Writing As It Was

A long time ago, speech was the main mode of communication. Few people knew how to read, let alone write. Those who were literate were held in high esteem, and only works of great significance were actually written down. Everything else was oral.

Even once most laypeople knew how to read and write, they wrote with care. Letters were often well thought-out chronicles of a person's life and thoughts. They were things which were treasured. Writing was not cheap, either. Ink cost money, paper cost money - a person used these things prudently and conscientiously.

Today, we approach writing differently. Everyone writes. Everyone sends text messages and IMs, people write status messages and emails in shorthand. Whole words are a thing of the past, grammar is ancient history, and how much thought actually goes into most texts and emails? How personally can we actually take a thing of writing addressed to us? How much care goes into those words?

Everyone these days seems to have a blog. The entire world has turned into one big party of journalism. Some aspects of blogging are an imperative part of what brings society together: open communication. The more we are able to communicate with one another and - even more important - the more we are able to actually listen to one another, the greater our understanding will be of those different from ourselves.

Hirhurim linked to an article that has some fair critiques of the blogging world, but that also makes an excellent reminder about what good writing ought to be:

"Writers who expect sustained public inspection tend to think long and hard before publishing. Readers who assume writers have thought long and hard tend to read with intense attention. This leads, in general, to good writing, good reading, and good thinking. Such an environment is a precondition for vigilant citizenship and a civil society vibrant with critical intelligence. What is more, this environment disciplines speedy, prolific, lively writers, ultimately to their own advantage.

Of course I have no idea what policies, programs, or movements could plausibly revive what Postman calls the Typographic Mind. The only solution I know is a slow, personal one: It is the painful discipline of changing my own detestable habits of inattention, sloppiness, and waggish opportunism in daily conversation, whether written or oral, and of writing with the assumption that my reader's attention is generous and his time valuable.

[...]

Certainly, indolence, cowardice, or vanity can hide behind pretended reverence for words, but irreverence seems quite obviously the more pressing danger. A little care and humility is in order, for words are the main vehicle of culture and science, and the vital medium of a free republic. They bind the living and the dead, God and man into a communion of love and knowledge. Words are not lifeblood, except in the sense that they are."

We clearly approach the written word differently today than we did centuries - or even merely decades - ago. But perhaps it's good to remember that writing is a thing which used to be shown respect, that reverence was given to those who were good at it, and that thought and care used to go into every stroke of ink on the page. Maybe we can still treat the written word that way now.

A Told Tale Of The Charted Road Of Credible Love

How I Met My Wife

Jack Winter, 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 efforts to appear gruntled and consolate.

I was furling my weildy 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. Beknowst 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 as flappable as I would be ept enough to become 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 head 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, but, 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 hors d’oeuvres, trying to abuse her of the notion that I was sipid, and perhaps even bunk a few myths about myselfs.

She responded well, and I was mayed that she 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 became 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.

S.A.

I've heard of Alcoholics Anonymous. I've even heard of Over Eaters Anonymous. But there's another kind of abuse that I think requires its own Anonymous group. These abusers make every appreciator of writing cringe - or ought to. If they don't make you cringe, perhaps you should attend a meeting of the newly formed Sesquipedalians Anonymous.

These are the Thesaurus Abusers. They write sentences such as this one:

"The abundance of his leonine mane and the floppiness of his silk cloth conspire to create a sort of vaporous tutu, causing the gentleman to forfeit his customary virility." - The Elegance of the Hedgehog (Hey, I gotta cite my sources.)

