Greetings From Planet Spam

As an intermittent blogger who can't seem to get on a regular publishing schedule, I sometimes go weeks (months) without looking at the "dashboard" of this blog. Sometimes I'll pop on the site just to jot down some note for an article I'd like to write, when time permits. Other times I may look through old drafts, trying to breathe new life into an idea which lost appeal, or lost out in the daily time lottery around here. Usually the effort of slogging through several hundred writing attempts that never made publishing grade is agonizing enough to make me close the tab in discouragement. Rarely do I look around behind the scenes and see what kind of traffic has been visiting here at Polite Ravings.

But for some reason, a few days ago, I decided to poke around the stats pages. It was nice to see that, whether I post new material or not, there are still a few people finding me and reading a bit. Of course, since some of those new readers are finding me on some Uzbekistan google channel, I have a feeling that my wit and charm are lost on them. And God love Lego fans. I posted just two articles mentioning Legos, but, perhaps due to the frequency with which I used popular search terms (Legos, ninjago), that post stills get lots of hits, and occasionally a total stranger (and Lego fan) will comment on the old article.

While reading the comments, I noticed a tab that I don't remember noticing before. It was more like a button and and said "Spam." I wasn't sure what to expect, since the only spam I know about is the crazy list of email messages I dump periodically, with subject lines that promise to share Kim Kardashian's diet secrets, Katy Perry's eyelash secrets, and an a variety of unnamed secrets involving the word "enlarge." I've never known where spam comes from, and I don't know how spam finds my email account. All I really know about spam is that it is to be avoided. It's bad, and I should never open anything that looks suspicious because that can lead to more spam. 

So, I wondered, should I click the "Spam" button on the comments page and see if my blog is getting enlargement offers?

I clicked. I looked. I laughed! This was a different kind of spam. Turns out, there are many bloggers out there who are even more desperate to find readers than I am. The techies who advise bloggers on increasing traffic have evidently designed a formula for "mutual admiration spam" (my invented term - can someone design a cute piece of clip art with that phrase on it? We can share the royalties.)  I'm guessing this process involves the ambitious blogger conducting searches for terms that relate to their blogs, and when they find another blog that uses similar terms, they send a "comment." I say "send a comment," which is probably pretty naive, since I imagine these are computer-generated comments of some kind. They must be, because they are so horribly worded, cobbling together some thin reference to a search term in my blog, paired with praise for my blog in general, then, (the big payoff to these spammers) a link back to their website.

This may not sound interesting, but when I share some of the garbled messages you will understand why I had to bring this to the attention of my dedicated readers. These comments are some kind of human/computer hybrid-speak...a kind of new, helpless and witless language for peddling your product while reaching out to strangers. It's reminiscent of credit card offers for dogs or the deceased. Here is an example of what I'm talking about, in response to my post entitled To Your Health! 

"Asking questions are really pleasant thing if you aren't understanding something completely, except this post provides good understanding even. My homepage..."

I used this example first because it is the most recent and it fits the generic pattern. There are literally hundreds of variations on this theme - or there were until I deleted them. Many of the comments are in response to that particular blog post, which is tagged for aging and health, and therefore draws more general search traffic. Since a large number of spam comments read very similar to the one above, that suggests to me that there is some formula for creating this kind of fake response while sneaking in a link to another blog. I'm very glad that Blogger weeds these out, since there are hundreds more of these spam comments than there are real ones!

But let me share a few of the more humorous fake compliments for my blog. They are so touching in their utter lack of sincerity:

"You make running a blog look easy. The overall look of your web site is fantastic, let alone the content material!"

"Content material" will make a good addition to the Repetitive Redundancies file. And yes, dear reader, it is easy to run a blog when you forget about it for months on end! There are dead and expired gadgets everywhere...this joker never took a peek.

Here's another example of an extravagant compliment for my blog, written by someone/ something who/that clearly has not glanced at my bare-bones effort at design:


"Wow, amazing weblog structure! How lengthy have you been running a blog for?"

or this over-the-top analysis:


"Its an amazing post in favor of all the web visitors; they will get benefit from it I am sure. Feel free to surf my site..."

I know it is tempting to think the writer is just someone for whom English is not their main language. But after reading pages and pages of these, a pattern emerges that suggests the spam comment formula works something like this:

Compliment site feature

+ mention sharing blog post

+ state benefit to web audience

+ add link to own website

= instant anonymous comment

Here's one of many that fit that boring pattern but made me chuckle:

"Excellent post...I'll certainly digg it and ...reccommend it to my friend...I confident they'll be benefitted from this web site. Please check out my website..."

(Note that the writer chose two different spellings for the same term in this brief message.)

Several comments mention the importance of the issue I'm writing about and compliment my great research or excellent insight into this concern. If they didn't end with a pitch for their website, which is unrelated in any way to the post, I'd probably be fooled and touched by those comments. But here's an example of a comment attached to my fluffy, 95% content-free post called Say It With Flowers:

"Excellent research of your blog. This paragraph is genuinely a pleasant one it helps new internet viewers who are wishing in favor of blogging. See my site at..."

Since the post contained photos of flowers and plants around my house, I'm not sure how it helped "new internet viewers." But the research - there's no research, there is just a map and a fake calendar charting my interpretation of Gulf Coast weather! Could it be that a webcrawler service found this chart and identified it as weather research? That is rather chilling, isn't it? Someone could be quoting my "research" right now, in a speech or paper citing more definitive proof of global warming. Who knows?

Likewise, several of the comments to To Your Health! mentioned they would put a link on their website back to my post. I don't know if anyone remembers that blog, but it began with another of my lame charts designed to look like a pop-psych "test" to help the reader discover hidden signs of diseases. It is satire! I'm a housewife, not a doctor, but look at this sample comment:

"I think this is among the most important information for me. And I am glad reading your article. This will mean much better for the website viewer and reader. I show articles and sell the weight loss on..."

As I look at these comments, I'm very glad I didn't stumble on them sooner. When I began my blogging efforts, I was desperate for feedback, any feedback. I would have lapped up this eloquent but confusing comment for Am I a Hoarder? when I published it back in 2011:

"Ahaa, its fastidious dialogue concerning this article at this place at this website. I have read all that, so now me also commenting here. Visit my website at..."

I gather this writer missed the point about the fill-in-the-blank method of creating convincingly sincere spam. 

