Aside from imparting the shocking news that the Oxford English Dictionary is going online only, this article (thanks again, MsKrit) is delightfully written. No nits to pick here.

Labels: books, news, newspapers, wordplay, words, writing

You learn something new every day (if you’re lucky). I had no idea there was a Texas-shaped swimming pool in Plano. How delicious is that? If I lived closer, I’d join. Keep the pool alive, Planites. Join today.

On my one trip to Branson, MO many years ago, I stayed at the Music Country Motor Inn because it had a guitar-shaped swimming pool. Too bad the postcard doesn’t do the pool justice.


I don’t remember the room. I do remember seeing Mel Tillis and Shoji Tabuchi. Just what is the Shoji Tabuchi Show that everyone loving American music is raving about? his website asks. A Japanese fiddler. Yes indeedy.

***

According to this article, when the economy struggles, lipstick sales soar. Interesting. I wonder if then, these women promptly lose said lipsticks, as I do. Yes, the problem continues. Where do they go?

What do you give up when money gets tight? For one thing, Jack isn’t getting shmancy organic biscuits these days. When we have money, I order them online from a small company because with these biscuits, his breath stays sweet. These days, he’s eating semi-fancy Petco biscuits and his breath can knock you over from across the room. We also stop shopping at Whole Foods. Tom Thumb is good enough. We’re cutting back on our meat consumption a bit, too. Which is good for us in many various ways.

I have definitely started watching my driving. The other day I met friends for lunch in Plano, which is a haul for me. Driving home, I realized that gas added about another $12 to the cheap lunch. I watched that gauge as obsessively as I watch taxi meters in New York. (Although that’s less about the price of the ride than the performance pressure of calculating the tip. I calculate and recalculate the tip every time the meter flips.)

What else? I go the library more. I don’t buy many new books but when money is tight, I buy even fewer. I’m somewhat less likely to order wine when I eat out. (Somewhat. Depends on the day of the week.)

The one thing I still can’t bring myself to give up, though, is having someone clean my house every two weeks. It’s a luxury I can no longer live without. Life is short, my house gets really dirty.

***

Ms. Krit sent that lipstick article, and she sent me this article, about how to buy a dictionary.

Her favorite part and mine:

Look for dirty words.

All parts of English are important, even those trouble-making words that are coarse, derogatory, or sexual. A good lexicographer will include the most common words of all kinds, including ones that can be troublesome.

If a dictionary’s editors have chosen to leave out words they consider offensive, we must also wonder what other words they have left out. What are their criteria for judging words to be offensive? Are they leaving out words that concern any religion but their own? Are they leaving out words that deal with political viewpoints they don’t support? Are they leaving out words simply because they think they’re ugly? Are they including words simply because they like them? Are they deleting insulting words for their own ethnic group and leaving in insulting words for other groups?

See? Profanity does have a noble purpose? Fuckin’ A!

***

My favorite New Yorker cartoon of the week, right here.

***

Some Mother’s Day snark for the unsentimental.

Is this the scariest ad EVER? It’s the attack of the mom clones. Not to mention the scary clothes. The outfit on Mom #1 is clearly designed for the mom you hate. Stacey and Clinton, please help.

Here, from my favorite ecard site, is a collection of Mother’s Day cards you would never dare send, much as you might want to.

I’ve seen articles that say people are going to spend more on their mothers this year, and articles that say they are going to spend less. Predictably, mothers say, “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll sit in the dark.”

This just in: Mother's Day press release with infuriating unnecessary apostrophes: Wanted to pass along this last minute gift idea for those active mom's or for those mom's that always have sore, tired feet. Please let me know if you would like more information or need any images or product samples.

To add to the idiocy, the message text gives no clue as to what the product is. I would have to open an attachment for any more information. Not gonna do it, Matt. If for no other reason than because you're an idiot. What would your mother think?

Don’t know what to get mom? Perhaps this:



***

And finally, searches of the week.

My portrait of a xoloescuintle was very popular on Thursday. Maybe someone was passing it around? It was accessed a number of times. Also, from the same page, the photo of the pyramids and my arty farty flower shot.

Lots and lots and lots of people are looking for information about cross-dressers in saris. I feel bad that I’ve let them down, since I have no photos. Is this a fetish of some kind? Most interesting of these searches:

photos of male cross dresser in sari with his wife
my husband saree photos crossdresser

I was disturbed by the search

i hate ps 166

How could anyone hate PS 166, my beloved alma mater? Now, if they knew Ethel O. Ebin, the principal when I was there, I could understand hating her, nasty old bat. I wish I had a photo of her. She had a grubby beehive hairdo that looked like it housed rodents.

