April 30, 2004

Anal with an 'a'

Via Merriam-Webster:

compliment:
Function: transitive verb
1 : to pay a compliment to
2 : to present with a token of esteem

complement:
Function: verb
1 : to be complementary to

complementary:
Function: adjective
1 : relating to or constituting one of a pair of contrasting colors that produce a neutral color when combined in suitable proportions
2 : serving to fill out or complete
3 : mutually supplying each other's lack
4 : being complements of each other
5 : characterized by the capacity for precise pairing of purine and pyrimidine bases between strands of DNA and sometimes RNA such that the structure of one strand determines the other

abscond:
Function: intransitive verb
Etymology: Latin abscondere to hide away, from abs- + condere to store up, conceal -- more at CONDIMENT
: to depart secretly and hide oneself

admonish:
Function: transitive verb
Etymology: Middle English admonesten, from Middle French admonester, from (assumed) Vulgar Latin admonestare, alteration of Latin admonEre to warn, from ad- + monEre to warn -- more at MIND
1 a : to indicate duties or obligations to b : to express warning or disapproval to especially in a gentle, earnest, or solicitous manner
2 : to give friendly earnest advice or encouragement to


So, Chase, it looks like we were both right about admonish. But I was more right.

Posted by liz at 04:04 PM | Comments (1)

April 21, 2004

I give in

I've only been resisting this because my selection of books here at my desk is non-existent, but here goes:

“Now you know why people so often use the expression ‘that was a hard nut to crack,’ and why nutcrackers are so ugly.”

Uncle Drosselmeier in The Nutcracker (compliments of Chicago Title Insurance Company)

Directions:
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 23.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.

Via Jenica.

Posted by liz at 10:50 AM | Comments (2)

April 07, 2004

NPR, a blessing and a curse

I woke up this morning, as every morning for the last few weeks, to more bad news from Iraq. It's much more effective than an alarm clock and a hundred times more depressing. Maybe it's because it's a slow week here in the office, or maybe it's because I'm feeling some real social responsibility, but I've been addicted to the Iraqi bloggers, in particular Raed for the politics, and Riverbend for the mood. Riverbend's english is better than Raed's, but that's really just nit-picking at this point, because I don't speak a word of Arabic. (Actually, I could since Raed's mother Faiza is teaching it on yet another blog.)
It's getting overwhelming, especially from a first-hand perspective. It's one thing for me, comfortable in Seattle, not to be able to find a legitimate source of information from the government or the news media. It's quite another thing to be there, waking up to explosions, and have the same problem. The reports vary to such a large degree and there's so much hearsay and rumor that I imagine I would spend all my time hiding under a table if I lived in Baghdad right now.
But I don't live in Baghdad. Instead, I live in a comfortable studio apartment and I try to buy organic food whenever possible, because my subscription to Ad Busters has convinced me it's the right thing to do for my health and my community. I let the water run until it's good and hot before I start the dishes. I go out for pool and cocktails several nights a week, and I walk home by myself after dark. I sleep 'til whenever on weekends and then go out for a big brunch and vegitate for the rest of the time. The hardest thing I have to decide on any given day is where to eat or drink, or what I'm in the mood for. I get all worked up in my "problems." I feel tragic and lonely and fear that my situation won't improve as much or as quickly as I would like. I harbor nasty emotions toward people I don't like and sometimes run my mouth off about them. I want a shaggier carpet and deeper cabinets, and maybe some shelves. I read expensive magazines and use the ATM at the coffeehouse with the two dollar service charge because it's three blocks closer than the bank (and downhill!). I haven't yet gone to get a library card. I complain about a light drizzle. I often throw away groceries because I don't use them before the expiration date.

And I pledged only 25 dollars to NPR, but ran up a 35 dollar bar tab on a Tuesday night.

The problem is I just don't know what I can do. I don't know how to help. So I keep doing the things I've always done, and just feel guilty about it all the time.

Sorry about all of this. Look for less depressing posts in the future.

Posted by liz at 01:33 PM | Comments (2)