This season is now the visitor who’s overstayed her welcome. When winter usually arrives, I’m relieved and ready for the chill. More layers? No problem! We have special hats for this weather, some of which I’ve knitted. The snowstorms are an unexpected bonus that transport me to childhood. I used to live in the thick of blizzard country in Brockport, New York (near Rochester) and remember the storm of 1977 (I watched King Kong). Sam loves to take selfies in front of snowbanks–I have a whole album of his snow selfies. Now the cold has become a PITA. I fell in a nasty, cold puddle. My scarves are wearing scarves–every day for months. There’s nothing like the dry heat in New York apartments, where you wake up feeling as if you drank sawdust all night. Our apartment is already a dark cave, so three months of dim lighting and cold have eroded our spirits. This weekend, at last, there was sun, so Sam and I went for a walk. It didn’t matter where–turns out he needed spices for the lasagna he wanted to make–as long as we stayed outside. The more sun-drenching, the more we were smiling again.
Speaking of not getting a rose, any guesses on who’s taking home the prize that is Juan Pablo on tonight’s Bachelor?
Thinking of Malaysia Airline Flight MH370.
I’m guilty of ending sentences with prepositions. I sometimes use “hopefully” wrong. Maybe I say, “I feel bad” instead of “I feel badly.” Even worse, just recently, I said “absolutely” in an interview (an overused answer, though absolutely viable–just a pet peeve). But here, I will give just a few pet peeves I’ve encountered in the last week–things that made me go grrrrr:
I’d of instead of I’d have. Example: I’d of thought he’d buy me that ice cream. How lazy is that? I know the brain doesn’t always coordinate with the fingers. They type what they sense from those crafty synapses, but this one frightens me. It sounds right!
Nonplussed means confused, not indifferent. Grrrr. She was so nonplussed when Justin Bieber knocked on her door (I’d be indifferent–and confused).
Aspiration vs. inspiration. Zac Effron–though I loved him–mixed up these two at the Oscars. As he said the wrong word, I couldn’t contemplate the future of America without despair. Presenters need to educate themselves just a touch more (Hello, John Travolta). Having trouble breathing/goal to shoot for is not the same as motivation/guiding force. Maybe he’ll learn, or we all will start using aspiration incorrectly.
The apostrophe doesn’t automatically make something plural. You don’t need it just because the word looks uncomfortable without it. Incorrect use of apostrophe makes me cry. I can’t even think of an example because I don’t want to, but I see it in a manuscript at least once every few days.
And now, after this brain burst, I return to House of Cards.
Another diary entry where I bemoan the realities of caring for a pet. Some creative spelling too. I did clean up the “doodle,” by the way.
Still counting the days until I can get another kitten, which could be never.
I’m starting to say things and act the way I’d see “old” people (you know, people, like, in their 40s) do decades ago, but it feels like common sense (and old). On the way to work, I wrap myself up to stay warm. In my twenties, I avoided hats since they’d mess up my hair. In addition to wearing sensible shoes, I watch where I walk for fear of tripping; bones are not so resilient (I’ve never broken one–knock knock knock). A tub of vitamins follows me from meal to meal, though I’m not sure they’re so necessary. I take them anyway and so does Sam*. The memory is fading just a touch, which is why I write and overwrite things down. I think about eating vegetables, too–which are not my go-to anything.
As for time, it’s slipping away and becoming less important. I think I blogged, or maybe that was yesterday. I can’t make sense of the dates on this blog either, but I did accomplish a great deal today–worked at my desk for 8 hours (7.40), ran off to appointments, one of which was as a guest at a fun class on publishing and an engaging interview with Bill Kenower’s Author2Author program for Author magazine. Somehow, I managed to watch last night’s “The Women Tell All” on The Bachelor**. That’s enough inventory for me.
And now to cleanse my palate, I’m mainlining Piers Morgan’s coverage on the strife in Ukraine (not THE Ukraine, officially). My parents and grandparents always retreated in this fashion….
*He likes to torment me about taking Zinc on an empty stomach. Vitamin taker, you know what can happen if you do this. Trust me, our household (by “household” I mean Sam) has tested this out. If you’ve read my book, you understand that this is completely in character.
**I don’t think this season will end well. Juan Pablo is a cutie, but doesn’t seem to be gaga for anyone or ready to settle down. But who am I to say?