interj. - Chiefly Canadian.
1. Used in asking a question or in seeking repetition or confirmation of a statement.
2. Used to ascertain or reinforce a listener's interest or agreement.
Eh?
Today at lunch, I got into a conversation with my co-worker, one Elaine Barron by name, and Filipino by decent.
Our conversation was sparked by a newspaper article left open on the table. The gist of the article was that some British Scientist have developed an embryo with genetic information from one male and two females. Their goal was to “…one day help would-be mothers from handing down an often tragic and sometimes fatal condition called mitochondrial disease…”
Elaine and I started talking about and began to speculate on the moral complications of such procedures. The issue of a possible master race, and ‘Designer Babies’ was of course a concern, but more over our lunch hour, our conversation turned to Racism, and how absolutely ridiculous it is!
I related this story:
My friend (who will remain anonymous) and I were getting pizza, and when the doorbell rang, she went to go pay. After she closed the door, our conversation went like this:
My Friend (X): “Ugh, it was that guy who works at 7-11 too. God how many jobs does he need?’
Me (A): “Huh, which guy?
X: “The brown guy, god, he freaks me out so much!”
A: “What do you mean he freaks you out? Why?”
X: “He’s so tall! I totally didn’t tip him!”
A: “What? Why didn’t you tip him?”
X: “casue he freaks me out”
A: “You can’t not tip a guy just because he freaks you out! Just because he’s tall!!”
X: “But like, you can’t see his eyes! It’s creepy!”
A: “You can see his eyes! He wears a turban and has a beard, he’s not wearing ‘poker player’ sunglasses AT ALL TIMES!”
X: “But he’s really dark!”
A: “Was He dark, like actually dark, or did you just forget to turn the porch light on?!”
X: “Well, I don’t like him! I mean how many jobs does he need?”
A: “Are you fucking kidding me? He probably has one more degree than you, because you have none! He has at least two more jobs then you, because you don’t even have a job!”
My friend did go to Panago the next day and give the guy a tip. The unfortunate part is that her thought process wasn’t uncommon. It’s all too often that so-called “Canadians” complain about immigrants, and throw out such blatant mistruths as,
“They are stealing all our jobs. They are only here because of our medical system benefits. They just want to come here so they can sponsor all their relatives. Pretty soon our city will be over-run with them.”
People who are saying these things obviously have no idea how our immigration system works, nor do they even have any actual fact to back up their disgustingly generalized claims.
I often want to remind these so-called “Canadians” that all “Canadians” are immigrants. Everyone in Canada can relay their heritage or family back to another country, whether they be Ukrainian or English, French or Polish, Chinese or Korean, we are all immigrants. It doesn’t matter if your family came four Generations ago, or you were born abroad, racism makes no sense for Canadians.
As our lunch time conversation got more heated, we started thinking about racist slurs and speculating on how they even get started.
We figured the derogatory terms started because one person was different from another, but really everyone is different from everyone else.
You are unique, just like a snowflake, just like everyone else.
Elaine and I eventually started this conversation, which has us falling into a fit of giggles, and even though it may sounds strange, it’s no different from any other kind of racism.
“Oh my God, white people are just SO white! I mean I went outside with Anna the other day and her skin was like, glowing! I was blinded! And seriously what is up with their skin changing colour like that in the sun! I mean she turned Red! It’s SO weird! I mean make up you mind, are you white or red?!
“What is up with their hair? I mean it’s like red and blonde and brown and even black. Like did their moms sleep with like 10 guys, and it all got mixed up? And sometime it’s curly and sometimes it’s strait? God their moms must be super slutty!! White girls are such whores.
“I don’t want them near me, I might get a disease, because they are so slutty, she can’t use the same water fountain as me, I might get one of her slutty diseases! White girls are probably really easy too! But I mean I wouldn’t want like my brother or friends with one of them! They would not be faithful, no way!
“And their eyes are all different colours too, and why the hell are they’re eyes so wide? I mean are they like trying to watch EVERYTHING! I feel like Anna is always spying on me! Is she trying to watch me with her wide eyes?!”
Well I’ll leave you all with that. Next time you decide to not tip a pizza guy, or you think they are stealing all the jobs, imagine how you’d feel if the tables would turned. Imagine if you were the immigrant, unfamiliar with the language, people, food, location, social norms, and traditions.
