I've been talking about it for a while, but I've finally set up my WordPress blog.
I've exported all of these entries to the new blog, and will update there from now on. Forgive the dust; I'm still learning how to use WordPress, so will probably be tweaking the layout for a while. Hope to see you there!
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Monday, February 1, 2016
Monday, January 25, 2016
Today's vocabulary lesson: Ornery
My daughter is ornery. In fact, one of her nicknames is Ornery Anya -- and, as it turns out, a large part of the reason for that nickname is where I come from.
Let me back up a minute.
It bugs me when words vary wildly in spelling and pronunciation. Makes me worry I am spelling or saying the word incorrectly. I get that some letters are silent, and that shifts in language do things like make us write colonel yet say kernel. Fine. But how in the heck do we get ahnree from ornery? I asked myself.
To Google! Where I discovered that the dictionary and I have vastly different definitions and pronunciations for this word. I have always used it, and have always heard it used, to mean an impish, mischievous person. A prankster. Someone who does things like, say, light a string of firecrackers in the bathroom while his brother is in the shower. Or someone who, in retaliation, lights a string of firecrackers under the open window his brother is sitting in front of -- days later, when the original firecracker incident has been forgotten.
My uncles. Both gone now, RIP. And both ornery. In my sense, not Merriam-Webster's.
The* dictionary says an ornery person is crabby. I am not unfamiliar with this definition; I've seen it used in books, and have even heard people use it to describe old people and mean dogs. In that sense, I've always heard it pronounced orn-er-ree.
The dictionary also pronounces it orn-er-ree. Like it's spelled. So my faith in spelling has been restored.
I am not at all surprised that I pronounce it differently; where I come from, you warsh things and write with an ink pin. I then moved to a place where vowels are afraid to travel alone; here, you write with an eenk pee-in. I've long since accepted that the way I say things and the way I am used to hearing them does not necessarily mesh with the rest of the country. But how did I end up with two definitions and two pronunciations?
Then I came across an entry in a blog I used to follow before I had kids and lost any semblance of free time: Language Log. TL;DR version: While the dictionary has one definition and pronunciation, there is a second definition and pronunciation that is also widespread, that coincides with the usage I'm familiar with. This usage is most prevalent in the Midwest.
I'm from the Midwest, so...there you go.
Wiktionary also acknowledges a second use, though they attribute it to the South rather than the Midwest. (I'm finding more and more that there are many linguistic overlaps between the South and the Midwest.) Which explains why my non-Midwestern friends use this same definition and pronunciation.
I did notice that Urban Dictionary acknowledges the secondary definition/pronunciation, but they spell it awnry or anry. You'd think I would prefer that spelling to ornery, as it is more closely aligned with the pronunciation I use and also acknowledges the distinction in definition by treating it like an entirely separate word. But I guess I've grown accustomed to the original spelling, because awnry just looks wrong to me. Maybe because it's one letter from awry, which has a totally different pronunciation. I don't like anry any better, though, as it's one letter short of angry. No, though in my mouth the word starts with an a sound, I still feel like the original spelling is better in writing.
The misspellings would look better with Anya, though. Spoken aloud, ahnree Anya rolls off the tongue, but seeing it in print -- ornery Anya -- is jarring. Awnry Anya at least looks like the two words sound alike.
A rose by any other name, I guess, would still be a little stinker.
I wish my uncles had lived to meet her. They'd have gotten a kick out of her.
*I know there is not one authoritative dictionary, so I give you definitions from eight -- take your pick.
Let me back up a minute.
It bugs me when words vary wildly in spelling and pronunciation. Makes me worry I am spelling or saying the word incorrectly. I get that some letters are silent, and that shifts in language do things like make us write colonel yet say kernel. Fine. But how in the heck do we get ahnree from ornery? I asked myself.