If you are wondering why I didn't just cut and paste these comments in their entirety, Blogger doesn't allow that. When I tried to highlight text, I was prevented from doing anything except deleting the entire post or converting it to "not spam." That meant I had to hand-write all the entries I wanted to quote, then type them into this post. Can you imagine how hard it was for me to write and type these errors and misspellings - twice? But I guess that policy protects all of us from being maliciously quoted or used as spam against others. And perhaps by quoting them I'm breaking some fine-print clause in the Terms and Agreements for Blogger use. But I love bad writing, I love the folly of people trying to pretend they like something they've never seen, and I am enjoying learning about how web traffic and back-linking really works. So I had to share these amusing comments, just as I always want to share bad writing, wherever I find it.

And I saved my favorite for last, because I am not entirely sure it is spam. The writer links to a website that is actually related to the post topic (health), and after the obligatory compliment for the layout and content, the writer makes an interesting point:

"I do have a couple of questions? for you if you tend not to mind. Is it only me or does it seem like a few of these responses come across like coming from brain dead folk: :-P"

Hey, keep them coming.

From the Old, Old Scrap Paper File - Installment 1

I'm beginning to suspect that I'm not going to be able to compile the definitive compendium of spelling errors. Collecting the glaring flaws of others and exposing them to ridicule and derisive comments is extremely fun and rewarding, but not enough so that I can dedicate myself to the task full-time.

Back when I thought I might produce such a reference, I attempted to collect examples of spelling mistakes. I employed the same rigorous data management system as my mother, which is a simple two-step plan for keeping track of anything:

1. Write it down on a scrap of paper

2. Put paper in the nearest stack

After years of following this system, I can honestly say that I've collected a mass of yellowing   scraps of paper in various piles. As I've mentioned before, the traditional way I deal with piles around here is following an avoidance-based strategy. When the pile gets too tall, I put in a recycled envelope or file folder, which I forget to label, and stick it in a drawer.

A couple of years ago, I created a file folder with pockets, so that I'd have a "central data storage facility" for my humorous misspellings collection. For example, I was sorting through an old box marked "Important Documents," and wondered why I saved a dentist's bill from 1992, only to discover the word "parapathetic" scrawled in the margin. Oh, goody - I have a file for that now!

Of course, that file has been moved from pile to pile until I was forced to deal with it. Like almost everything relating to my writing efforts, the file was part of a growing mound of paper on my desk.

But here - from the old paper archives that will soon become a digitized file whose name I'll promptly forget - here is the first installment in my collection of funny phrases, misspellings and word-mangling that I've "witnessed" first-hand.

This Saturday - be here early for our Eminent Garage Sale

The dresser draws are crocked and some of the pules are misssing.

She did a nosedive to the pavement, and landed feet-first.

All entrees come with two sides and a biscuit, accept pasta.

He was a nice boss and more or less precise in what he asked me to do.

Four times I paid that bill, and four times the check bounced.

I slept so bad I wish I'd just gotten drunk instead.

The stroller is desined for twins, but you could sqeeze a triplets in there.

All Eden ever wanted was the love of a good man that she never got from her father.

The players were all on the field...every last one of them...except the ones who were on the bench.

Bike for sale. No seat. Tire a little bent. Burgundy with white handelbars and petals. $50 or trade for a barbie makeup head.

Lowest prices of the season! Save up to 50% and more!

For sale: 2 tickets to the premere of "Cats" at the Mobile Municipal Aud. Opening night. Wife died and I didn't really want to go.

My heart is split in half. Part of me still loves you, part of me isn't sure, and part of me hates your guts.

If you can do math, you can do fractions. It's almost the same.
..................................

And with that, I'll leave you to proof this blog and point out my errors :)

Fifty Shades of Wasted

I frequently apologize and/or make excuses for my old-fashioned tastes, limited understanding of current trends and cluelessness as regards popular culture. I could never be mistaken for a person who knows what's new, what's hot, what's in. I'm pretty stagnant in my interests and don't usually explore "the latest" of anything. 


And I'm usually satisfied being out of the pop culture loop. I'm okay not knowing who is the latest favorite on American Idol, or what color is the new black, or the wedding plans of Brangelina.


The only niggling doubt I have is when it comes to books. Sometimes I just can't resist the urge to read the latest bestseller that everyone is talking about. I almost always regret that decision. I know what I like - why do I let myself get talked into reading something that doesn't interest me?


That's what happened this week. I finally broke down and bought Fifty Shades of Grey for my Kindle - at $9.99, the most expensive e-book I've bought - and began reading immediately.


Many of my friends have enjoyed this book, I assumed I was just being a stick-in-the-mud and missing out on a good story.


Note: What follows is purely my opinion. I am not trying to influence anyone. It's just a rant.


What a complete waste of my time! I'd give anything to be able to get back the hours I spent trudging through this juvenile, redundant, predictable excuse for a novel. I'd rather have a refund on the time than the money, and if you know how cheap I am, you know that's saying something.


The narrator and ingenue, Anastasia Steele, is only fractionally more likeable than Twilight's Bella Swann. She's a about to graduate from college with honors, is a dutiful daughter, a Brit Lit devotee', shy, gorgeous and a virgin. If she had ever 1) made one single intelligent decision during the course of the story or, 2) pulled the plug on her continuous stream-of-consciousness narration, I may have been able to find something about her to like or admire. But Ana quickly changes the very core of her character in order to be able to become sexually involved with Mr. Hottie Hot Hot Rich Gorgeous Stud. She's about as admirable a role model for women today as a certain aspiring Dallas Cowboy cheerleader named Debbie was to my generation. Completely unbelievable character development, in my opinion. 


The male love interest - I cannot call this character a hero with a straight face -  is Christian Grey, a 26-year old self-made telecommunications billionaire  who is frequently described by his physical beauty (redundantly and ad nauseum). He is also an accomplished pilot, classical pianist, has impeccable manners and speaks like he reads Lord Byron for breakfast. He's a bona fide sex god, whether indulging in his obsession with BDSM or just dabbling in "vanilla" carnality. In other words, he's off-the-chart implausible, which made it very difficult for me to give a rat's derriere what his emotional problems stem from.


I wish I'd listened to my own "inner goddess" and skipped this tripe. I'm doomed to remember this sub-par story and these annoying whiners for years, until the inevitable dementia sets in and I can hopefully forget this book. Meanwhile, I can't escape them in my head. I can't un-read the story or erase the memory of their kinky goings-on.