I actually first heard it in a cute little movie called “The Holiday”. It was a simple holiday film, suitable for watching with grandmas and little ones alike on Christmas Day (you know, after the presents have been opened but before you burn your house down on Christmas Day because you left the oven on cooking a 20 pound turkey while you went out to watch a movie… Idiot)
As my finger swept over the keyboard, updating my FaceBook Status today, I of course added my own little interpretation to the line, ie. “not a drunk meet”.
While it’s not a new thought of mine, but I has occurred to me in the past that is is awful hard to meet good guys when they’re drunk, your drunk, inhibitions are low, expectations are high, and the two of you are anything and everything in between.
Who wants to be sitting down with they're grandchildren and have the conversation go like this,
“Grandma, how did you and Grandpa meet?”
“Oh well, that is a great story. You see, my darling, Grandpa and I were both hammered, I mean just falling over, can’t remember your name drunk!! Grandma stumbled out of this dingy little club on the wrong side of town and there was my night in shiny armour, necking a chick. Well once she passed out, he off-loaded her on a friend, who poured that sucker into a cab, and grandpa turned to me. Id like to think I knew right then that he was the love of my life, but lets be honest, I’m not even sure of that to this day, and on that particular night I didn’t even know where my shoes were!
“If you can learn anything from Grandma, let it be that high-heels hurt like a B*tch, but make your legs look f*cking awesome! So, my darling, wear them, and then remember to drink enough so that you can’t feel you legs anymore, let a lone your aching feet.
“Well anyways, your Grandpa turned to me, and with his cute little smile asked me my name. Well at least I think that’s what he wanted to ask, but he tripped over the curb and face-planted into the pavement. It was the cutest, hottest, most manly fall I’ve ever seen. Well I think I saw it, I did blink right at that moment and may have had my eyes shut for up to a minute, or at least until the spins kicked in. I may have imagined the fall, but I know when I opened my eyes he was on the ground and his friend, who you now call Uncle Luke, was pointing and laughing.
“I ran to him and his nose and face were bleeding badly. He got blood all over my skirt, and I could never wear it again. He did drunkenly promise to get me a new skirt, but 2 kids and 3 grandkids later he has yet to deliver.
“He staggered up and asked me if I could help him to the hospital. I pointed him in the direction of the hospital and planned to move on, but something in his face just pulled on my heart strong and even though I could barely stand, and I was quite certain I was making one of the worst decisions of my life, I asked him if he wanted to come back to my place. He smiled, I think, and that’s when I noticed he had knocked a tooth out. It was beautiful.
“We made it back to my place, a few blocks away, and while he cleaned up his face, tried to stop the bleeding and tried to ascertain if he really did need to go to hospital, I changed out of my blood covered cloths and threw them out.
“Well I won’t get into all the details, my darling, but the joyous mix of alcohol, Grandmas surprising willingness, and the fact that Grandpas face had stopped bleeding and wasn’t swelling too badly lead to us getting married.
“Well actually my baby it lead to your daddy being born, it just wasn’t until after that night that I found out your Grandpa is quite the Conservative, and that turned around to bite me in the ass!”
At this point your Grandchild will cry and run to their (almost a bastard) parent, who will turn to you, give you the stink eye, and chalk it all up to crazy grandma.
Now you're a crazy geriatric, with a drinking problem, a husband you're not even sure if you’re fond of, and grand-children who hate you. It’s all because of your drunk meet.
So next time you stumble up to the bar, and order yet another Vodka-Water, and you turn your head to see what you think is a cute young guy looking your way, walk away. Don’t worry about the next drink, don’t look at that ‘cute’ guy again, and leave the bar. Go home, sleep it off, and instead try to aspire to a meet cute, not a drunk meet.
Now you may be asking me, how do I find these so-called ‘meet cute’s? Where are they? How do I obtain one of my own?
Well first of all it can’t be bought, traded for, planned or designed you capatilist pig.
This isn’t Burger King, you can’t have everything your way! You can’t plan you love life, any more that you can plan the weather! You can, howver, plan for your life to happen, much like the weather.
Watch the signs.
The weather-man says it’s going to rain, but you don’t think will. What are you smarter that the weather-man? Did you go to weather-person school? Do you suddenly know how to read weather charts? God, you really a pompous ass, aren’t you??
Sorry.