Or this:

"Since then, I have gone every day to the butcher's to buy a slice of ham or some calf's liver, which I slip into my net bag between my packet of noodles and my bunch of carrots. I then obligingly flaunt these pauper's victuals - now much improved by the noteworthy fact that they do not smell - because I am a pauper in a house full of rich people and this display nourishes both the consensual cliche and my cat Leo, who has become rather large by virtue of these meals that should have been mine, and who stuffs himself liberally and noisily with macaroni and butter, and pork from the delicatessen, while I am free - without any olfactory disturbances or anyone suspecting a thing - to indulge my own culinary proclivities." - ibid

Of course, there's always this:

"Moreover, a concierge who reads Marx must be contemplating subversion, must have sold her soul to that devil, the trade union. That she might simply be reading Marx to elevate her mind is so incongruous a conceit that no member of the bourgeoisie could ever entertain it.

'Say hello to your mother,' I murmur as I close the door in his face, hoping that the complete dissonance between my two sentences will be veiled by the might of millennial prejudice." - ibid

I don't know about dissonance between her sentences, but I'm pretty sure there's some dissonance between what she's trying to say and the decorative cloak she's throwing over it. It doesn't even work as a piece of irony, unless she's trying to be so ironic that she overdid herself and ended up sounding like a college freshman trying to impress her English Comp. teacher.

As a professor in Stern once said:

"Don't write: the conflagration consumed the edifice. Do write: the house burned down."

The professor then left the class with this bit of advice: "Eschew the sesquipedalian."

So I encourage all of us to eschew our own inner sesquipedalian. Realize that mastering the English language does not mean using its fanciest words at every given opportunity. It means understanding how to use simple words to convey your sophisticated (or not so sophisticated) ideas aptly and precisely.

Thank you.

Very Like A Whale

By Ogden Nash

One thing that literature would be greatly the better for
Would be a more restricted employment by authors of simile and metaphor.
Authors of all races, be they Greeks, Romans, Teutons or Celts,

Can't seem just to say that anything is the thing it is but have
to go out
   of their way to say that it is like something else.
What does it mean when we are told
That the Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold?

In the first place, George Gordon Byron had had enough experience
To know that it probably wasn't just one Assyrian, it was a lot
of Assyrians.
However, as too many arguments are apt to induce apoplexy and thus

   hinder longevity,
We'll let it pass as one Assyrian for the sake of brevity.
Now then, this particular Assyrian, the one whose cohorts were gleaming
   in purple and gold,
Just what does the poet mean when he says he came down like a wolf

on
   the fold?
In heaven and earth more than is dreamed of in our philosophy there
are
   a great many things,
But i don't imagine that among then there is a wolf with purple
and gold
   cohorts or purple and gold anythings.

No, no, Lord Byron, before I'll believe that this Assyrian was actually
   like a wolf I must have some kind of proof;
Did he run on all fours and did he have a hairy tail and a big red
mouth and
   big white teeth and did he say Woof woof?

Frankly I think it very unlikely, and all you were entitled to say,
at the
   very most,
Was that the Assyrian cohorts came down like a lot of Assyrian cohorts
   about to destroy the Hebrew host.
But that wasn't fancy enough for Lord Byron, oh dear me no, he had

to
   invent a lot of figures of speech and then interpolate
them,
With the result that whenever you mention Old Testament soldiers
to
   people they say Oh yes, they're the ones that a lot
of wolves dressed

   up in gold and purple ate them.
That's the kind of thing that's being done all the time by poets,
from Homer
   to Tennyson;
They're always comparing ladies to lilies and veal to venison,
And they always say things like that the snow is a white blanket

after a
   winter storm.
Oh it is, is it, all right then, you sleep under a six-inch blanket
of snow and
   I'll sleep under a half-inch blanket of unpoetical
blanket material and
   we'll see which one keeps warm,

And after that maybe you'll begin to comprehend dimly,
What I mean by too much metaphor and simile.

Greater Than Me

There is an important piece of grammar that I think basically everyone I know gets wrong. English majors get it wrong, professors get it wrong, TV shows get it wrong, people on the news get it wrong - like I said, most people I know personally or see in the public eye get it wrong.

I admit - especially for an English major - I have a high tolerance for grammatical errors. I don't cringe every time someone messes up. I notice it, but I let it go. I'm chill.