Let me be clear: I'm not opposed to the sexy aspects of the novel. It's just that the writing was so bad, the characterizations so infantile and the narrative so annoying that I can't see how anyone could enjoy any aspect of the story - sex, dialog, "inner goddess," what have you.  I was warned that it is poorly written, but I couldn't believe that something selling millions in hardback could be as bad as all that. I was mistaken.


Next time, if I think I don't want to read what everyone is reading, watch what everyone is watching or go where everyone is going, I hope I can remember this experience. I'm a boring, middle-aged woman, the perfect candidate for this mindless titillation, but I pray that next time a "can't-miss" opportunity comes along that truly doesn't appeal to me, I have the sense to save my limited time, money and brain space for finer, worthier things.


On the bright side, I'm feeling much more confident and ambitious about my own writing!

Why Yes, I'm Prejudiced...

...if you mean that my brain prejudges situations based on previous experience, facts in evidence and in advance of specific actions. But that's probably not what you mean.

"Prejudiced" usually describes the attitude or actions of one who prejudges another on the basis of an assumption about them based on a single or limited human dimension. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the first definition is:

• having or showing a dislike or distrust that is derived from prejudice; bigoted:people are prejudiced against usprejudiced views

In that context, the connotation is negative, but using the literal translation from Latin, prae meaning "before" and judex meaning "judge," it does not have to be applied negatively. It is possible to judge someone as having positive qualities associated with only one dimension (i.e. beauty = goodness). But the term is rarely applied to that sort of judgement.

Normally, we talk of prejudice as applied to race, gender, sexual orientation and a few other categories. When society discusses prejudice, the reference is usually to a person or persons who use narrow character assessments to make broad assumptions about groups. But are there other ways to prejudge people? I think there are. I prejudge people based on how their actions affect themselves, those around them and the whole of society. The actions which cause me to do that rarely have anything to do with race, gender, sexual orientation, etc. I assess individuals by how they treat others. Does that qualify as a prejudice?

If so, COLOR ME PREJUDICED. I am guilty.

Because, all other things being equal, this is how my brain thinks:

I prejudge cashiers who can't make change as deficient.


I prejudge people who speak poorly as being ignorant.


I prejudge children who are publicly rude as having negligent parents.


I prejudge people who drive aggressively as obnoxious.


I prejudge people with multiple junk cars in their yards as being lazy.


I prejudge people who scream and curse at their children in public to be bad parents.


I prejudge people who wear pants with a waistband around their hips to be slaves to prison fashion.


I prejudge people who wear clothes that tightly cling onto and in between their rolls of fat to be legally blind and/or lacking in honest friends.


I prejudge people who leave their Christmas lights up all year as lacking in the most basic level of motivation.


I prejudge people who buy flashy cars and overpriced toys as having more money than sense.


I prejudge people who throw their trash on the ground to be lazy.


I prejudge people who buy junk food with food stamps as irresponsible.


I prejudge people who use illegal drugs as plain old stupid.


I prejudge people who drink and drive as criminals.


I prejudge people who vote strictly according to their holy books and leave their God-given brain at home as under-informed.


I prejudge people who have surgery to fight the natural effects of time and age to be in denial.


I prejudge people who cut in line as rude.