So, let’s say you don’t bring an umbrella or a raincoat, and later you find yourself in the midst of a torrential downpour. You're there, standing in the rain, cursing the skies, and the Great Creator of theUuniverse, and even the weather-man, but let’s face it, you have no one to blame for this situation except yourself. You were given the warning and you chose not to listen, or care.
It’s the same with your love life, except instead of possible showers today, it’s a chance at love today. And instead of only occurring during the rainy season, and in the event of high humidity in the summertime, it’s happening every single day of your single life! (pun intended)
You know the opportunity is out there, but are you choosing to ignore what you see around you? Are you ignoring those hypothetical clouds on the horizon, and instead choosing to let the blurry vision of drunkenness guide your way?
So you’re watching for the signs, and I’m now going to hypothesize that one if these ‘signs’ hits you smack n the face (get your mind out of the gutters, okay that was probably just me). This sign, lets say goes something like this.
~*~*~*~
Suzy had worked on the cake for about 3 hours the night before. She was on her way to the party now, and even though she wasn’t sure why she was even going to this party, she had already baked the cake, so she might as well go. There was no doubt that Trevor would be there with his new girlfriend. The hotter one, the one he’d dumped Suzy for, but they still had a lot of mutual friends. She felt like she kept making up reasons to go to the party, and she hadn’t found a reason yet not to go. It was true she didn’t want to, but she hadn’t seen Trevor since he’d broken up with her, and she really did need to get out of the house more.
It didn’t help that after Trevor had broken up with her she left his place upset. She shouldn’t have been driving, but she just wanted to get out of there, and she didn’t even see that cat. She’s swerved to avoid it and wrapped about that lamp post. Now she was car-less, and using public transport. The bus smelled funny, and she had the cake on the seat next to her. She didn’t completely trust the cleanliness of the seat, but the cake was in it’s cardboard box, and it felt safe enough, it wasn’t like she was going to open it in the bus, there was no way she was going to expose food to this air!
As the bus tolled along it course, she suddenly wished she had an iPod, or even a cheap Walmart MP3 player. Everyone else on this bus seemed to have one, and they were able to suitably shut themselves off from this disgusting situation. She guessed that no one else was happy about having to take the bus either. The bus slowed, two more stops to go, she thought. Her stomach started to twist up. She was nervous, really nervous about this stupid party.
She should just skip it! No, she couldn’t do that, she’d already baked the cake, and people were expecting her, weren’t they? A few more dubious looking characters got on the bus and the last few chairs filled. She was a little unfamiliar with bus etiquette, but she moved to pick up her cake. As she did so the bus lunged forward and an unsuspecting passenger fell causing a domino affect. More and more decrepit bus passengers fell eventually ending in a young man toppling into the seat next to Suzy. All of this would have of course would have been a somewhat awkward bump if Suzy had moved the cake in time.
Suzy had not moved the cake in time and the young man now squirmed on the seat, realizing that hit something on his way down and now that something was all over his pants.
Suzy stared at the young man, mouth gaping open, in disbelief. He had crushed the cake!! He’d destroyed it! It was gone! Three hours of work for nothing!
Suzy couldn’t speak. She turned forward; other passengers were staring at the two of them. She could feel her face flush and before she could think she pulled the bell to stop the bus. It was one stop too early, she could walk, and she wanted to get off that bus as soon as possible! She wanted to get away from their prying eyes.
“Excuse me.” She whispered. The young man with cake on his pants obliged her. He was obviously as confused as her, and didn’t know what to do other than get up and let Suzy by.
She waited for the bus to stop and exited through the backdoor. She took a big step towards the curb. The bus driver, oblivious to what had just happened, and his role in it all, was apparently having difficulties steering today as well as accelerating.
Suzy almost had to jump to the sidewalk, and sighed as the bus drove away. She watched longingly after the bus, suddenly aware that she’s just left the cake on there. She didn’t even care. Anxiety and relieve washed over her simultaneously. She didn’t even want to go to party. It was a stupid idea to go. She wasn’t going know anyone there and she didn’t have cake to bring now. She slumped over and turned to cross the street. She may as well go home.
As she turned she walked right into someone.
“Sorry.” She muffled as she tried to walk by.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Can I do anything for you?”
Suzy looked up and saw the young man from the bus. The one that had both destroyed her cake and freed her from the horrific day that had lay ahead of her.
He looked about her age, and despite the fact that she knew he currently had cake on his pants, he was quite well dressed. She wondered what he had been doing riding the bus. He continued to stare at her as she analysed him, and she suddenly realized he had said something,
“Are you aright?”