This error gets to me every time, though. Not because it's an error, either, but because it's a conscious error. It's people deliberately making this mistake because they think it's correct. And that bothers me.

Do you remember, growing up, when you used to say things like, "Emily and me are going out to play?"

I'm sure some adult (parent? teacher?) would gently correct you with, "Emily and I."

So you learn, "Emily and I are going out to play."

Great!

And forever after, you are conscious of not making the same error twice. But that eventually translates into...

"Would you like to come play with Emily and I?"

This should be right, shouldn't it? After all, you remember going over and over, "Emily and I, Emily and I, get this right, it's Emily and I."

Wrong!

You see, when I was taking Latin, I learned about two grammatical cases that most people would probably translate as "subject" and "object." They were called "nominative" and "accusative" and they have different endings that I had to memorize, just like in English, really, but we don't think of it that way in English. Now, the nominative word or subject of the sentence is not what the sentence is about, but who or what is doing the action of the sentence. So in the sentence, "Emily and I are going out to play," Emily and I are doing the action. We are the subjects of the sentence. "I" is the nominative version of first person singular (I, me).

However, in the sentence, "Would you like to come play with Emily and me?" the person doing the action is "you." You are coming to play, even though it's a question. If you turn it into a statement, it would be, "You like to come play with Emily and me." Not "Emily and I," but "Emily and me." "Me" is the accusative version of first person singular. "Emily and me" are the objects because the action is being done to them, or with them, or for them, etc.

You might be thinking, "okay, but in normal speech, no one is thinking that carefully about how they structure their sentences." True - but, first of all, you should! The more you try to be grammatically correct, the more naturally it'll come to you, and then you won't have to think about it anymore. But I know, if you don't care, and if no one else seems to care (except crazy grammar freaks), then what's the big deal?

The big deal here is that people constantly make this mistake because they are trying to be grammatically correct and doing it wrong.

Here's an easy way to remember the correct word to use for "I" and "me." Change it to third person.

Naturally, you'd know to say, "She goes out to play" but "I go out to play with her." You wouldn't say, "I go out to play with she," would you?

She, he, I. Him, her, me. That's how it goes.

"Emily and me" can be correct and is correct when used properly.

Remember that!

Nondescript Descriptions

When you're reading a well-written book, it's generally expected that each of the characters in it will have unique characteristics separating them from each other, so that it doesn't feel like you're reading about a bunch of cardboard cutouts who all have the same personality. There are certain words, in my own writing and speaking, that I like to avoid. One of those words is "nice." Another is "cute." Sometimes, those words actually make sense. For instance, a two year old is cute. A weekend can be nice.

But when someone is describing a guy to me and the only adjective I get is "nice," well, great - so I know he's not a bully. But what does that really tell me? If you think of all your good friends, I'll bet you can describe them all as "nice." But that would be lumping them all together in the "nice" category when there are so many things which set them apart! So if someone thinks a guy is good for a girl - why? Because they're both nice people? So many people are nice! That's almost like saying, "he's a guy" (I know, I know, there are also plenty of people out there who aren't nice, but still). Why else? Why should this particular nice girl want to date this particular nice guy?

This extends even outside dating. If you want to recommend someone for any reason - there's always got to be more you can say about him/her than just "nice."

The issue I have with "cute" is that it often gets used in an "lol" kind of way. If someone tells you a story or about something that happened to him/her and you respond, "cute," it's often just a way of saying, "I don't have much to respond to that so I'm going to brush it off with this little useful word that doesn't really mean anything in this context." Some people actually use it in a way that means they were interested, but way too often it's used in a patronizing kind of fashion. Think about how it would feel if you were the other person - if you had just expended all this energy telling a story and the only response you got was "cute." People use "lol" in much the same way. How many people actually find something funny when they type "lol" (I'm not even going to ask about how many people actually laugh, because that's even fewer). But at least "lol" is not a real word, so it's useful for its purpose.