To Google! Where I discovered that the dictionary and I have vastly different definitions and pronunciations for this word. I have always used it, and have always heard it used, to mean an impish, mischievous person. A prankster. Someone who does things like, say, light a string of firecrackers in the bathroom while his brother is in the shower. Or someone who, in retaliation, lights a string of firecrackers under the open window his brother is sitting in front of -- days later, when the original firecracker incident has been forgotten.
My uncles. Both gone now, RIP. And both ornery. In my sense, not Merriam-Webster's.
The* dictionary says an ornery person is crabby. I am not unfamiliar with this definition; I've seen it used in books, and have even heard people use it to describe old people and mean dogs. In that sense, I've always heard it pronounced orn-er-ree.
The dictionary also pronounces it orn-er-ree. Like it's spelled. So my faith in spelling has been restored.
I am not at all surprised that I pronounce it differently; where I come from, you warsh things and write with an ink pin. I then moved to a place where vowels are afraid to travel alone; here, you write with an eenk pee-in. I've long since accepted that the way I say things and the way I am used to hearing them does not necessarily mesh with the rest of the country. But how did I end up with two definitions and two pronunciations?
Then I came across an entry in a blog I used to follow before I had kids and lost any semblance of free time: Language Log. TL;DR version: While the dictionary has one definition and pronunciation, there is a second definition and pronunciation that is also widespread, that coincides with the usage I'm familiar with. This usage is most prevalent in the Midwest.
I'm from the Midwest, so...there you go.
Wiktionary also acknowledges a second use, though they attribute it to the South rather than the Midwest. (I'm finding more and more that there are many linguistic overlaps between the South and the Midwest.) Which explains why my non-Midwestern friends use this same definition and pronunciation.
I did notice that Urban Dictionary acknowledges the secondary definition/pronunciation, but they spell it awnry or anry. You'd think I would prefer that spelling to ornery, as it is more closely aligned with the pronunciation I use and also acknowledges the distinction in definition by treating it like an entirely separate word. But I guess I've grown accustomed to the original spelling, because awnry just looks wrong to me. Maybe because it's one letter from awry, which has a totally different pronunciation. I don't like anry any better, though, as it's one letter short of angry. No, though in my mouth the word starts with an a sound, I still feel like the original spelling is better in writing.
The misspellings would look better with Anya, though. Spoken aloud, ahnree Anya rolls off the tongue, but seeing it in print -- ornery Anya -- is jarring. Awnry Anya at least looks like the two words sound alike.
A rose by any other name, I guess, would still be a little stinker.
I wish my uncles had lived to meet her. They'd have gotten a kick out of her.
*I know there is not one authoritative dictionary, so I give you definitions from eight -- take your pick.
Monday, January 11, 2016
The sex in our words
I've been thinking a lot about the casual sexism in my life, as I've mentioned. One pet peeve that has arisen: When a group of women is communicating, and they feel the need to use the word ladies constantly.
Okay, ladies, what do you think about...
Do you ladies agree?"
Ladies, let's do this.
I'm not even talking about the stereotypical Okay, ladies, where shall we have lunch? No, it's worse than that.
Okay, ladies, how are we going to address this global warming issue?
What do you ladies think about those whack jobs up in Oregon? Shall we bomb them, or do they have a point?
Let's go feed some starving children, ladies!
Maybe it's just because I work with only women now, both in my day job and in my freelancing gigs, but I grit my teeth every time I see the word ladies. First of all, I don't think of myself as a lady.* But that's not the only reason. If we were men, would we feel the need to mention our gender all the time?
Okay, gentlemen, where shall we have lunch?
What do you gentlemen think about...
Do you gentlemen agree?
Not bloody likely. Maybe in the distant past, but guys these days don't tend to talk like that. Though substituting dudes for gentlemen does bring to mind a voice somewhere between Keanu Reeves and Ashton Kutcher, so perhaps there is a precedent for gender-flogging amongst a certain subset of males.
I have not forgotten that I am female. Or that you are female. That we are all, in fact, female. I do not need a reminder.