I prejudge grown-ups who wear t-shirts featuring cuddly cartoon characters as childish.

~~~~~:::::~~~~~

Allow me stress this fact: I have been guilty of many of these acts myself.  As such, I expect you may have judged me similarly when I committed those acts. And I don't blame you for that.

As humans, we are each in possession of a brain that makes thousands of observations per minute. I draw from past experience to find data that applies to present circumstances.

I judge first with my eyes, but I don't stop there. My ears vote almost simultaneously. I don't need to interact with you in order to form an opinion, and if I don't have that interaction, my knowledge is stunted at the opinion stage.

If I do interact with people from groups that are different than my own demographic - white, middle-class, college-educated, middle-aged, married, straight, Christian - I will likely find other areas of commonality that bridge the initial gaps in similarity. Though that interaction, I gain the opportunity to see beyond our differences in religion, education, skin color or choice of partner. We may bond over gardening or sports or a book we both read. The world of possibilities for similarity is huge, compared to the narrow categories in which we may differ.

I believe that it impossible to think without prejudging. However, that is not the same as "passing judgement." To "pass judgement" on another person is discouraged, but I think that, at least in the literal sense, it is very difficult to assess facts associated with a person and not come to some kind of conclusion. It needn't be a conclusion of good or bad, right or wrong or any other pair of opposites, but we can be aware of a fact and judge that that particular fact doesn't change our overall assessment of the person.

Prejudging a person or situation is an unavoidable function of a working brain, and is only bad if it is where we stop thinking. Prejudging should only be the first stage in an assessment, and is best followed up by more information. The trick is to go beyond initial, limited impressions, the opinions of others and our gut reactions, to discover a whole person. I don't want to be judged by my demographic profile or a single trait any more than you do. If you must judge me, try to do so by observing how I treat my fellow man.

And I will try to extend the same courtesy to you.

How Can Playing With Legos Make Me Tired? (and other burning questions)

Sometimes I get down on myself for not doing more with my life professionally, not using my intellect or talents in a way that would bring security and financial gain to me and my family. For reasons beyond my limited understanding, this has not been the path for me.

After years of staying home to raise kids and keep house, I've had a few part-time jobs, but none have turned into a mid-life career. I regularly apply for jobs, usually entry-level office positions, but so far nothing has panned out.

In my dreams, I have the makings of an impressive "Girl Friday"-type of administrative assistant. I don't know how build a website or run Outlook, but I'd bring my real-world experience and common sense to thorny inter-office relationships, remember my boss's anniversary several days in advance, and always have my Shout stain-removal pen handy. I think I have much to offer, if you like a slightly younger, slightly thinner Aunt Bea-type of secretary.

In my nightmares, I picture myself as a myopic, incontinent Lucille Ball trying to run new product development at Apple - total overwhelmance. I'd probably be a disaster in any workplace. (Exception: Dairy Queen - I'd give that a try.)

As long as there are 200 applicants to each job for which I apply, it's safe to assume I won't be working full-time in the near future. So I continue to make my halfhearted efforts at "working" part-time,during the  few hours that I am not needed for kid transport, meal preparation, dog feeding and coffee drinking with neighbors.

Right now, I have an interesting job taking care of a 5 year-old boy, just a couple of days per week. (Please don't forward this to any of your friends in the IRS, if you get my drift.) Since my youngest is 14, it's been a while since I've been required to conduct discussions with a preschooler for any purposes other than my own entertainment. I've always loved hanging out with kids this age, but all the occasional 30 minute visits over the last 10 years did not prepare me for the hours-long demands of a 5 year-old who wants to know everything about everything.

And I'm not complaining. It's a gas, and I spend most of my time with him either smiling or laughing. But after a few short hours, I'm exhausted!

This should be balm to the souls of you mothers with toddlers. In all honesty, as mothers we get swept so quickly into the next stage of our kids' lives, whatever it is, that we forget to notice that the annoying stuff from the previous stage is no longer annoying us. For example, when you are done changing diapers, you don't get to have a "whew moment" and just enjoy saving diaper money and burning the ugly diaper bag and turning the changing table into a toy shelf. No, you are too busy chasing around after a potty-trainer, which involves lightning-quick reflexes, expanded psychic powers and pockets discreetly stuffed with toilet paper, wet wipes, a change of bottoms and hand sanitizer at all times.

My point being, once you've moved on to the next stage of development, it is possible, in a matter of only weeks, to find yourself thinking back longingly to the previous stage. It's a sophisticated nuance of programming, designed by God for the continuation of the species. Without this special ability embedded in our brain folds, our foremothers would have headed back to the treetops at the first sight of green poop, leaving the scary baby wailing on the forest floor for lesser mammals to take care of.

As the mother of two teenage girls, I know of what I speak. Have faith, mothers of toddlers. Your days with the smug group of carefree moms at the bus stop, in workout clothes and steaming coffee in hand, are closer than you think. The years of preschool drudgery will be a dim, sweet memory long before you have mastered the stage that follows.

But I digress...and don't I always?

My friend, my charge, is a young man who goes to pre-k and will be in kindergarten in the fall. I make his breakfast, get him ready for school, drive him there, have 3 hours on my own, then pick him up, and stay with him until 3:30 or so. In all, we are together for about 5.5 hours. But we cover an huge amount of information in that short time. And we usually construct no less than three original Lego masterpieces each day.

In the interest of protecting his innocence, I will refer to him by the name of his favorite Ninjago (ninja Lego) hero, Kai. Here is a sampling of a few of the questions that Kai posed in a mere 40 minutes yesterday before school:

Why can I only watch that show at 8pm7Central?*

Why doesn't the syrup melt the peanut butter?

Did Mary sit in my booster seat?

Why doesn't everybody live in Florida?

Do you ever let your kids go to bed without brushing their teeth?

I'm relieved to report that, on most mornings, I am not required to furnish believable answers, due to time constraints. But by midday, Kai and I are both engaged and at our leisure, so I try to address his questions with the seriousness they deserve. Like this one:

Did Darth Vader know he was going to turn into a bad guy?

What an opportunity! Time to clear my throat and assume my lecture-hall persona. But wait: this is not Mary, who likes to talk about archetypes in mythology, or Camille, who enjoys analyzing ethical questions; this is Kai, who is 5, and Darth Vader is just a bad guy in movies and on toy shelves. Struggling mightily, I formed the shortest, simplest answer my normally long-winded mouth could construct:

Not at first, but I think he knew later.

This seemed to be all he needed to know. I was dying to say more, but I just pinched myself and held my breath. Years of putting my kids to sleep with explanations they didn't ask for about things they didn't care about had finally taught me something. Just answer the question, then stop. Wow, that was powerful.

And because Kai is 5, he had another, totally unrelated question, a few seconds later:

So when your grampa gets old does that make him the great-grampa?

Other interesting points of discussion in the last few days:

Why do you only have old goldfishes?

Why can't we use a fish net to catch butterflies?

What animal is salami? (If it's warthog it would taste bad.)

Could you really live in a house built of Legos if it had a bathroom?

Do you think it's weird that snakes can wrap around each other and not get hurt?

Why didn't you ever buy your kids Ninjagos?

Do you think a mulch monster could beat up a pine cone monster?

I know I'll always be older than Danielle, but will she ever be older than me?

And this is the most profound question I've been asked by anyone in quite a while:

Why do you need three dogs?

We talk quite a bit about sports, since he is a seasoned hockey, soccer and t-ball player. He pulls for IU and Notre Dame sports teams equally, and did not want to address the possibility of who to root for when these teams meet. He's just a fan of both, end of discussion. My lesson in sportsmanship. When I told him I graduated from IU, he asked,

Did you have to go to college to be a babysitter?

So it would seem, my little ninja, so it would seem.

*all one word

Write or Sleep? It Depends on the Chair

asdfjkl;asdfjkl;asdfjkl;asdfjk;asdfjk;asdfjkl;asdfjkl;  

I composed this masterpiece one day a few weeks ago, sitting in a recliner with the laptop on my lap. It afforded me a short walk down memory lane, thinking of my typing teacher at Fairhope High School (Miss Thomas), and the buns-numbingly boring job of calling out individual letters of the alphabet for the class to translate into keystrokes on paper. She was a nice lady and I possess one of my few useful skill thanks to her efforts.


But I couldn't turn it into a blog, or a poem, or anything else useful. Reclining in the La-Z-Boy, with two dogs sharing my lap with the laptop, the old typing exercise didn't cause the juices of creativity to come gushing out. In fact, shortly after composing "asdfjkl;," I think I dozed off.


A few days later I was stationed across the family room in my overstuffed chair, with a dog in my lap, a dog on the ottoman and the laptop perched awkwardly on the edge of the chest next to me. At my feet lay another dog, next to my sewing basket. A pouch containing supplies for a much-needed manicure sat on top of a huge stack of books I'm supposedly reading. Surrounded by so many competing interests, I sat with my blog composition page open for several minutes, before typing this:




"You will not make me do that. There is no way you can make me do that. Under no circumstances will you force me to do that."


For some reason, that paragraph was one I always practiced before typing tests. I don't know where it came from, but after 30 years it just sprung from my fingertips.


It's pleasant to type, but it makes for a pretty dull blog entry. Unsure of what to do next, I think I took a short nap.


Inspiration is a fleeting thing. Some days, I have to open five or six tabs to handle all the writing ideas I have. Other days are just "asdfjkl;" days. Sometimes I'm distracted by my surroundings, other days I'm distracted by my thoughts, and occasionally (but not often), I have something better to do than sit at the computer.


A couple of weeks ago, I was working on an idea for a blog that I submitted to a website. I was very excited at the opportunity to write for a different audience, one full of strangers who aren't already tired of my schtick. I put myself under lots of unnecessary pressure and yelled at people and dogs who tried to talk to me while I "worked." I finally moved upstairs to the big library desk in my bedroom. Sitting on a hard wooden desk chair, I quickly made several pages of hand-written notes, gathered some pictures and began to write the piece, beginning to end, until I was done.


A few days later, I sat down to start selecting blogs for editing to go in a collection for a book. Mary and Camille were both writing on their respective computers in the living room, so I decided to set up shop in a huge, overstuffed chair we have in there. I wanted to chat with the girls while I worked, since we were planning spring break activities. I got a comfy blanket, a cup of decaf , a dog to warm my feet, my laptop and a notebook. Not only did I not get any work done, I don't think I talked much to the girls, and I also fell asleep there and spent the entire night, fully clothed, upright, my laptop keeping me warm in that cushy chair.




While I was in Virginia on spring break, I took my trusty notebook and favorite pen out on the deck of the rental house. The beautiful scenery of the Blue Ridge Mountains surrounded me, there was a light breeze, the sun was warm overhead, and I had an Adirondack chair and stool set up to enjoy the vista. I made some notes about our vacation activities up to that point, watched some bird activity through the binoculars, ate a cup of yogurt, and pondered blog topics. The combination of physical relaxation and mental effort made my eyes close, and soon I was...you guessed it...napping.

This pattern has been emerging for months now probably evident if I'd been paying attention. I make a plan to do some writing, get nice and comfortable, and then don't write, because I haven't figured out how to write in my sleep. I think I've figured out the culprit in my occasional writer's block:

Comfortable chairs

The last few days I've been very productive. I've worked on several of my long-term commitment projects, set up my new blog, and cranked out a few pieces I've been working on for weeks. I've done all this writing at my kitchen counter, on a straight-back barstool with a small cushion. The laptop doesn't sit on my lap, but on the counter, and my feet aren't pointing at the ceiling, they are underneath me, perched on rungs and cold from lack of dog heat.


I think it is ironic that it took me this long to realize that what applies to others should apply to me as well. I encourage my kids to do their homework at a table or desk, with minimal distractions, with an attitude of attentiveness and a goal of getting it done. Why did I think I could undertake the "job" of being a writer slumped in a club chair, covered in animals?


My new approach will be to use each of my comfortable chairs for specific activities. The club chair is ideal for reading and sewing. The recliners are nice for watching TV. The overstuffed chair is perfectly situated for visiting with the girls in the evening, away from the kitchen and the TV.


And my current perch, the kitchen island, allows for quiet background music, monitoring the progress of the meal I'm cooking, and offers a view of the kitchen sink, some streaky windows and the gorgeous expanse of my backyard.

I think this spot works for me.

Tuesday's Term Turnaround, v. 2

The blockbuster yet awkwardly-titled series returns after taking a week off for spring break. Now I'm back, well-nourished and ready to introduce some words that need to disappear from use in their currently misused forms. I'm depending on my brilliant and literate reading audience to assist me in achieving that goal.