“Yeah,” Suzy answered, “I’m fine.”
“But I ruined your cake. That must have taken hours!”
It did, she thought.
“Can I buy you a new one? It won’t be the same, I know, but you obviously needed a cake, wherever you were going.” He looked around, residential houses surrounded them.
“No it’s fine; I’m not going to that party anymore.” She answered.
“So quick? But it just happened? I mean I just sat on it. I mean destroyed it. How do you already know you’re not going?”
“I didn’t want to go, so now I won’t. I don’t have to now. So… thanks, I guess.” Suzy stumbled over the words. She just really wanted to go home and sulk. Maybe she could make another cake, and take it Trevor later. He had always liked her baking.
She took a step to the left and the young man countered. She took a step to the right, and he moved again. Why wouldn’t he let her by? She scowled, not exactly at him, but the whole situation.
“Can I -” he stopped, looking at Suzy’s expression.
“What?” she demanded. What did he want? She knew what she wanted. She wanted him to leave her alone.
“Umm, can I… umm, can I take you out for a coffee,” the words came out in a rush. “Or umm, yeah, a coffee? Or tea?”
Suzy stared at him. Did he just ask her out? Did the guy with cake on his pants just ask her out? The cake he had destroyed, her cake.
He looked at her. He was no doubt, questioning her mental stability at this point.
“Sure.” She replied. What did she have to lose?
“Good!” he beamed! “I’m John by the way.” He moved out of her way and ushered her to the corner. She had no idea where she was. Which stop had she gotten off at again? As they walked in silence, she saw a coffee shop on the next corner.
She introduced herself.
“I’m Suzy.” She put her hand out.
“It’s nice to meet you Suzy.” John beamed again. Suzy thought he smiled a lot for a guy who had just sat on a cake. John started apologizing again and asked again if there was anything he could do to help her.
“You already have helped me.” Suzy smiled.
Her phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket. She took it out and looked at the screen: “Trevor – cell… incoming call”.
Suzy hit the ignore button and turned her phone off. She and John walked up to the coffee shop and walked in, John talking the whole time, filling the silence easily. Suzy listened attentively, smiled at his jokes and felt more comfortable with him then she had in two years with Trevor.
~*~*~*~
So that was quite a long meet cute, but it proves my point. Take your headphones out of your ears, or put your cell phone down! Get off your computer (after you're done reading this of course). Experience the world around you and pay attention to where you are. Don’t text during a meal. Don’t take a call from friend down the block or waiting in the idling call outside. Turn your phone off sometimes!
When the signs come along, and don’t ignore them. Instead I suggest you ‘ignore’ all the distractions in your life. Ignore all the people who try to own you rather then want you. Ignore all the people who disregard you rather than love you. Ignore all the people who try to change you rather than appreciate you for who you are, faults and all.
Try hitting the ignore button.
The meet cute was better described in the movie “The Holiday”: Eli Wallach's character Arthur Abbott (a retired Hollywood screenwriter) described a meet-cute by saying
“Say a man and a woman both need something to sleep in and both go to the same men's pajama department. The man says to the salesman Ted, I just need bottoms, and the woman says, I just need a top. They look at each other and that's the meet-cute.”
Those are the kind of stories you want to tell your grandchildren.
Well there are a few things on my mind today, not the least of which is when my gross ugly cold will go away. It’s not exactly the worst cold I’ve ever had, but no one likes being sick, and over a holiday weekend, when there’s delicious chocolate and candies to be had. All I wanted to do was curl and go to sleep.
Who am I kidding, I did do that! And let me tell you, napping is still as awesome as it was in Kindergarten!
Between naps and Easter celebrations, I actually had quite the productive weekend, and managed to stay off my computer (for the most part). I’ve recently heard about really cool thing called ‘The Real World’. I was unfamiliar with this strange thing at first, but I tried it out this weekend, and it was great! It’s full of fresh air and sunshine! It’s a bit cold, but I seriously suggest you try it!
Now moving on to more important things, I went to go see a movie last night, and while I was fairly excited about it, because I had just read the book, I was so disappointed with the movie.
If you’ve been paying attention to movies at all recently, you already know which movie I’m talking about! The Last Song.
Bleh, it was terrible!!