And yes, I get that it's kind of special that we are all female. We've come a long way, baby, but we're not there yet. We won't be there until we can stop having stupid conversations about parental leave and periods and whether or not it might inappropriately arouse someone if I feed my kid in front of them. So yeah...best get comfy, because this is going to be a long and bumpy ride.
But I don't think we help matters when we fly the ladies flag in situations in which our gender does not, in fact, matter. For example, if I am editing a piece on breastfeeding, and I am a woman who has breastfed, my gender is relevant.** I bring a special knowledge to the piece, through my gender and experience. If, however, I am editing a journal article on the comparison of Drug A and Drug B, my gender does not matter a bit, and I see no need to call attention to it. (Actually, I see no need to call attention to it in the first piece, either, unless my expertise is called into question.) Nor does it matter when we are deciding what color font to use in a project, in which order we should all review proofs, or -- indeed! -- where we should consume the mid-day meal.
I am a woman, yes. But first and foremost, I am a person. If you would not say men, gentlemen, dudes, or some variation thereof if the gender composition of the group were flipped, and if you would not feel compelled to throw in people if the group comprised both genders, do not say ladies.
I read somewhere recently that people feel this same way about the use of you guys and guys. Which I found interesting, given that I wrote a paper in grad school on the use of you guys versus y'all. Back then, usage seemed fairly split, and appeared to depend largely on where a person was born. (Above the Mason-Dixon line, you guys; below it, y'all.) Usage seems to have shifted in recent years, with more universal use of y'all (though I have not done any sort of formal survey to test that theory); the article I read postulated that this shift is because people are put off by the inherent sexism of you guys. Which shocked me -- probably because I was born on the other side of the Mason-Dixon line. I have always preferred you guys. Partly because y'all sounds very Duke Boys to my ear;*** partly because another pet peeve of mine is when people misplace the apostrophe.**** But I have been trying to compromise by replacing you guys with you all -- or writing around the construction entirely.
As I type this, I can feel a certain subset of people bristling at having to think so hard about mere words. I sympathize. I used to feel the same way. But words matter. Not because I work with them for a living (of course I think they matter!), but because what we say reflects what we believe. Sometimes it's a subtle reflection, but it's always there. Change your words, change your mind.
*To me, lady evokes connotations of floral dresses and tea and repressed sexual morals. I'm not the most open person sexually, and I certainly try not to be crass, but I have been living in sin with my baby daddy and our two illegitimate kids for several years now, which appears to have been enough to get me cut out of Grandma's will. Prim and proper, I ain't.
**I am not really up to speed on all of the cis/trans stuff, so I'm merely addressing what I know, which is the dichotomy of physically male and female. Forgive my ignorance of the rest. I'm not judging or dismissing...I just don't know enough to speak to it.
***Does that date me? Okay, Britney Spears. Though that probably dates me, too.
****The contraction is of the words you all, not ya all -- the apostrophe replaces the letters ou a and thus comes after the y. Please, take pity on the punctuation nerd. ::twitch::
Okay, ladies, what do you think about...
Do you ladies agree?"
Ladies, let's do this.
I'm not even talking about the stereotypical Okay, ladies, where shall we have lunch? No, it's worse than that.
Okay, ladies, how are we going to address this global warming issue?
What do you ladies think about those whack jobs up in Oregon? Shall we bomb them, or do they have a point?
Let's go feed some starving children, ladies!
Maybe it's just because I work with only women now, both in my day job and in my freelancing gigs, but I grit my teeth every time I see the word ladies. First of all, I don't think of myself as a lady.* But that's not the only reason. If we were men, would we feel the need to mention our gender all the time?
Okay, gentlemen, where shall we have lunch?
What do you gentlemen think about...
Do you gentlemen agree?
Not bloody likely. Maybe in the distant past, but guys these days don't tend to talk like that. Though substituting dudes for gentlemen does bring to mind a voice somewhere between Keanu Reeves and Ashton Kutcher, so perhaps there is a precedent for gender-flogging amongst a certain subset of males.