There have been thousands of articles and blog entries devoted to the topic of word overuse, which means I didn't have to look very far to discover some candidates for this week's list. After you read mine, go here and here if you want to see some real effort. I'm pretty haphazard: I scratch my head, think about my personal pet peeves and start writing.  But some of these people devote their whole professional lives to creating complete and useful lists of words they want to bury. I wonder if that pays well.

If you still don't know where I'm going with this post, please look at the first installment of Tuesday's Term Turnaround, where I explain why "perhaps a vocabulary tune-up is in order."

For the rest of you, let us begin to examine some truly overused words.

basically - adverb
Here's an example of how people like to use "basically" to start as sentence in which they'd like to sound sincere, although the facts dispute this:

Man: "Basically, I'm a one-woman man."
Date: "How many times have you been married?"
Man: "Four. But only to one woman at a time."

This guy wants his date to believe that his fundamental nature is monogamous, so he precedes his statement with "basically." But "basic" is not a perfect replacement for "true" or "accurate."

Another abuse of "basically" is when the speaker wants to convey they idea that they are only sharing part of a more complex or lengthy story, as in:

Prisoner X: "So what are you in for?"
Prisoner Y: "Murder, robbery, possession, speeding and illegal lane-change."
Prisoner X: "What happened?"
Prisoner Y: "Basically, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Notice how "basically" spares the listener of the sordid details leading to Prisoner Y's incarceration. By saying "basically," he suggests unnamed, complicated circumstances which are central to the truth of the story, but unrevealed.

It is best to use "basically" sparingly, and to apply it when only one feature, factor or variable is being measured or analyzed. It should refer to something in the base form, i.e. simple, essential, primary. If you need to discuss something complicated, don't confuse the issue by introducing the idea as simple.  For example:

DON'T: "Basically, an anti-quark is just a really small part of an atom that is the opposite of a quark."


DO: "I am incapable of describing a quark or an anti-quark in terms you can understand. Basically, you should look it up."


totally - adverb
Another adverb, (for those of you keeping track), "totally" is like fingers on chalkboard for me. When it is used to confirm attendance at something ("Are you going to the party?" "I'm totally there!"), I clench my fists and grit my teeth.

Other abuses worthy of a citizen's arrest, and some suggested substitutes:

"She totally shouldn't wear those skinny jeans because her butt is totally hanging out and she basically just looks like a totally flat slob."

Instead, try:

"Those skinny jeans aren't very flattering to a size XXL figure. Her mother was completely justified in suggesting she wear something else." 

"The Patriots will totally dominate the Giants."

Instead, try:

"The Patriots were completely dominated by the Giants." 

"If I'm crowned Miss Northeast Granger, I will be totally about stopping global warming before it totally kills the Earth."

Instead, try:

"If crowned Miss Northeast Granger, I will devote myself to the awesome cause of ending global warming, since that is guarantees lots of publicity." 

 

Think of "totally" as a word reserved for statements of mathematical precision. If you can quantify your response at or above the 99% threshhold, you can totally use "totally." And in the name of all that is sacred, please apply that same rule of thumb to the word "absolutely."

amazing
This word shows up on many overused word lists. "Amazing" must be the go-to substitute for people who were told they say "awesome" too much.

Ending in -ing, you'd expect it to be used as a verb. Something that is amazing should cause amazement to occur. But in this sample exchange which passes for polite conversation:

A: Hi! How are you?
B: I'm amazing! How are you?
A: I'm awesome, thanks for asking.
B: No problem.

you'll notice that neither person mentioned any experience or activity that would inspire awe or amazement. They just referred to their current status as being capable of doing so. ("No problem" in place of "you're welcome" is a peeve for another day.) Referring to the capacity to amaze without specifying how you achieve this effect is inconclusive. If you never describe a person, including yourself, as "amazing," you are safe.

Since grammar is never far from the mind of any of my devoted readers, let's pause to hurriedly open another tab and find out exactly what part of speech "amazing" generally functions as, in lazy daily speech. Since it often describes or modifies a noun, but ends in "-ing," it must be a present participle. As such, "amazing" cannot be the main verb, much less the lone word, in a sentence.

"Amazing" is usually applied liberally when discussing issues of beauty and fashion. Examples gushing from the red carpet commentary prior to an award ceremony might include:

"Jennifer Aniston's dress is an amazing shade of gunmetal grey that does absolutely nothing for her complexion."

"Check out the number of ripples on Ryan Reynolds' abs. Amazing!" 

"That Kardashian sister is going to have slit her skirt much higher if she wants to compete with Angelina's amazing thigh exposure."

If you want to use "amazing" correctly, reserve it for situations where something truly caused amazement. "To amaze" suggests an extreme level of surprise. The original meaning actually conveyed fear, as in an alarming or terrifying thing or event. The word has evolved to connote a lesser affect, but should still be used for exceptional cases, not just a modifier of exaggeration.

Miss Aniston's dress was probably a "pretty" or "dull" shade of grey. The color of the dress probably didn't cause astonishment; the dress probably didn't impress or astound the audience purely by virtue of the "amazing" color. Sometimes an "amazing" dress is simply a "nice" dress.

Last time on Tuesday's Term Turnaround, I dissected five words, which took much too long for the limited appeal. I decided to stop at three this week, which means I'm done.  Next week, I'll be whining about the misuse of the following words: diversity, addictive, need and possibly exhausted. I'm also taking requests for this Hit Parade, so if you would like to suggest a word or term that drives you crazy, post a comment and let me know, and I'll try to find something annoying  and overly-complicated to say about it.

So what's left to say? Basically, go have a totally amazing day!

Monday Morning Moan-a-Thon

Don't get me wrong. I'm in a good mood and feeling very positive and have no serious complaints, but...


UUUGGGHHH! Monday after a week's vacation is such a drag!


And a week's vacation spent eating junk and staying up late is a perfect recipe for the crash-and-burn morning I'm currently experiencing.


If you saw my last blog, you already know of my heroic efforts to gain a record amount of weight while visiting the Blue Ridge Mountains last week. Not content to eat myself into oblivion while travelling, I came home and started planning our Easter feast. As I conferred with my husband and kids about the menu, a pattern began to emerge. Start with basically healthy appetizers, then gradually decline into high-fat, calorie-dense dishes until arriving at a selection of 5 separate desserts, each of which serves 8, for a party of 8. The flagrantly hedonistic menu included: 

boiled shrimp with mild cocktail sauce and sinus-draining cocktail sauce

one dozen each bacon-cheese and curry-horseradish devilled eggs

fruit platter