Cute is also used to describe a person another girl thinks is somewhat amusing, but not really anything more than that. As in, "Her? Oh, she's cute." Or, "aw, she's really cute." Um, hello, if you're not at least ten years older than me, it's very offensive to be thought of in such a patronizing manor! It means you don't take me seriously, you just see me as a little girl.

"Cute," "nice," so many other words...you know what they are? They are masks for people's laziness. We can all, I assure you, think of better ways to describe someone than just "nice" and we can all, if we put in a little effort, react better to the things people tell us than just "cute." I'm not saying anyone should be overly self-conscious about speaking (although it's generally a good idea to think a little before you speak) - I'm just saying it would be nice if people could put in a little more thought while interacting with someone else.

If I were to describe myself, I would not say merely "nice." And if I were to describe this blog, I would not say, "it's cute." I don't think those descriptions really give a taste of anyone, or anything, even on just a surface level.

Word Power

Words have a weird kind of power. As soon as you say something, it's there forever. Sure, the actual sound of the words are gone but the fact that you said them and the fact that people heard cannot be erased. Ever. And even if you say something to no one other than the four walls of an empty room, you'll still know those words came out of your mouth. You'll always know that.

It's amazing how far back people can remember what was said to them. Sometimes words don't have to be even remotely remarkable in order for them to make an impression. You'd be surprised at the random little remarks you don't even remember saying that someone else does.

Why is it that people are so afraid to talk about things which scare them? Does speaking the words actually mean that thing is true? Or going to happen?

Why is it that people are comforted by prayer? Why do people turn to prayer in times of need? What is it about prayer that feels so powerful?

It's words. When we pray, we are actually, physically speaking to G-d. And we, as physical beings, put our faith in physical actions. They mean something to us.

And this is why we have to be so careful with this power we were given - this power of speech.

Over the internet it's a little bit easier because you're not actually saying words. You're typing them. But even then, you have to be careful. Conversations there really can be kept forever - physically. Anything you say about anyone or anything is on record. Even on a blog - if you comment and then decide to delete it - well, sure, it's gone from the blog, but anyone who read it before it was deleted still knows it was there. You can't delete something from someone's memory.

But even more than who or what it is you're speaking about - words can have a profound effect on the speaker, as well. Even if no one actually gets hurt by what you say, even if whomever or whatever you're speaking about never ever knows you said those things, you know you said them. Those words actually came out of your mouth or your fingers actually typed them - however it was said. You did something in order to express something and that's enough.

Obviously not everything people say is negative, but it's so incredibly important to think before you speak and to control yourself before you say something you might really regret, even if you think no harm was done by it. Because you will be effected, whether you think so or not.

On the flip side, words unspoken have weight, too. We shouldn't be afraid to speak out if we need to and we shouldn't be afraid to express ourselves. Words kept inside but never spoken still exist - they're like cooped up balls of energy just bursting to break free and wreak havoc. That's when you really have to be careful.

And, from yet another angle, it's amazing how strong an effect words can have on someone who is upset. A few simple, kind words and you can bring out a smile. Words may not fix problems, but they let people know you're there. They remind people they have a friend who cares. And that's super important.

We have to pick and choose what we say carefully, but without driving ourselves crazy. Obviously you don't have to sit there for five hours thinking before speaking each word that comes out of your mouth, but you shouldn't flippantly just spew things either - especially at times like the heat of the moment.

Words hurt. Words heal. Words stick.

Words are forever, whether you like it or not.

This is for the English majors and other word-lovers:

Mary Poppins:
When trying to express oneself, it's frankly quite absurd,
To leaf through lengthy lexicons to find the perfect word.
A little spontaniaty keeps conversation keen,
You need to find a way to say precisely what you mean...