Now I realize that when a movie it ‘based on a novel’, that doesn’t really mean it’s based on that novel at all. It could have the same characters and maybe even the same settings, but beyond that the similarities usually don’t continue. The Last Song, based on the novel by Nicholas Sparks, was a pathetic representation of a fairly decent, albeit adolescent, book.
They left out story lines and characters that could have added so much depth to the film. It felt like the "Miley Cyrus” show and in one scene she started singing. I immediately thought “her contract probably included a few clauses stating that Miley HAD to sing in the movie and it would NOT get cut.” The whole film felt like a thinly veiled attempt to bolster Miley's career, and I personally feel it was a bit of a flop. I mean I know the book revolved around "Ronnie" the character Miley is playing, but the movie cover is just a little ridiculous:
Shes on the cover twice, and her apparent love interest get a side shot, I mean what is that?! I know he's not a well know actor in the states, but he's fairly well know in Australia, and I think he deserves a little more that a faded out side shot on the cover!
I much prefer the cover of the book:
It's a beach. What more do you need to know? If you want to know more, go to the movie! If you want to know who's in it, you could put them on the beach. but even the cover off the movie looks like the Miley Cyrus show!
She can’t sing and she can’t act.
The forced relationship between the two main characters surprised me the most. I read right before going into the movie that Miley Cyrus and Liam Hemsworth are now a real life couple and I’m still scratching my head at that one. I know it’s often true that if there’s is romance between the two actors, it doesn’t show up on the big screen, because, lets face it, it’d be like 20 people watching you and your boyfriend make out. Awkward! I could feel Mr. Hemsworth trying to pull is unworthy partner along and I was truly unconvinced that the ‘Ronnie Miller’ Character (the girl that damn story revolves around) had even changed at all by the end of the film.
Greg Kinnear (a favourite of mine for quite some time, from some of my favourite movies, like Little Miss Sunshine, and Ghost Town) and Liam Hemsworth (new to my favourite actors list, him and his excellent American Accent) completely carried this movie with a bumbling and lisping Miley Cyrus along for the ride. The supporting characters did little to help, and I felt some of the best ‘extras’ could have aided this movie so much! Nick Lashaway, who played the destructive and possibly psychopathic arsonist Marcus, had so much potential in the movie. I think he had about a total of three minutes screen time and I was hoping for and expecting so much more of that character. I was quite disappointed.
My favourite part of the movie had to be the younger brother Jonah, played by the very talented Bobby Coleman. Only 12 years old, and this kid has worked with big names such as Micheal Keaton, Jane Lynch, William H. Macy, John Cusack, and Amanda Peet, and the list goes on. I see big things for this kid, and I hope this dismal effort at boosting Miley Cyrus’ career won’t be held against him.
Over all I wish I hadn’t gone to see this movie in the theatres, not worth the money. It’s worth a rental, but I think a bottle of wine would probably have to be involved to really enjoy it. At the very least you got ogle Liam Hamsworth, and revel in the fact that he’s actually a good actor too. Miley Cyrus on the other hand should probably stick to being a famous person’s kid, that she can play (most of the time).
In an attempt to flush my mind of the affront that was ‘The Last Song’ I was perusing some music videos on YouTube today, and decided to check out ‘Rude Boy’ by Rihanna.
Holy Mother of Dog! That is 4 minutes I will NEVER get back!! Why Rihanna, why?! I wanted to turn it off so much, but I kept hoping it would get better, maybe not so raunchy. I was disappointed, yet again. I actually preferred Lady Gagas ‘Telephone’ ft. Beyoncé to that piece o’ shite. I mean yes, Telphone is nine minutes, but at least there's is kind of a story, and while the dialouge in the middle is more distracting than anything else, i wasn't left wanted to gouge my eyes out with a rusty spoon at the end.
When will women learn? It is not alright for women to flaunt themselves shamelessly like that and then demand respect. One or the other, you can’t have it both ways. You can’t be an independent respectable woman, spearheading her own career and at the same time done shoes likable to stripper boots, and an outfit to match, and expect people to take you seriously. I don’t know who the hell was directing that video, but I know what their goal was! I’ll give you a hint; it has nothing to do with musical integrity and a little more to do with a teenage boy alone in his dimly lit bedroom, with a box of tissues. I recently read an article that said Rihanna was “fed up with music executives placing products into her music videos, because it transforms her work into "ad campaigns."” To me that sounds like she actually respects her work and her craft, but music videos like the one I saw today and ‘Hard’ ft. Jeezy don’t exactly “…tell the story of the song” as she is quoted as saying. It’s a slippery slope, and hoards of female artists have fallen down it. It seems more and more are delving deeper and deeper into that abyss that is known as sexual appeal. They all seem to claim that it’s empowering woman but in what was does Rude Boy, Dirrty, Womanizer or Get Right do for our image?