~~~~~~~~~~~~

ham

Eric's Savory Artery-Clogging Mashed Potatoes with gravy

steamed asparagus with Hollandaise sauce

green beans with butter

composed fruit salad with yogurt-poppy seed dressing

two loaves buttered French bread

~~~~~~~~~~~~

mixed berry tart

peach-cherry tart

vanilla bean ice cream

double-chocolate fudge brownies

bunny-shaped chocolate layer cake

I'm ashamed to say that I probably even forgot something. And whatever I forgot, I'm still sure that I ate some of it, memorable or not. Plus I didn't mention that there were bowls of jelly beans sitting around everywhere, and two of our guests brought candy- and chocolate-filled baskets. And I had to wash it all down with coffee laced with Irish cream liquer.

The DTs from going cold-turkey after that much sugar will probably last all week.

And I'll do it. I'll get back on the wagon today, and start detoxing from the excessive sugar and starch and caffeine and fat and preservatives and all the other unhealthy components of my vacation diet.

But I reserve the right to complain until I feel better.

I need a catchy name for my complaint. Considering how much junk I've eaten and the length of time I've been eating this way, I'm likely to feel bad for a while. I need a shorthand way of referring to my symptoms, to mask the fact that I've been unapologetically consuming any and all food-like substances within reach for several weeks. Since I know my condition is not my fault, but due to pre-vacation stress, vacation excitement and post-vacation letdown, blaming my behavior on vacation seems to be the best approach.


I'm suffering from Post-Vacation Excessive Eating Letdown.


If I don't get better soon, I can call it a condition. A few weeks of persistent symptoms, and I've got a syndrome. Soon, I'll be able to claim my "disability" and refer to it only in acronym form.


"My P-VEEL is bothering me today."

Hmmm...how would this work...


A neighbor calls to see if I want to take an early morning walk:

Neighbor: Hi, Michele. Ready for a brisk walk on this gorgeous spring morning?

Me: Oh, I'd love to. Really, I would. But my P-VEEL flared up overnight, and I think I'd better take it easy today.

  Another friend calls to see if I can babysit:

Friend: Are you available to watch Baby Lucifer for a couple of hours today?  

Me: I'm feeling terrible today. I think my P-VEEL is coming back.              

Friend: That's awful. But I really need a sitter. Is it contagious? 

 Me: I don't know for sure, but I wouldn't want to take that chance (silent chuckle).

P-VEEL may come in handy for the constant requests to volunteer. I envision my answer to the next email response to bake something, or sell tickets, or chair a committee:

Dear Mrs. Slavedriver,
     I regret to inform you that I've been diagnosed with P-VEEL and will be unable to assist with any more of your pointless projects. Please remove me from your volunteer list and purge every trace of my contact information from your files.

Yours in eternal exhaustion,

Michele Arnett

I'm beginning to see some real advantages to having a scary-sounding diagnosis. In a perfect world, it would most commonly flare up on Monday mornings and could last through Friday afternoons. Treatment options would include rest, sunshine and live-in help.


(Cue haunting music):

P-VEEL -  are you at risk? Research into a cure has been affected due to the poor economy and budget cuts. Please give generously to your local P-VEEL foundation. 

Alright. Enough already. I'm done blogging as an excuse to goof off.


I'm healthy, well-fed, well-rested, laying around my climate-controlled home in comfy pajamas on a cushy chair, drinking imported coffee. Whining. It's time I get up and get going. Earn my keep. Clean my kitchen. Walk my dogs. Sew something. Weed the front garden. Take a jog on the treadmill.


Or get started on my new favorite most important list:


The Netflix Instant Queue.

Tuesday's Term-Turnaround

Did you ever see Tuesday on the calendar and think, "what a useless day!" Tuesday gets the short shrift in the heirarchy of days. It's not manic, it's not a hump, no one ever thanks God it's Tuesday. If Tuesday was one of Snow White's dwarfs, it would be Sneezy. (ADD moment - why are they not dwarves?)

I decided to rectify this neglectful attitude with an exciting new weekly entry called Tuesday's Term Turnaround. With such a cumbersome name, it's bound to be a very short-lived tradition, but I'm going to try it out and see what happens.

The idea is that there so are many words and terms in common usage that have practically lost their impact, often because of overuse, that perhaps a vocabulary tune-up is in order.

This week's entries are: hate (v.), job (n.),  literally (adv.), hot (adj.) and bitch (v.).


Let's leave the naughtiest ones for last, if you don't mind.  And if you have to ask which one I mean, you are way too young to be reading this column in the first place.

HATE

In the course of a normal day, I have heard people remarking that they "hate" the following:

pollen, high heels, Daylight Saving Time, driving, T-ball, the season premiere of "Mad Men," chlorine, Rick Santorum, spreading mulch, buying gasoline, Duke's basketball team and getting the lawnmower out of storage.

While it is possible to understand a feeling of dislike associated with any one of these entries, no one item on the list seems to rise to the level of engendering hatred.  The Oxford English Dictionary defines hate thusly: 

a. v. trans. To hold in very strong dislike; to detest; to bear malice to. The opposite of to love.

As an transitive verb, hate needs a direct object. All those items in the list theoretically receive hate from the hater. Doesn't it seem that most of those people, things, events and tasks could benefit from a more precise description of the emotion being experienced? Shouldn't intelligent people save the term "hate" for the direst circumstances, the most awful objects?


I'd like to propose some synonyms, a few of which I only just learned while researching for this blog. Here are a few you might like to try, with substitution examples:


No: I hate high heels.
Acceptable: I dislike wearing high heels.
Very specific: I love how high heels make my legs look, but I dislike how they treat my feet.


No: I hate pollen.
Acceptable: Pollen irritates my allergies.
Verbal gymnastics: I experience intense loathing for the microscopic particles which produce the profusion of spring flowers, because they trigger an allergic reaction which causes me to call in sick for April.


No: I hate buying gasoline.
Acceptable: The price of gasoline makes me upset.
Best in show: I bear extreme malice toward the rich speculators and/or greedy corporations responsible for the exorbitant cost of gasoline.


See how easy it is to re-route your thinking and find appropriate, precise words to help you make your point? And if you want to throw in a little Austenesque phraseology, try this:


"I am ill-disposed to accept my doctor's recommendation that I refrain from consuming Blizzards."


On a side note, I found some nice synonyms for "hateful," a word I probably rely on too much and use too loosely. I think it's a southern thing. Next time I want to describe someone who criticizes my dogs or makes fun of my sewing, instead of calling them hateful, I'll use "mordacious," which means biting or severe. I can hardly wait to be insulted so I can fling out my new harsh word. Mordacious. I like the sound of that.

JOB
In this era of high unemployment, everyone within spitting distance of a microphone talks about jobs. But the word "job" is so vague. People who are unemployed lack a paying job, but there are many other definitions of "job" that refer to unpaid employment. Synonyms for job include activity, assignment, career, chore, engagement, livelihood, occupation, position, profession, vocation and work.  This incomplete list demonstrates that there should be no problem finding other word choices. Let's try a little replacement exercise. A friend recently made this remark:

"The first job on my to-do list today is to get a haircut and a manicure."

In this sentence, the word job implies work, but the events listed hardly qualify.  (There is also the issue of singular job and multiple treatments, but I digress.) Perhaps a more accurate sentence would read:

"My first activity of the day is to go to the salon and have a mani/pedi. I only mention it because your ragged cuticles and split ends reminded me that I am overdue for some pampering."

See how much more precise and descriptive that sounds? A well-to-do person who does not need to earn a living by holding down a job should use the word sparingly. Now I'll pull a quote from the news:

"If elected, I'll single-handedly create more jobs than all the presidents going back to Millard Fillmore - combined!"

A better alternative to this typically empty campaign promise would read:

"If elected, I'll provide many new career choices in my cabinet for entrenched lawmakers and lobbyists, make huge changes to the Labor Department resulting in re-categorizing the entire national professional index to disguise the fact that the same number of workers have new titles for their vocations, and by repealing every unpopular law enacted in the past 100 years, I'll create millions of entry-level paper shredder positions!"

Here's a short list of available synonyms :   task, work, business, undertaking, vocation, chore, duty, assignment.


