for my fellow word nerds

A study in the use of positives for words we use as negatives.

How I Met My Wife
By Jack Winter
(From The New Yorker, July 25, 1994)

It had been a rough day, so when I walked into the party I was very chalant, despite my effort to appear gruntled and consolate.

I was furling my wieldy umbrella for the coat check when I saw her standing alone in a corner. She was a descript person, a woman in a state of total array. Her hair was kempt, her clothing shevelled, and she moved in a gainly way.

I wanted desperately to meet her, but I knew I'd have to make bones about it, since I was travelling cognito. Beknownst to me, the hostess, whom I could see both hide and hair of, was very proper, so it would be skin off my nose if anything bad happened. And even though I had only swerving loyalty to her, my manners couldn't be peccable. Only toward and heard-of behavior would do.

Fortunately, the embarrassment that my maculate appearance might cause was evitable. There were two ways about it, but the chances that someone was flappable as I would be ept enough to become a persona grata or a sung hero were slim. I was, after all, something to sneeze at, someone you could easily hold a candle to, someone who usually aroused bridled passion.

So I decided not to risk it. But then, all at once, for some apparent reason, she looked in my direction and smiled in a way that I could make heads or tails of.

I was plussed. It was concerting to see that she was communicado, and it nerved me that she was interested in a pareil like me, sight seen. Normally, I had a domitable spirit, bu t, being corrigible, I felt capacitated—as if this were something I was great shakes at—and forgot that I had succeeded in situations like this only a told number of times. So, after a terminable delay, I acted with mitigated gall and made my way through the ruly crowd with strong givings.

Nevertheless, since this was all new hat to me and I had not time to prepare a promptu speech, I was petuous. Wanting to make only called-for remarks, I started talking about the hor d'oeuvres, trying to abuse her of the notion that I was sipid, and perhaps even bunk a few myths about myself.

She responded well, and I was mayed tha tshe considered me a savoury character who was up to some good. She told me who she was. "What a perfect nomer," I said, advertently. The conversation becamse more and more choate, and we spoke at length to much avail. But I was defatigable, so I had to leave at a godly hour. I asked if she wanted to come with me. To my delight, she was committal. We left the party together and have been together ever since. I have given her my love, and she has requited it.

my fake eharmony profile matches

Note to Brian, Grant Writing Consultant from Thibodaux: Do not say you love literature and then list the last book you read as a John Grisham novel.

Note to Josh, Civil Engineer from LaPlace: It's called punctuation. Look it up. Use it.

Note to Lee, Network Administrator from Dallas: You used the word "food" seven times in your short profile. Fat much?

Note to Kris, Business Owner from Austin: Don't mention kissing as one of the things you are passionate about. It's gross.

Note to J, "Business" (?), from Port Allen: First, "J" is not a name. Second, using only the "adjective" non-witchy (with three exclamation points) under "The most important thing I'm looking for in a person" isn't probably going to attract women.

Note to Christopher, IT guy from Metairie: Two things—(1) Following your admission that you are thirty pounds overweight with the statement "under this exterior portion of protection is a body of a Greek god" does not make the thirty pounds go away in my mind. (2) The last book you read quote from profile: "The History of Christianity, it was about The history of Christianity." Really, genius?

Note to Mark, Operations Manager from New Braunfels, TX: Saying "Just because I don't have a smile on my face, it doesn't mean I'm upset about something" screams ISSUES.

Note to Gary, Firefighter/Paramedic from Vicksburg: Saying "Its not all about looks, its what is inside thats most important" just means you're someone I probably wouldn't want to look at.

Note to William, Naval Officer from New Orleans: If you answer "What leisure time?" to the statement "What do you do in your leisure time?", perhaps you shouldn't be thinking about dating.

Note to Ufuk, Reservoir Engineer from New Orleans: Your name is Ufuk, yet you are listed as White. WTF? Is this a subliminal message attempt?

Note to Justin from Lafayette: "d" is not an occupation. Is that a grade point average?

Note to Christopher from Franklinton: If you're 33 and in "retail," please come up with a fake fancy name for your job. Otherwise, girls will think you're a cashier at PayLess.

criteria for the perfect man

So my sister and I have laughed continually over the past several years about this list, so I felt like posting it. When I got divorced, I was damned if I was going to be getting into another relationship that was going to turn out like that, so I created this massive list of characteristics that any guy I dated would have to fit in order for me to be serious about him. Some of it is realistic, and some is ridiculous, but only a few were missing in Tony… Just a good laugh, now.