I have not forgotten that I am female. Or that you are female. That we are all, in fact, female. I do not need a reminder.
And yes, I get that it's kind of special that we are all female. We've come a long way, baby, but we're not there yet. We won't be there until we can stop having stupid conversations about parental leave and periods and whether or not it might inappropriately arouse someone if I feed my kid in front of them. So yeah...best get comfy, because this is going to be a long and bumpy ride.
But I don't think we help matters when we fly the ladies flag in situations in which our gender does not, in fact, matter. For example, if I am editing a piece on breastfeeding, and I am a woman who has breastfed, my gender is relevant.** I bring a special knowledge to the piece, through my gender and experience. If, however, I am editing a journal article on the comparison of Drug A and Drug B, my gender does not matter a bit, and I see no need to call attention to it. (Actually, I see no need to call attention to it in the first piece, either, unless my expertise is called into question.) Nor does it matter when we are deciding what color font to use in a project, in which order we should all review proofs, or -- indeed! -- where we should consume the mid-day meal.
I am a woman, yes. But first and foremost, I am a person. If you would not say men, gentlemen, dudes, or some variation thereof if the gender composition of the group were flipped, and if you would not feel compelled to throw in people if the group comprised both genders, do not say ladies.
I read somewhere recently that people feel this same way about the use of you guys and guys. Which I found interesting, given that I wrote a paper in grad school on the use of you guys versus y'all. Back then, usage seemed fairly split, and appeared to depend largely on where a person was born. (Above the Mason-Dixon line, you guys; below it, y'all.) Usage seems to have shifted in recent years, with more universal use of y'all (though I have not done any sort of formal survey to test that theory); the article I read postulated that this shift is because people are put off by the inherent sexism of you guys. Which shocked me -- probably because I was born on the other side of the Mason-Dixon line. I have always preferred you guys. Partly because y'all sounds very Duke Boys to my ear;*** partly because another pet peeve of mine is when people misplace the apostrophe.**** But I have been trying to compromise by replacing you guys with you all -- or writing around the construction entirely.
As I type this, I can feel a certain subset of people bristling at having to think so hard about mere words. I sympathize. I used to feel the same way. But words matter. Not because I work with them for a living (of course I think they matter!), but because what we say reflects what we believe. Sometimes it's a subtle reflection, but it's always there. Change your words, change your mind.
*To me, lady evokes connotations of floral dresses and tea and repressed sexual morals. I'm not the most open person sexually, and I certainly try not to be crass, but I have been living in sin with my baby daddy and our two illegitimate kids for several years now, which appears to have been enough to get me cut out of Grandma's will. Prim and proper, I ain't.
**I am not really up to speed on all of the cis/trans stuff, so I'm merely addressing what I know, which is the dichotomy of physically male and female. Forgive my ignorance of the rest. I'm not judging or dismissing...I just don't know enough to speak to it.
***Does that date me? Okay, Britney Spears. Though that probably dates me, too.
****The contraction is of the words you all, not ya all -- the apostrophe replaces the letters ou a and thus comes after the y. Please, take pity on the punctuation nerd. ::twitch::
Friday, November 6, 2015
November 2015: Never say die! (And be grateful, bitch.)
The above is the title of the November 2015 PopClogs Bootcamp. If you're not on PopClogs, the Bootcamps are basically a set of monthly goals we set for ourselves. Largely fitness related, but not entirely. Each month has a theme. I'm particularly fond of this one, because it captures perfectly my current mindset.
I had big plans for October. Through no fault of my own, I did not accomplish everything I set out to do (or even most of it), but I am not giving up. I have refined my list and added to it (probably too much, to be honest), and am approaching November with a Goonies "give-'em-hell" grin.