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Even though the sound of it is something quite atrosicous!
If you say it loud enough, you'll always sound precocious,

Ensemble:
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Um-diddle-diddle-um-diddleye
Um-diddle-diddle-um-diddleye

Mary Poppins:
When Stone Age men were chatting, merely grunting would suffice.

Bert:
Now if they heard this word, they might have used it once or twice!

Mrs. Corry:
I'm sure Egyptian pharoahs would have grasped it in a jiff,
Then every single pyramid would bear this hieroglyph;

Oh!
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Say it and wild animals would not seem so ferocious!

Mary Poppins:
Add some further flourishes, it's so ro-co-co-coscious!

Ensemble:
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Um-diddle-diddle-um-diddleye
Um-diddle-diddle-um-diddleye
Um-diddle-diddle-um-diddleye
Um-diddle-diddle-um-diddleye

Bert:
The Druids could have carved it on their mighty monoliths!

Mrs. Corry:
I'm certain the ancient Greeks would have used it in their midst!

Mary Poppins:
I'm sure the Roman Empire only entered the abyss,
Because those Latin scholars never had a word like this!

Ensemble:
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!

Mary Poppins:
If you say it softly the effect can be hypnoscious!

Bert:
Check your breath before you speak, in case it's halitotious!

Ensemble:
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Um-diddle-diddle-um-diddleye
Um-diddle-diddle-um-diddleye
Um-diddle-diddle-um-diddleye
Um-diddle-diddle-um-diddleye

Mary Poppins (spoken):
Of course you can say it backwards, which is Suoicodilaipxecitsiligarfilacrepus!

Michael (spoken):
She may be tricky, but she's bloody good!

Mary Poppins:
So when the cat has got your tongue, there's no need for dismay!
Just summon up this word and then you've got a lot to say!

Bert:
Pick out those eighteen consonants and sixteen vowels as well,
And put them in an order which is very hard to spell...

Mary Poppins:
S-u-p-e-r
C-a-l-i-f-
R-a-g-i-l-

Jane and Michael:
I-s-t-i-c-e-x-p-i-a-l-i-d-o-c-i-o-u-s!

Ensemble:
S-u-p-e-r
C-a-l-i-f-
R-a-g-i-l-
I-s-t-i-c-e-x-p-i-a-l-i-d-o-c-i-o-u-s!

S-u-p-e-r
C-a-l-i-f-
R-a-g-i-l-
I-s-t-i-c-e-x-p-i-a-l-i-d-o-c-i-o-u-s!

S-u-p-e-r
C-a-l-i-f-
R-a-g-i-l-
I-s-t-i-c-e-x-p-i-a-l-i-d-o-c-i-o-u-s!

Bert (spoken):
Here we go!

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Even though the sound of it is something quite atroscious!
If you say it loud enough, you'll always sound precocious,
Supercalifragilistic-

Jane and Michael:
Supercalifragilistic-

Ensemble:
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!

As you might have guessed, I saw Mary Poppins today on Broadway and it was spectacular. It wasn't Les Miz, it wasn't Wicked, but it was definitely an amazing show. I absolutely loved the way it didn't try to copy the movie but instead went completely in its own direction. I think when you're competing with something as classic and legendary as the Mary Poppins movie, and especially a production by Julie Andrews, it's best to do your own thing and to reinterpret the story and the roles in a way that makes it your own as opposed to trying to mimic the greats. Mimicking will get you nowhere aside from comments like, "she was good, but not Julie Andrews" or "it was fun, but it wasn't the movie." I actually found Ashley Brown's (the actress) portrayal of Mary Poppins to be COMPLETELY different from the one characterized by Julie Andrews, and it worked well. Gavin Lee, who played Bert, did seem like he was modeling himself after Dick Van Dyke, but that worked just fine anyway. I think that particular role does work best the way Dick Van Dyke did it and Gavin Lee was good enough to pull it off. I was sad about the noticeable (for me) absence of the suffragette song, but there were enough fun, new songs and new scenes that made it a great show, anyway. It was based a lot more on the books than the movie, which was a nice move on their part. Also, fun fact for SJ, Ashley Brown ALSO played Belle on Broadway. :D

Highly recommended if you're in the mood for some good, quality fun!

