Tag: wordsmith

An Observation: Have A Good One

I’m guilty. You’re guilty. We’re probably all guilty.

Guilty, you say? Of what?

True, on a philosophical level, we’re all guilty of lots of somethings, so I suppose I should specify this particular instance of guilt before you all start beating yourselves up over other transgressions.

How many times have you said/heard/overheard/responded to this statement?

“Have a good one.”

You know you’ve said it. You’ve also been on the receiving end of that statement. And I know that the linguists and comedians of the world have covered this topic (probably better than I can), but this is my blog and it’s my turn, so there. If you don’t like it, too bad. So sad. Love, Brad (whoever Brad is).

happy brad pitt GIF — I kinda hope it’s this guy.

As I said, it’s probably already been said, so, for my own personal record, I’ll say it.

ONE WHAT?!?

Okay, okay, I get it—it’s a substitute for “day.” Why, though? “Day” is the same number of letters as “one,” it’s just as quick to say as “one,” and it happens to be my middle name (a bit off-topic, sure, but I like my middle name). How did “day” morph into “one”? The “a” in “have a good day” along with the singular nature of “day” is already indicative of “one” being the understood unit of measurement in that statement.

However—to get back to the crux of this post—how does anyone “have a good ONE”? What is a “one”? It has to be a “one” of something—understood as “day” in this situation, as we have established, but someone might have missed the memo the day (or “one”) that it went out—and I’ve just gone and massively complicated a simple pleasantry usually exchanged at drive-thru windows and banks in the name of the typical analytical paranoia that follows me around on a one-to-one (see also: day-to-day) basis.

I should take a nap.

A long one.

An Observation: Sensible Shoes

I overheard someone mentioning that they needed a pair of sensible shoes.

What exactly is a “sensible” shoe?

As a wordsmith, I would like first to view this term from a strictly literal perspective. I mean, in my mind, I’m picturing a “sensible” shoe as an agreeable item that won’t argue with you. (Shoes have tongues, after all, so it stands to reckon that they could—theoretically—argue.)

If my shoes did this, well, they’d be cute, but distracting; therefore, not sensible.

If you’re constantly arguing with your shoes, how will you have time to walk or tap your feet to music or run a half-marathon? (That is, if you’re someone who runs long distances, which I could never do because it would be my feet arguing with me before my shoes had the chance to talk.)

Next, I’d like to view this term from a realistic perspective. When I hear “sensible” shoe, I think of the nurse shoes of yesteryear. The white ones with the thick soles. Comfortable, sure. Fashionably sensible? Depends on your fashion sense.

If you’re looking strictly for comfort when you use the word “sensible,” I’ve heard that Crocs will have you covered. However, I’m of the school of thought that no matter how comfortable a pair of those might be, I will NEVER know it, because I just can’t even bring myself to try on a pair.

For starters, they have holes. If I have to wear socks with the things in winter just to keep my feet warm AND sensibly comfortable, then I might as well just wrap my feet in bubble wrap and draw even more attention to myself. Sure, the bubble wrap might feel like walking on air for about ten seconds, until all the bubbles started to pop and everyone in the grocery store you’re walking through would hit the deck because they didn’t know what that sound was and…where was I going with this?

Bubblewrap Dog GIF - Dog Rollover Roll GIFs — Uhh, I wasn’t going there, but this is cute.

Oh, yeah. Crocs. Thanks, but no thanks.

I’m going to assume that a “sensible” shoe is somewhat comfortable and moderately stylish (because, as we all know, you can’t completely have both).

I’m thinking loafers, although the word “loafer” tends to imply a sense of laziness that negates sensibility.

I’m going to be productive in my loafers.

tired snow GIF — He’s probably wearing loafers.

Yeah, not a sentence you hear very often.

Then again, neither is, “Original hummus chokes twelve angry tsetse flies every half hour in an Antarctic discotheque.” It could happen, but not likely.

Then, you have your sneakers. Sneaky.

Perhaps you call them tennis shoes, like I do. It’s been a while since I’ve played tennis, though, so it feels a bit dishonest.

I’ll just be here in my socks until I figure this one out. Talk amongst yourselves.

An Observation: Pi Pie

I’m overthinking about Pi Day.

Of course, I learned about 3.141592somethingorother in school. Being the mathematical non-genius that I am, I have had very little to do with pi outside of my academic career. My dad loved to ask me about what I was learning in school during those years, so I kept at least one equation using pi in the back of my mind all the time.

Father Dearest: What’s the formula for the area of a circle?

Me: Umm…I’m pretty sure it’s pi-r-squared.

Father Dearest: No. Pie aren’t square. Pie are round. (Grin.)

(You can see where I get my senseless of humor.)

I didn’t think too much about the connection between the two until a student brought me a gift a few years back on March 14. You know, 3/14.

Yes, pie-r-round. And tasty. But…this one’s in a square box, so…I think my brain is going to implode.

It wasn’t until recently, though, that I really stopped to consider something.

Do they call it “pie” because pies are round, thus making the use of pi more relevant? Or am I overthinking this as usual?

The etymology is quite interesting. Upon performing a little informal research, I found that the word “pie,” while it referred to meat or fish enclosed in pastry, could also be associated somehow with the magpie and its nesting habits of collecting miscellaneous objects and that’s when I started to trail off in my research and wound up watching YouTube videos of pie recipes because I never learned much beyond figuring out the area of a circle using the formula that my dad would later use as a way to make me groan about his deliberate grammatical mistake the way all teenagers do when an adult tries to tell a joke and…you know, I’m always more excited for Fri Day than Pi Day, but that’s beside the point.

morning GIF — Oh, man…I’m never getting this song out of my head now.