1. Smart but not arrogant
   
2. Very secure and strong
   
3. Emotionally independent
   
4. Funny
   
5. Understands I will never be his mother
   
6. Self-sufficient
   
7. Accepts everything about me – I am talking clothes, hair, personality, EVERYTHING
   
8. Takes care of me – treats me like a girl – I don't want to have to ALWAYS be the dominant person.
   
9. Not Catholic
   
10. Understands and accepts my parents' religion – enough to not ridicule and to be able to take my parents talking about it
    
11. No overbearing family
    
12. No rich parents – did not grow up rich
    
13. Dad treats Mom/wife well
    
14. No kids
    
15. Never married
    
16. Creative in some way (music, art, writing, etc.). If musical, ABLE TO LISTEN TO A BAND WITHOUT BEING ANNOYING
    
17. Open-minded (politically, religiously, musically, about lifestyles and genders)
    
18. Can talk to me for hours and listens well
    
19. Likes Mexican food – or at least doesn't only eat steaks
    
20. Wants to travel
    
21. Gives a good massage
    
22. Fairly well-educated
    
23. ULTIMATELY RESPECTFUL in all ways
    
24. Likes birthdays and Christmas
    
25. Takes care of me when I'm sick
    
26. Not an obsessive clean freak
    
27. Likes TV/movies and preferably books
    
28. Appreciates my favorite movies: American History X, Reality Bites, The Royal Tenenbaums, The Legend of Billie Jean, Better Off Dead
    
29. Can sit and chill
    
30. No more than five years older/three years younger
    
31. Worships the ground I walk on
    
32. Likes my family
    
33. I like his family
    
34. We like each other's friends
    
35. Has to fit in with Cheyenne and them
    
36. Good kisser
    
37. Doesn't think everyone unlike him is stupid
    
38. If he wants to have kids, agrees with my ideas about them
    
39. Isn't anal about his finances but isn't a spending freak either
    
40. Good looking
    
41. Can argue without being mean
    
42. Happy at job or willing to leave if not – preferably career-oriented
    
43. Not too materialistic
    
44. Cooks well. And a lot.

something i suck at

I may or may not be the worst parent you know, unless you know some child abuser or something. I just either (a) have no idea what to do with Aidan or (b) have screwed things up too much already.

Aidan has some issues that I wish would resolve themselves or I knew how to resolve them. He is SO NEEDY. And I don’t mean like attention-hungry or something. I mean physically needy. He needs constant hugging, and even though he’s four and about half my size at this point, he’s had a resurgence of wanting me to hold him constantly. It’s just not feasible. Between his massive size and my back issues, I just can’t hold him all the time, and I can’t hug him every second of the day.

Today was his first official t-ball game. He was the only kid on the field whining and wanting to leave the field. And he’s not the only four year old there. In fact, when he was on the field, he actually kept lifting his arms toward me, wanting me to hug him. At some point, it’s a problem. I mean, not only is it affecting his ability to participate with the other kids, but he’s getting to the age where I’d think he’d want to be a “big boy” and not be considered a baby. Even Liam is way more independent than Aidan is, emotionally.

I don’t spend any more time with Liam than I do Aidan, and I don’t give them any real difference of physical affection, so it can’t be a logical jealousy thing. I just keep thinking, what can I do to make him be more independent? If I keep him with me all the time, he’s too dependent on me, and I can’t get ANYTHING done. If I bring him to daycare for a regular routine, I feel like maybe that’s why he needs more attention from me, even though I know he’s fine once I leave. I let him do things for himself around the house, like try to get his own snacks and get dressed himself and bathe himself and stuff like that. It’s only the emotional stuff.

I just feel like he’s so whiny that it’s starting to make me feel like a horrible parent. I don’t know what to do to make him not whine. He doesn’t whine like that around Carol, so why me?

feelin’ mighty ashy

Okay, so I bought this stuff at Bath and Body Works a while back. It was a new product - a scented body oil that allegedly turned into lotion. I am all about any type of new lotion that may actually moisturize my dry dry dry skin here in the desert. I hadn't tried it yet, so I thought I'd try it the other night. I think it was Wednesday. I lathered myself up with it before I went to bed.

The next day, my legs were like cracked, parched desert patches. My arms were almost just as bad. I was itchy and disgusting. I was like, WTF? I used copious amounts of my most expensive lotion on both legs and arms to repair. No dice. I put lotion on more than once that day. The next day, more copious lotioning.

Yesterday, I was cleaning up and grabbed the stupid new bottle to throw it in the trash. My eye then caught a phrase on the front: "Body Wash." Yes, I had lathered my arms and legs up with soap and then went straight to bed. Because that's good for the skin. Needless to say, my skin is still recovering. Ugh.

the little munch

So I walk by my bedroom door and see Aidan is a suspicious spot, so I say, "What are you doing?"

