Well, This Could Be a Problem…

This winter, I’ve tried to be proactive about that zombie state this time of year always seems to cause in me: I bought a SAD light and a space heater for my office, decorated for Christmas, tried to think of fun things to do in snow rather than just yelling at it out my window like Kirk in Wrath of Khan, and generally gave it my best effort. And a lot of these things have helped, especially the light.

Until today, when I realized that I’ve been much more energetic the past few days than I have lately. The difference isn’t temperature at work, or sunshine (real or false): it’s the temperature outside. Yes, just like my indoor cat floofs up for winter even though it never goes below 65º in his immediate environment, I apparently perk up when the temperature I don’t even spend most of my day in goes up. How the heck can I be proactive about that?


Et Tu, NPR?

I know I can count on Yahoo! for a …unique… approach to word usage, but I expect better from NPR’s book reviews. Instead:

“Writer Mira Bartok was 40 years old when a semi-trailer hurled into her car on the New York Thruway.”

The word is hurtled. “Hurl,” used in formal speech, needs an object: “She hurled an eraser at the book reviewer.”

The only reason “hurl,” needs no object in its slang sense is because it’s a euphemism—that is, used specifically to avoid mentioning the substance you, er, hurl when you hurl.

I’m no stranger to this kind of disappointment with NPR—it seems that eventually, apprise vs. appraise will cause me to lose respect for absolutely everybody in the whole world, until one day I flub it myself and the universe goes up in smoke—but I never expected something quite so gross.

A Conversation That Didn’t Happen

You have a fishie!
Yes. Adorable, isn’t he?

No, really, I love the view of the cat staring intently at me...


What’s his name?


You named him Jack McKoi, didn’t you?


How ridiculous. Fish don’t even have eyebrows!

Not…Ready!!! (Or Back The #$@! Off, Jack Frost)

I am not ready for summer to be over, and having it end with two days of rain, mist, cold, and general Sherlock-Holmes-out-on-a-fall-evening weather seems particularly cruel.

I can never get warm at work anyway (to the point that mentioning this to any older female relative leads to cries of “THYROID!!!;” given the family history they may have a point, but my weight is fine and my hair remains insanely thick), and it’s much worse when I can’t even sit in a warm car at lunchtime. Now if only I could show this to anyone who wanders by and wonders why I am wearing a sweater and a jacket, using another sweater as a lap rug, and typing in fingerless gloves…

Lookin’ Voxy In Here!

In the wake of Vox’s closing, little Twitchery has stretched her jaws and swallowed my entire Villa Grammatica Vox blog.

Also, I may need to lay off the David Attenborough documentaries.

Off With (T)his Headline

Let’s hope they don’t change this one too fast:

“Private Guards Kill Somali Pirate for First Time”

What is this, Piracy on the Orient Express?

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Oh, Yahoo!, You Never Disappoint

(I know: this is what I come back for after an absence of months?)

Two little online headlines and how they misfire:

1) “Shooting cripples Ala. University Department”—Well, probably. And yet, no, no no. Either a really poor inadvertent choice of words or a pun about things a bit too grim for punnery.

2) “Dalai Lama–Obama meeting about style”—This one took a bit more searching, but apparently they mean “style over substance,” a very tight definition of style and, frankly, not nearly as much fun as things initially sounded. “That saffron color is really you!”

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