Teachers give assignments; parent assign chores; daily life includes tasks; you can have a position as a volunteer, you can earn a living by having a career or a profession. Not all jobs are work, and not all work is a job. I write almost every day because I task myself to do so. I don't earn any money, I don't have an employer and I don't write to put food on the table. I write as an "occupation," because it occupies my time and I do it for reasons of self-satisfaction. I also keep house and am a wife and mother. In that sense, I work all the time, but I still don't have a "job." Do you agree?


Note to self: Write a blog about the most useless parenting phrase of all: "Good job!"

LITERALLY

This term is literally the most misused  word in the English language. Okay, not really. And very few occasions in everyday life warrant the usage of "literally." In fact, you could add another overused word to describe the overuse of "literally:" the word "literally" is "abused" in common speech. 


That's because the word literally refers to precision, accuracy and exactness. It should never be used to describe things that didn't happen, but it usually is used that way. The word is intended to precede a true statement; the translated meaning is "with truth to the letter." But most people, myself included, use "literally" as a term of emphasis or exaggeration. Let's look at some real-life examples and some alternatives:


"I literally died when he offered me a piece of gum at the bus stop."
"I nearly lost control of my bladder and my saliva when he offered me a piece of gum at the bus stop."


"That book was literally the most boring book in the history of the world."
"I fell asleep on page two and didn't wake up until I saw the words 'The End.'"


"I literally only had yogurt and water for a week but I gained literally about 20 pounds."
"No one saw me eat anything but yogurt or water all week, but the scale knows the ugly truth."


"That was the hardest exercise class I've ever been to; I literally can't move an inch. Want to go to Target?"
"Before the soreness sets in, let's engage in retail therapy while I tell you about all the amazing and difficult calorie-burning activities I did while you sat home blogging."


"Peyton Manning literally broke a billion hearts when he signed with the Broncos."
"I hate the Colts."


I hope these examples demonstrate my point. We should all reserve "literally" for statements which involve facts, truth and exactness, and avoid using it to convey an extreme emotion or exaggerate the impact of an event. If everyone would literally just completely stop saying literally, I think the world would be a better place in, like, literally, five minutes.


HOT


The overuse and misuse of "hot" is nothing new; "hot" has been used to describe a good-looking person, a high-performance car and popular new TV shows for many years. Although the primary dictionary definition pertains to temperature, it seems to rarely be used for that measure; instead, it is usually invoked to describe the attractiveness or desirability of a person or thing. When I was growing up, however, mere mortals weren't referred to as "hot." The term was reserved for the likes of Sophia Loren and Elvis Presley, people who oozed sex appeal without any effort. Now it is commonplace to hear a 5th grade girl refer to a 5th grade boy as hot (especially if he has a Justin Bieber haircut). I found this trend disturbing when I heard my own child call a boy hot, but like so many words, the meaning has been diluted to the point where calling a person "hot" is just another way of saying they aren't ugly.


I think that we must experience some kind of psychological safety when using short, amorphous words to describe things we actually like. It's easier to call a guy "hot" than to say you like the way he wears his hair or the thoughtful comments he makes in English class. Sometimes the finer points of why we like something are difficult to articulate, like the integrated bumper or mosaic-like taillights of a "hot" Jaguar convertible. But then there's the sexiness component of "hot," where a person can obliquely refer to experiencing strong physical attraction to someone. It make the word take on entirely too many mature connotations for such common, flippant use. 


Let's deconstruct "hot:"


hot - a temperature measurement. Correct uses: An outdoor temperature of 98F can be called "a hot day." If you stick your finger in a flame, your finger will experience the sensation of uncomfortable heat, therefore, "the fire is hot." Incorrect use: "I'm wearing this sweater skiiing, because that ugly coat you bought is too hot." 


hot - a measure of attractiveness. Common use: "The fact remains, Edward sparkles and emotes with deep intensity, but he's nowhere near as hot as a shirtless Jacob." Correct use: "Sean Connery looks hot at every age."  Excepting 007, substitute the following words for "hot" to describe a pleasant appearance: 

attractive, handsome, pretty, alluring, pleasing, good-looking, magnetic, fetching, agreeable, winning, beefcake and hunky.

hot - as in "new and popular:: Common use: "The hot-selling IPhone 12 is pre-loaded with a rocket launcher and can microwave a Hot Pocket with the screen.." Plenty of synonyms are available at thesaurus.com, such as: 

approved, cool*, dandy, favored, fresh, glorious, groovy*, in demand, just out, keen, latest, marvelous, neat*, nifty*, peachy*, popular, recent, sought-after, super, trendy, up-to-the-minute.

hot - denoting a strong feeling of physical attraction for another: Correct use: "Mr. Darcy was clearly hot for Elizabeth, but managed to hide that fact until their wedding night." Incorrect use: Almost anything else.  No one under 25 should use "hot" in this way. Furthermore, this feeling should not be discussed in polite conversation. If you cannot restrain yourself from sharing this sensation with others, substitute the word "concupiscent." It is awkward, doesn't roll off the tongue easily like "hot," and it may take you a minute to think of it. Once you do, perhaps you will also reconsider openly discussing such private feelings in the first place. Example: "The vision of Isolde bathing in the pond rendered Tristan concupiscent." If everyone would just adopt this minor change, perhaps some of us would be spared the unpleasant mental pictures resulting from standing next to chatty teenage boys in line at the video store.


Acceptable alternatives, in an emergency: 

lascivious, libidinous, prurient and concupiscent (if you dare).

BITCH


It is hard to believe the stir that was caused by Elton John's song "The Bitch is Back," released in the distant, innocent year of 1974. The radio station I listened to banned it, because the word "bitch" simply wasn't considered an acceptable term for public airwaves. Nowadays, the word has no shame value - anyone can say it to anyone else for any reason. Recently, I heard a mother at the grocery storewith a whiny child of about 3 yell, "Quit your bitchin'" in full hearing of anyone in the produce section. I think it is regrettable that a word which should truly be reserved for dog breeders has achieved such popularity and acceptance in everyday speech.


Part of the problem stems from the fact that "bitch" has developed many meanings, and functions as both a noun and a verb; people find it a very useful crutch in their vocabulary. But in researching the term, I discovered that there are many satisfying alternatives, if people would just take a minute to memorize a new word or two.  For example:


"Bitch" as a measure of difficulty:
"That test was a bitch."
"That test was arduous and challenging. I wish I'd studied more."


"Bitch" as a derogatory description of a person:
"My Body Pump teacher is a bitch."
"My Body Pump teacher is an imposing lady with a formidable teaching style."


"Bitch" as a verb, as in nag:
"Why do you bitch every Sunday when I'm trying to keep up with 12 games at one time?"
"Why do you complain as if football was not the single most important thing about the weekend?"


For the more liguistically ambitious, I have a few more synonyms you should try:

virago: an aggressive woman.
calumniator: a person who accuses, smears, defames or slanders.
termagant: troublemaker.

Every campaign needs a logo

I hope today's installment will help you, in some small way, avoid banausic  (common, ordinary, undistinguished) words and will enable you to replace lazy, hackneyed (cliched, timeworn, quotidian) terms with ones that are precise, descriptive and suited to your intention. (Do you think I should enter the previous sentence in the Parenthetical, Comma-Spliced, Run-On Sentence Hall of Fame?)


Perhaps the next time you see Kim Kardashian, instead of saying:
"I hate that stupid show, but that bitch is like, literally, hot,"


you will be inspired to politely remark:
"I intensely dislike her insipid program, but that harridan, Kim Kardashian, is admittedly a fetching young lady."


At long last, this concludes my first installment of Tuesday's Term-Turnaround. I had fun with this piece, but want to apologize if any of my more polite readers were offended by the indelicate language. If there is a next time, I'll try to be more delicate. Which isn't going to be easy, because the nest term-turnaround I want to tackle is "freaking." 


In the meantime, feel free to comment or email with your suggestions for words or phrases that need to be clarified, redefined or retired. I welcome your awesome feedback on this hot topic!