True heroism

Whoever has been reading my blog for a while now probably knows I have this desire to be a hero. The question is, though, how do you define "hero?" There are silent heroes, there are leading heroes, but what does it mean to actually be a hero?

The Merriam-Webster online dictionary defines a hero as thus:

Main Entry:

he·ro

Pronunciation:

\ˈhir-(ˌ)ō\

Function:

noun

Inflected Form(s):

plural heroes

Etymology:

Latin heros, from Greek hērōs

Date:

14th century

1 a: a mythological or legendary figure often of divine descent endowed with great strength or ability b: an illustrious warrior c: a man admired for his achievements and noble qualities d: one that shows great courage
2 a: the principal male character in a literary or dramatic work b: the central figure in an event, period, or movement
3 plural usually heros : submarine 2
4: an object of extreme admiration and devotion : idol

Joseph Campbell defines a hero like this:

A hero is any male or female who leaves the world of his or her everyday life to undergo a journey to a special world where challenges and fears are overcome in order to secure a reward (special knowledge, healing potion, etc.) which is then shared with other members of the hero’s community.

The Greeks, on the other hand, saw a hero as someone of high, noble birth who had to bring order to a disordered world and usually displayed virtue, courage, and chivalry while doing so.

Until recently, my vision of a hero was some odd mixture of all of these. However, there is another kind of heroism that I have discovered this past weekend. There is no fancy term for it. Just a key phrase. Standing strong in what you believe.

An unspoken policy on my blog is not to write about other people. There are too many risks involved of that person finding out and of the writer getting into trouble for it. However, like all rules and policies, this one sometimes is meant to be broken.

I want to write about a close family friend whose peers are busy learning in Israel or off to college. He, however, is headed somewhere else. He is going to Iraq.

For any marine going to Iraq, that act alone is one of heroism. But that is the obvious kind of heroism. That is the kind of heroism that is talked about all the time, that is written about in books, that is lauded and admired - and for good reason. But for this specific marine, there is more to it than that. It is not every day that you hear of a Jewish boy joining the American marines. In Israel, Jewish boys join the army all the time. In America...not so much. So what does it mean when a Jewish American boy joins the marines?

I'll tell you. It means he has a great sense of purpose in what he wants for himself. He is not someone who does things "because it is done." Far too many people do that when they go to Israel to learn for a year (or two, or three) after high school. This family friend is doing something because he believes in it and because he feels it is right. That, to me, is heroism.

I don't mean to say that every time someone goes against the grain of what is expected, it is heroic. But I believe that true heroism is when a person can see past "everyone else" and, in doing so, sees himself. It is a great and wondrous thing to find oneself in the midst of the general crowd. It is so easy to get lost there and most people do, but to have the strength to pull out and truly be oneself is an act of heroism.

I wish him much luck and success on his journey, where he will undoubtedly be met with various trials and tests. I hope he passes all of them with flying colors and comes back safely. I also hope that he gains something from this incredible experience in his life. But no matter what happens, he will always be a hero.



Semper fi!

The Not Much Syndrome

We've all got it. The Not Much Syndrome. That socially serious disease which causes us to respond, "not much" every time we're asked, "what's up?"

It's become almost required to begin a conversation:

"Hey!"
"Oh, hey! What's up?"
"Not much, you?"
"Not much."

Pause.

"So anyway,..."

Why do we do it? Why do we say 'not much' when that just can't be true? Something is always up. It may not be something drastic, but it could be something as simple as, "I had an awesome day today" or "I have so much reading to do tonight." Is it out of habit that we simply reply 'not much?' Or is it something else? Is it because we're afraid? Is there this fear that people just don't care about our lives? About the little things that happen to us? Is there an insecurity that we're just not interesting? That something's only 'up' if it's big news?