Despite my big list, which I will refrain from sharing so you can't laugh at me a few weeks from now, my main focus is to get my mornings in order. I've found that when my mornings go well, my whole day goes well. So it is my goal to achieve the following each morning:
I have a weekend cleaning routine going, finally. The house does not get 100% clean every week, but I get the big chunks. The laundry gets done -- sometimes it even gets put away! Each Saturday morning I get up, practice yoga, and clean the house before we do anything else. Sundays are free days, or I repeat the Saturday process if there is still cleaning left to do. I've been doing this for a few months now, and it's finally become routine; even Anya is into the "clean on Saturday morning" groove. So now I just need to get my weekdays in order, in order to accomplish the things I want to before the work day starts.
This is my focus for November. Everything else is just gravy.
Speaking of gravy, some of my subgoals this month are to work on teaching Anya about gratitude and taking over some of the Turkey Day preparations. I'll talk more about both later. Should be interesting.
I had big plans for October. Through no fault of my own, I did not accomplish everything I set out to do (or even most of it), but I am not giving up. I have refined my list and added to it (probably too much, to be honest), and am approaching November with a Goonies "give-'em-hell" grin.
Despite my big list, which I will refrain from sharing so you can't laugh at me a few weeks from now, my main focus is to get my mornings in order. I've found that when my mornings go well, my whole day goes well. So it is my goal to achieve the following each morning:
- Get up at 5:30.
- Practice yoga.
- Meditate. (Even 2 minutes would be nice.)
- Write a blog entry.
- Write a paragraph on my book.
I have a weekend cleaning routine going, finally. The house does not get 100% clean every week, but I get the big chunks. The laundry gets done -- sometimes it even gets put away! Each Saturday morning I get up, practice yoga, and clean the house before we do anything else. Sundays are free days, or I repeat the Saturday process if there is still cleaning left to do. I've been doing this for a few months now, and it's finally become routine; even Anya is into the "clean on Saturday morning" groove. So now I just need to get my weekdays in order, in order to accomplish the things I want to before the work day starts.
This is my focus for November. Everything else is just gravy.
Speaking of gravy, some of my subgoals this month are to work on teaching Anya about gratitude and taking over some of the Turkey Day preparations. I'll talk more about both later. Should be interesting.
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
NaNoWriYo
I'm writing a new novel. (Yes, I realize I have yet to finish the first two.) It's a slow novel. Right now I only have two paragraphs. And I have no idea what it's going to be about, who the characters are, if there will be a plot...none of that is decided, or even much thought about. But I have decided to write a paragraph a day until I figure it out. And then keep going until it's finished. Whenever that is.
I sense that it's going to be a long story, though, so I call it a novel.
Actually, right now I'm calling it "buncha words," because I am a master of pithy titles.
There is no way, given my current schedule, that I can participate in NaNoWriMo. In retrospect, I really wish I'd done it before I had kids; I had crazy free time then. But I didn't, and now I can't. Perhaps when the littles are more self-sufficient, I will attempt it. But this is not the year to try to write a novel in a month.
A novel in a year, however, is doable. That's like 140 words per day. Granted, my paragraphs are a bit short starting out, but I tend to ramble more the longer I write. I'll catch up.
So I have declared NaNoWriYo. (Should be NaNoWriYe, but Yo flows better.) I don't have a ton of time to write (or pee, eat, breathe), but surely I can squeeze in 140 words a day. And who knows? I might even finish a novel this way.
I sense that it's going to be a long story, though, so I call it a novel.
Actually, right now I'm calling it "buncha words," because I am a master of pithy titles.
There is no way, given my current schedule, that I can participate in NaNoWriMo. In retrospect, I really wish I'd done it before I had kids; I had crazy free time then. But I didn't, and now I can't. Perhaps when the littles are more self-sufficient, I will attempt it. But this is not the year to try to write a novel in a month.
A novel in a year, however, is doable. That's like 140 words per day. Granted, my paragraphs are a bit short starting out, but I tend to ramble more the longer I write. I'll catch up.
So I have declared NaNoWriYo. (Should be NaNoWriYe, but Yo flows better.) I don't have a ton of time to write (or pee, eat, breathe), but surely I can squeeze in 140 words a day. And who knows? I might even finish a novel this way.
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