He immediately pops up and I see that he's playing with my sewing box, which he doesn't normally go around. It was my aunt Beverly's before she died, so I keep them away from it. I say, "Get away from that box."

He says, "But, Mommy, I'm using it as my evil instrument of torture."

update on elderly jerk

A few updates on the old man jerk who bought our old house. First, I did some Googling. Turns out he lived a full SEVEN MINUTES from our house. Yeah, that warrants constant pressure on us to move immediately.

Secondly, when Tony went to bust the couch up, he said that EVERY TIME he said "sir" to the man (because you know Tony was all "yes, sir" and "no, sir", the stupid old man consistently said, "reverend." In other words, he expected Tony to refer to him as Reverend, even just in common conversation. Tony said he specifically never used the word, not only because it's ridiculous and "he's not my reverend," but specifically to tick the old man off.

I can just see my dad going around forcing everyone on the planet to refer to him as some clerical name. That is so stupid, and it makes me want to punch that old man in the face.

On a related note, for all his "reverendship", I have been unable to locate any reference anywhere that affiliates him with any church for which is a reverend.

mismatch

So my sister Candace sometimes messes around on those online dating sites. She's not looking for love, just for some interesting people to hang out with, maybe make some friends to go out with occasionally. This week, while she was here, we did some fun jacking around on eharmony. We laughed at some of the people that they matched with her, answered some questions that some of the decent ones sent. I was curious about it in general, wondering who they'd match with me, so I filled out a profile for myself under a fake name. You can do it for free, you just can't see anyone's pics or actually contact anyone, and since I don't care, I don't have to pay to see any of that.

I actually got some pretty decent matches, profile-wise. They could all be trolls, since I couldn't see the pics, but their profiles were pretty interesting. A construction engineer (28), a music professor from SLU (who, coincidentally, I found online, and while his looks aren't appealing, he's not a total troll). A biologist (30), a surgeon (34), some other sundry individuals. Two of them requested communication and multiple asked that I post photos. Hehehehe.

Candace thought I was getting pretty good matches, so she got me to fill out a profile under her real name with my attributes, and she actually found some decent potentials. The main thing was that most of mine were "local" (I said I was from Prairieville, and mine were all Baton Rouge, Hammond, surrounding areas), while Candace was getting a bunch in like Texas and north Louisiana.

Then, for fun, we also filled a profile out for Tony. We used all his real info except his name, and we said he was an attorney rather than a teacher. He got some awesome matches as well (in the Prairieville area). Nurses, several doctoral students. So we've both been having fake profiles on there for a few days, but with our real attributes… And apparently, we do not match, since eharmony has not matched us up yet. Weird. Anyway, it's hilarious to see what some people put.

house selling rant. hopefully the last one.

Okay, so we have moved totally into the house. Everything is here, although not yet put away; we have our check from the remaining money; all the papers are signed.

When we were moving, we left this couch in the downstairs living room. God knows how we even got it down there in the first place, but we've never been able to move it out. They tried and couldn't do it, so we just left it there. Frankly, the jerks who bought the house have been difficult asses the entire process. They came up suddenly and wanted to give us THREE WEEKS to find a house and move out of our old house. We thought maybe they were coming in from out of state (which is total BS anyway, because who waits till three weeks before moving to find a house to purchase?), but NO. They are from here. And I've never heard of an apt or house lease that ended on the 8^th of a month, so it was just a matter of being jerks that made them have us out so fast.

So we fly around, find a house, get all our paperwork, inspections, appraisals, loan stuff, everything done. THE WEEK we are supposed to move out, they still haven't had their bank appraiser come to our house, and so three days before we are supposed to be moving out, their appraiser comes and we find out we have to extend our gutters and take bars off the downstairs living room windows. So we fly around doing that so the sale can go through. Yeah, you need us out hurriedly by the 8^th, but you are too dumb to even have your crap together by the 3^rd. We had less time, and all our stuff was done, including actually finding a house.

We go to the closing, and they show up to do their paper signing in another room. The couple is about, no exaggeration, AT LEAST 80 years old. And not a spry 80. A decrepit, we-can-barely-walk 80. And the lady is walking with a freaking cane. Yeah, because you need a five bedroom house. Those bastards are not even making it down the stairs. I can't even make it down without falling, and I don't have a cane or a hunch back. We go to meet them to be friendly, and the jerks don't even make eye contact with us. They stare into space in front of them while they pretend to make small talk, which you know I hate. I am being nice with the small talk, and you're being a jerk, which makes me want to shout expletives even more than I already want to with the banter.