I say 'not much' all the time, but I want to try to stop. In order to have normal conversations with people, we have to have actual answers for the 'what's up?' question! Simply 'not much' isn't going to do it. I feel like such a boring person every time I answer 'not much.' Last night, Ezzie kept on asking me, "so, what's up?" and every time I said "not much" and he kept asking. After a while, I started searching for real answers. Oh, yes, my teacher canceled class today. That's an answer.

There is always an answer. We don't live our lives in a bubble. We interact. Things happen to us - even little things. But they are all important and, believe it or not, someone who's really your friend does want to hear those little things. It's what keeps the friendship alive and interesting. Not every discussion has to have enormous weight. It can be frivolous, sometimes. It can be simple. It can be about every day events.

I think it's time we broke out of the Not Much Syndrome.

Vocabulary Lesson #1

Here is a vocabulary lesson for all of you (and on my 100th post, too!).

When you see the word "galumphing," what do you think it means? And for those of you who know the context, don't say anything. I'm going to put that up in my next Vocabulary Lesson post. Right now I just want to see what people say about the word "galumphing" by itself, out of context. Then it's sort of like mad libs when they see it in context! It will be fun to see who changes their mind!

"You Keep On Using That Word, I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means"

This post has nothing to do with words. I just want to make that clear, since the title has everything to do with words. But really I just like the title. And if I could write a post right now about words, I would.

Oh, what the heck. I'll write about words.

Words fascinate me. This is the alphabet: ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ. That's it. That's the whole thing. And out of those twenty-six letters, words, sentences, paragraphs, pages, chapters, stories, novels, whole tomes are written! Out of just twenty-six letters! Amazing. We can take twenty-six little symbols and use them to express ourselves for the rest of our lives, to make up our whole extensive vocabulary. To write science books, philosophy books, historical novels, fantasy, action, adventure, spy novels, biology textbooks, psychology books, movie scripts, plays, poetry, letters, essays, arguments, articles, pamphlets, laws, governmental documents, birthday cards...you name it. Incredible.

And now, for the subject I intended to write about when I started this post. Movies. I was thinking about the sort of movies I like and the sort I don't like. I used to not be very picky, just so long as it was appropriate and not gory or too violent. Now, though, I've become almost afraid of drama. I can't watch it. Sap makes me squirm, too much drama makes me squirm, everything that is serious and not light and funny makes me squirm. Why is that? I don't know, am I so insensitive? Am I too sensitive? It's weird. I recently realized that I don't like watching movies that make me feel sad, depressed, or serious afterwards. It isn't like I don't enjoy being in a contemplative mood, because believe me, I do (would I keep a blog if I didn't?), but when it comes to entertainment - I like to be entertained. To me, being entertained means being put in a good mood, it means feeling happy, enjoying life, that sort of thing. I just don't get that from serious movies. And as amazing as some serious movies are, I can't bring myself to want to watch them.

But then I ask myself, am I so shallow that I only like movies that are funny? It got to the point where, I used to hate chick flicks because I thought they were stupid, now I kind of like them (if they're not too dumb) because at least they're light and fun and don't make me feel serious afterwards. I don't know why I shy so much away from feeling serious. Maybe it's because I'm afraid to let my guard down and actually feel because I might be vulnerable like that - but that's odd. I don't strike myself as a hard, guarded person. Maybe I just think that, if I have the choice, I choose to feel happy rather than depressed or serious.

But I'm not a shallow person. I'm really not! And I do think there's a time to be serious, just like there is a time for everything else. I guess I just think that, if life can't always be that way, at least in the fictional world, people should live happily ever after, with a bunch of sarcastic, cynical, and goofy jokes on the side (so it's not too sappy).