I’m just gonna go get myself a pizza pie. With pepperoni. More round objects…on top of a round object. Sheesh, why don’t they just call it pi-peroni? (Overthinking…I know…)

math pi GIF by Chris Timmons

A Definition: Essential Oils

Essential oils are awfully popular these days, don’t you think?

My question is twofold: If they’re so essential, then how have I managed to make it all this time without them? And what is an essential oil?

I suppose one answer to the first question is that I’m a lady but I’m not exactly girly. I like wearing dresses and skirts, but I don’t care for spending all of my spare time shopping for them. I didn’t get my first pedicure until I was 31 years old and I was reluctant to ever get another one after I left about half of the skin on my right heel on a nail technician’s cheese (foot) grater.

I’m also the skinniest person you’ll ever meet who subsists on a steady diet of pizza and hamburgers. I have a multivitamin in my medicine cabinet, so I assumed I was covered in the “essentials” department. (From A to Zinc.) Therefore, a health-nut or fashionista-type trend probably would go unnoticed in my world until it was about to go out of style.

I figured it was time to bring Webster into the equation for some good ol’ definitions.

There he is. Found him. Noah Webster. The dictionary guy.

The definition of an essential oil (from what I could find on the internets) is an oil that that smells like the plant it comes from. The “essence” is the characteristic fragrance of the plant from whence it came.

I’m not satisfied with that, though. Being a words person (and self-proclaimed Meticulously Observant Observer), I decided to break down the nomenclature (ooh, a big word–thanks, Noah Webster) and determine exactly what an essential oil is. I’ve taken what I have deemed as the most appropriate definition for each word (where multiple examples are provided) and listed them below:

essential (adj.): extremely important and necessary

oil (n.): a thick, black liquid that comes from the ground and that is used in making various products (such as gasoline)

Well, then. According to these definitions, the most essential oil in my life appears to be motor oil. It gets me to and fro each day…in an indirect manner, but, still…it’s much more essential to my day-to-day routine than smelling like a botanical garden.

You have to admit, they are nice... — Okay, you do have to admit that they’re nice…

Not that smelling like a botanical garden is a bad thing. Quite the contrary–I really like the idea. I just don’t think it’s as “essential” as the word suggests it is.

A Brief Thought: Wordsmithery

I like words.

Aww, a girl and her dictionary. — Aww, how cute. A girl and her dictionary.

Let me rephrase that…I like MOST words.

I’ve come up with a very short list of words that I like and dislike for various reasons.

*Disclaimer: As always, the views I write are just my opinion and should not be taken as the gospel. This post is intended for entertainment purposes…nothing more, nothing less. Void where prohibited. No refunds after 30 days. Play ball.

Words I Can Do Without:

1) Diminutive. Why should a word to describe something small be so large? Suggested alternatives: teeny, tiny, little. See also “petite.”

2) Tort. I took one whole business law class in college. I read a lot of John Grisham. I have no problem with the word itself, per se, but I’d rather see it with “-illa” attached to the end. That sounds good. Suggested alternatives: tortilla. (Nothing so right can possibly be a wrong.)

3) Fabulous. I’m blaming, oh, say, the turn of the millennium for this one. It appeared in so many different television shows at the time that I’ve lost count. It’s somewhat…aloof, perhaps? (This is, of course, assuming that words have personalities.) Suggested alternatives: wonderful, terrific.

Words I Can Live With:

1) Petite. It’s such a perky little word, don’t you think? As a petite person, I approve.

2) Amazing. Although this one does tend to conjure up images of childhood magic shows, it’s a handy adjective to keep in your arsenal.

3) Pleasant. Speaks for itself. Reminds me of raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens. Aww.

Yes, I like words. I guess I even like the ones I don’t.

An Introduction

You’d probably like to know why you’re here.

I ask myself that philosophical question at least a dozen times a day.

However, you’re probably thinking more practically than that, so let me give you an idea of what I will be feeding you via this webpage.

Grilled Stuff (That’s not exactly what I’ll be feeding you, so don’t worry.)

I could describe myself in lots of different ways, but I think the best way to put it is that I’m a meticulously observant observer.

Case in point…if you were to create an acronym from that description, it would spell “M.O.O.” However, if you met me in person, you’d never associate the image of “cow” with my petite frame, so I suppose I’d be one of those skinny cows you hear about on the television, and…see what I mean? If it can be overthought, I’ll overthink it.

When social media came along, I finally had an outlet for all of my observations. Facebook was where I discovered my comedic voice. Twitter came along and helped me to choose my words carefully thanks to the character limit. YouTube…well, I haven’t fully utilized YouTube yet, but I’m sure I’ll find a way to embarrass myself there. (If I haven’t already. Everyone has a camera phone these days, so I could be a YouTube sensation for tripping over my own left foot and just not know it…)

As I started compiling these observations and generally refining my wordsmithery, I made the decision to begin working on a manuscript for a book. I’m editing at this point and very excited about the possibilities.

But, I guess you’d still like me to answer that all-important practical yet philosophical question.

Why are you here?

Read some of my stories.

Think about some of my observations.

Rest assured that grammatical correct-ness still exists…or, yeah.

Check out my landscape photography (and maybe buy a print or four).

Follow an eclectic hodgepodge of hobbies.

Laugh.

See, the thing is, I just want to make you (yes, you) smile. If you enjoy my webpage, great! If not…don’t tell anyone you don’t like it. Instead, tell a friend who might actually like it that they should really give it a read and…

I’ll stop now. In the meantime, I’m going to continue working on the page.

Welcome, enjoy, and have a lovely…whatever time of day it is.