All this past week, we've toted carloads of crap from old house to new to be ready to move on Saturday, since we HAVE to be out by the 8^th. Saturday, Tony, his dad, and two friends work like Egyptian slaves behind a whip loading a moving truck and driving back and forth, and we make more numberless trips between houses. By Saturday night, we've got everything out except for the couch, which we just left. Admittedly, they might not want the couch, but on a massive time constraint and without wanting to destroy their stairway, we just left it. I'm saying, they can't even make it down the stairs, and frankly, free couch. In a room they'll never see.

I went by this morning to leave the second key and to leave a note saying that we'd left the couch for their discretion because with the time constraints, we didn't have time to get the couch out without messing up the walls. Oh, in their BIG EFFING RUSH to move into the house, no one is there. Nine am, and nary a truck or box to be seen.

So we get a call from our realtor, who, frankly, I am done with. He's annoyed the crap out of me for six months. The deal is done, papers signed, commission paid, now get out of my life. Apparently, they are all up in arms about the couch. Tony tells our realtor that he will go over there and break the couch into pieces and carry it out to the trash. He drives all the way over there, and no one is there. He uses the garage door code, but the door inside the garage is locked. He comes all the way back home, and calls our realtor, who, jerk that he is, just gives Tony their realtor's number rather than taking care of it himself. Tony calls her to set up the meeting at the house. According to their realtor, that couch, in ONE room of the downstairs, which again, THEY CAN'T WALK DOWN ANYWAY, is apparently holding up their entire move. Yeah, because you can't move furniture in the upstairs or bring boxes or clothes or anything in, because the couch downstairs is preventing the entire move.

All I can say is, they better be glad Tony is going and not me. The stupid old man is meeting him there, and if it were me, I don't think I'd be able to get through it without rudely saying something about our having to be out so fast and their jerkiness when clearly they aren't in any rush to get into the house.

Yet another reason for me to hate HATE HATE the general public. And a little statement that I should never be a realtor, because I am reminded that home buyers are jackasses and idiots just like the general public.

reality tv possibly too ridiculous even for me

Okay, here are some highlights for those of you not watching "I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here." I ran across it last night when nothing was on (must we show wrestling on my SVU/House rerun channel?). Then tonight, it's on again, and I'm watching it, which is just a testament to my dislike for the particular House rerun that's on. Although, wait, I just realized that regular Law and Order is on, so perhaps I won't be watching the rest of the show. Anyway, back to IACGMOOH: It's truly unbelievable. I don't know if I'll be watching it regularly, but how hilarious is it when I catch it? Mucho.

So tonight, Heidi, of "The Hills" fame (Is that the right show? I don't watch any of those shows, so I mainly know Heidi and Spencer from watching "The Soup") professes that her plan in life is to be godly, in her words, "like Mother Teresa." This in a conversation with Stephen Baldwin, who went through a speech about how Spencer needs to be baptized. So, in the process, they go to the confessional camera with Spencer. He goes on to explain how it astounds him that Heidi prays every day, and that things come true when she prays for him. His example? That one time Heidi convinced him to pray for something he really wanted, and he prayed that they could double date with Miley Cyrus. And they got the date within a month. Yes, that's what I'd like to waste my heavenly gifts on. A double date with Miley Cyrus. This after last night they literally got into a shouting/cussing/Spencer-hitting-females match partially because one of the co-campers tore Heidi's name label off of her designer dry shampoo bottle.

I like Frangela, whom I know from those shows like Best Week Ever. And Janice Dickinson is obviously a reality show whore. The wrestler girl I've never heard of, and really, is Sanjaya from American Idol doing anything else? (On a side note: I love that every time any show plays a clip of Sanjaya from American Idol, it's ALWAYS the one where he sang that Gwen Stefani song, when according to the Hollywood rumors, Gwen Stefani tried to prevent him from singing that song because she thought he sucked so bad.) But, really, Lou Diamond Phillips? Doesn't he have either (a) enough money to avoid these types of things and/or (b) other opportunities that don't involve eating a rat's tail?

Then, tonight, Spencer insists on competing with Heidi on one of the competitions because he refuses to allow Sanjaya to go into the woods with Heidi. Would anyone really be jealous of Sanjaya with his girlfriend? And isn't Sanjaya gay?

I particuarly enjoy, after Spencer's big Christian speech, he then proceeded to describe, by referring to himself in third person, that he doesn't care about his team, that he'd throw their fish dinner in the river just as soon as give it to them.

So just before I changed the channel, Heidi and Spencer tell everyone they're quitting the show (way to commit to something, Pratts) and then decide that Stephen Baldwin is going to baptize him in the river. It's pretty bad when Janice Dickinson is the voice of reason, saying that the baptism is totally bogus. My finger depressed the button the remote just as Spencer came out of the water with his hands raised yelling hallelujah.