theme.
Easter again, a few years later. We're just like the Five Stairsteps, only lighter and not musically talented. That is me in the Cindy Brady dress (could it get any shorter?), followed by Kate, Roy, Brian, and Michael all lined up on the front walk.We do love our Easter photos. I'm not sure where the rest of the siblings are, but Roy and I were happy as clams...well, I was happy anyway. Bonus--A rare glimpse of my parents, Joan and Jake, when they were still happily married. And look! That's where the sidewalk ends or begins, depending on your direction. I guess because there were no houses up the street (we were #1) they didn't feel the need for more sidewalk. Several years later, the borough put in new sewer pipes and tore up the roads and such, and part of the deal was new sidewalks up and down both sides of the street in the whole neighborhood. This would lead to many skateboarding injuries, but that's a story for another day.Kids--It's what's for dinner! Sometimes when you have so many kids you don't know what to do, you just throw them in a giant cast iron pot like lobsters (watch out! the big ones are escaping). Actually, this is another photo from Gingerbread Castle in New Jersey.
I swear, we were happy kids, but you'd never know it from this picture. It's like they just told us Santa Claus was dead or something. Maybe it's just the weather. This was taken in Mystic Seaport, Connecticut.

Next week--some delightful school photos

Back at work

I am still sick, but I had to come to work in order to get stuff done for the fundraiser next week. I walked into my office to find a bag of candy corn, two bags of mellowcreme pumpkins and a bag of "autumn mix," which contains my second favorite candy--the candy corn with the chocolate layer. Can I swallow without pain? No. Did this stop me from eating candy corn? Have you met me?

As for actual work, I got precious little done. My head is not in the game. I did find out that one of my co-workers has the exact same symptoms as me. Neither one of us thinks it's the flu. I also managed to get some knitting in at the reception desk, so all was not lost.

And there is a bucket of Dubble Bubble bubble gum on the receptionist's counter courtesy of the program department for Happy Week (it's a moral booster thing we do), which brought back some great memories for everyone. One summer, my BFF Joann and I chewed a whole lotta Dubble Bubble so that she could send the wrappers in for prizes. She got a duffle bag, a T-shirt, and a beach towel. Joey loved the Dubble Bubble and had a very indulgent father.

My sister sent me a treasure trove of photos for Vintage Photo Friday; almost too many for the weeks I have left. I'll have to decide what stays and what gets saved for another time. One set will have to get a post of their own. See you tomorrow!

Being sick sucks

I woke up coughing up a lung and decided it was best to stay home and rest rather than infect the whole office. I slept a lot. I finished reading a book (which I hated but I can't leave a book unfinished). I did some knitting. I watched a video on knitting. I chatted with Criss. I watched Ellen. Oh My God, it was so boring!!!

I hate being sick!!! I'm probably going to work tomorrow but I'll stay in my office and try not to spread my ick.

A Tale of Tuesday

(for San Diego Momma)

I woke 30 minutes before my alarm with an urgent need to pee and a blinding headache. Eyes closed, I stumbled to the bathroom, kicking my unplayed guitar along the way. I mumbled an apology to Dave--the guitar is named Dave--and no sound came out. Sitting on the toilet, I tried to speak, "Hello. Hello." The voice that croaked from my sandpaper throat sounded nothing like my own. "Crap, I'm still sick," I said. I was hoping the power of positive thinking would have cured me overnight.

On my way back to my bedroom, I made a side trip to the kitchen for a couple of Excedrin tablets. I stopped in the living room to make sure Dave was okay, then back to bed where I discovered the fitted sheet had torn. The sheets are old and made of T-shirt material, so the tear didn't surprise me, but I was annoyed as my toes caught the hole and tore it further. "Seriously," I said to myself before closing my eyes to let the Excedrin work its magic.

At 5:40, the blinking light of my alarm clock woke me again. "What happened to my cell phone alarm, " I wondered just as the cell phone started beeping. The cell phone read 5:31. I grabbed the flashlight on my night stand and checked the atomic clock on the shelf across the room. It read 5:38. Time is relative and malleable at Frau Gardens.

I showered and pulled my hair up in barrette. Makeup or no makeup? I looked in the mirror again--MAKE UP! Thank God for Bare Minerals and the two-minute makeup routine. I even had time to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch. I grabbed my purse--is my knitting in there?--and my jacket and ran down the stairs. It's November 3^rd and my registration expired three days ago along with my parking permit and my paycheck, but the gods of parking enforcement have smiled upon my yet again and there is no ticket on my windshield. The drive to work is mundane, as usual, made briefly better by the new John Mayer (yeah, I know, he's an asshole, but sometimes...) and relatively little traffic. I made it to work by 8:05, which is fortunate since I was supposed to cover the reception area for the morning while Mirna, our usual gal, is at the doctors.

It's really, really, REALLY boring at the reception area. No one comes in and hardly anyone calls, except the boss. I finished the minutes from yesterday's meeting and ate half of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. What will I do for lunch? Mirna came back at 10:30 and I headed back to my office for a day of writing Thank You letters and data entry. The walls between my office and the boss's office are paper thin and she has a penchant for talking on the speaker phone. "I need this report," she said to the person on the other line. "I'm waiting for Laurie to enter the information," the other person said. Two minutes later the phone rang. It was the other person. "She had you on speaker. I'm working as fast as I can," I explain. Thirty seconds after I hang up, the boss comes in and tells me to make it a priority. It is! I swear!

My day, what was left, consisted of entering names and addresses into an Access database. My throat, which felt fine around midday, has gotten progressively work and is back to the sandpaper feeling. Each swallow feels like shards of glass are ripping my esophagus. It's 7:59 and I've been here for nearly 12 hours. It's time to leave.