Other searches this week:

Thank God I books for sale Castagnini
inside the brain of a narcissist
Narcissist Bully
negative reviews of elizabeth gilbert's eat, pray, love
gmail emails not reaching their destination
derivation of lithium name
cashmere bouquet plant
customer support gmail
outlook autofill subject line
mayeaux pronunciation
odd looking dogs
give me obama email adress and guest 2008@yahoo.com
jack kent cooke Conundrum
gmail to yahoo not getting sent
sophia needlepoint
jean fain
46/64 baby boomers magazine dallas morning news
CAROLINE HELDMAN self objectification
indian women peeing
2008 guess book of jane in the usa @yahoo.com @gmail.com
"black and blue" dallas
intriguing
fun shit in dallas texas
"Advanced Backup Plug-In"
Menade du: "Advanced Backup PlugIn"
picture of someone eating a twinkie
knyledge Sutton
2008 email contact of directors in bangkok @gmail.com
smacking upside the head emoticon
rooting cashmere bouquet
+27+2008+2009 @yahoo.com OR @yahoo.com OR mail.com "director"
ooed and ahed
pronounce loehmann's
"an open mind" book markova
55L alpine pack = too big??
beautiful aunties with saris


That is all. Happy Friday.

Labels: blogging, books, branson, cosmetics, economy, flotsam, google, mother's day, news, photography, public relations, shopping, texas, words

I was paying by check for something at Loehmann’s back in the 1980s. The sales clerk looked at my check and said, with undisguised horror, “Who would name their daughter Sophia Lucy Dembling?”

I muttered something about my parents and finished the transaction as quickly as I could.

Idiot.

My name, Sophia (the more common pronunciation) is the top girls’ name for 2007. I have mixed feelings about this, since it’s been fun having an unusual name.

When I was a little girl, the only other Sophies I knew were friends of my grandmother. Now the nation is crawling with Sophies. Not so many Sew-fi-ahs, though, which is the more Anglo, as opposed to Italian, pronunciation. And yes, I know of two other Sophias in the world who pronounce it as I do.

For the record for the eight millionth time, I did not take on the pronunciation as an affectation. It is my name, as my parents drilled into me through my childhood.

I think of all this after reading this Steve Blow column, spun off a book called Bad Baby Names about kooky names people have. (I do not think my name is the least big kooky, by the way. I like my name. I even like Lucy, which I hated as a child.) I mean kooky like Emma Roid. Her parents should be fined.

Farther down on the same page, I read this very sad story about the funeral of a toddler who was in the line of fire in a drive-by shooting.

It’s a terrible story and all too common, but laying that aside for the moment, note that the child’s name was Knyledge Sutton. Pronounced knowledge. (His mother is Shaterica, his sister is Jurnee.)

Had his life not been horrifically cut short, Knyledge, like me, would have gone through his whole life explaining to people how to pronounce his name and that he didn’t make it up, it’s not an affectation, it’s really the name his mother gave him. (Even so, I can’t figure out how Knyledge turns into knowledge.)

Name pronunciations are tricky things and those of us with tricky names often have to decide at what point, if ever, we will correct people’s pronunciations. I have a friend named Mimi who, after we had known each other a few years, finally pointed out to me that her name is pronounced Mih-mee, not mee-mee. And a friend named Tara who let me know that it’s Tah-rah, not Ta-ra. Therese is Tah-rez, not Teh-reese.

The trick to doing this is to wait for an easy in, and say cheerfully, "Actually, it's pronounced ------." How long one takes to do this depends on how often the person says your name out loud. Sometimes I don't tell people until they hear it on my voice mail or or hear someone else say it.

My friend Lara has claimed I am incapable of pronouncing her name properly but I still can’t hear the nuance she tries to explain to me. Then again, I am frequently mocked for the way I pronounce the name Karen and I can’t figure out what I’m doing there, either.

Sometimes, when I call tech support or whatever, I take the easy way out and pronounce my name the more usual way, just to make it easy on everyone. But it’s funny how, even though the spelling is the same, the name doesn’t feel like mine as it comes out of my mouth.

My friends mostly call me Sophie, which is easy on everyone, although some use Sophia, which I enjoy. I love the name. Still, I'm a little self-conscious every time someone uses it in public because someone else invariably asks about the pronunciation. And every time I’m asked, I feel compelled to explain that it is not an affectation. And I hear that saleswoman in the back of my mind saying, “Who would name their daughter that?”

Labels: baby names, memoir, words