I’m going to stop before I go on a rant!! (oops, might be too late)
As I mentioned before I’m fighting off a cold as such I didn’t get to the WOTD, even though that often brings jot to my day. I’ve decide to just look at one of the WOTD from the past 4 days. The past four words have been: April 3, 2010 – malversation: Misconduct, corruption, or extortion in public office. April 4, 2010 – manumit: to free from slavery or servitude. April 5, 2010 – grok: to understand, especially in a profound and intimate way. And, April 6, 2010 – land of Nod: A mythical land of sleep.
Now my first thought was to go for today’s word, land of Nod, given my affection for naps and sleeping in general (one of my favourite lines of course being, “My life is one long trauma of interrupted sleep.”), but I decided against is, because how could I so casually ignore the other beauties there. Malversation is really quite fabulous and while it seems only appropriate for ‘Lewinsky’ like situations, and I don’t see myself using it any day soon, I look forward to keeping that gem in the arsenal! Manumit caught my eye, and trying to read it was an adventure all it itself. The emphasis is at the very end of that word it feels off centre somehow. I do feel however that Dictionary.com should probably be more aware of the ads the come up next to their WOTD. I was more distracted by the ad above this word and the ensuing confusion, then the word itself.
This was the ad:
I was really left a little more confused than when I came.
I was finally left with grok, and I think out of all my choice it was my favourite anyway. Yes, it’s slang, yes it’s one heavy and loud syllable, and yes I plan on using it at some point today. I don’t know how or when and the day is nearly over, but I feel the need to throw this one out there and just see how many flies I catch. Is the little morsel honey or vinegar? The word was originally coined by Robert A. Heinlein in the science fiction novel "Stranger in a Strange Land", where it is a Martian word meaning literally "to drink" and metaphorically "to be one with". Where its current meaning came form is a bit of a mystery to me. I actually feel a little more comfortable with the original definition. “to drink”. I think that probably because grok sounds so closely related to grog which is defined as any strong alcoholic beverage and dates back to 1770. it’s slightly more cemented in the language than grok, but I think it might just be able to ride the tails of that jacket.
Well, I feel I’ve rambled on enough for today, and I’m nearing the end of my work day, so I want to get this posted. I’d like to leave you with some great music. I know it’s only Tuesday and we still have a few days left before we’re supposed to think about the weekend, but these tunes seem to get me through the work week, and I hope they do the same for you. I have recently become mildly obsessed with “The Script”. I know they’ve been around for a while but I discovered them through their recent North American debut of “Breakeven” but be sure to check out the rest of their album. “We Cry” and “Talk You Down” have already made it onto my ring tones list. Love them!
Also, I’d like to let everyone know about “Gold Stars are for Suckers”. While I personally love gold stars, and would never want to aide in the soiling of their reputations, this band has very little to do with gold stars, and more with freaking awesome tunes! Check them out on FaceBook, and have a listen. If you’re in the Vancouver area you might even be able to check out a show. It remains to be seen what they are like live, but if the show put on by their drummer Mo Sherwood is any indication, you can look forward to a lively and enthusiastic show with biting one liners and gripping wit (that is if they’re crazy enough to give him a mike!)
That’s all I got in my today, and hopefully I remember to properly link all my references, so you can get a clear picture of my ‘internets wanderings’, and not get lost in the articles and related links, as I often do.
Word of the Day – Friday, April 2, 2010 Slake \SLAYK\, Verb 1.To satisfy; to quench; to extinguish; as, to slake thirst. 2.To cause to lessen; to make less active or intense; to moderate; as, slaking his anger. 3.To cause (as lime) to heat and crumble by treatment with water. intransitive verb: 1.To become slaked; to crumble or disintegrate, as lime.
Well, to be honest, I'm really not sure how I feel about this word. I was trying to say it out loud and even though it does have a handy-dandy pronunciation guide, I just wasn’t feeling good about it.
“Slake, slake, slake.” Hmm, that can’t be right, it doesn’t sound right...
Well I listened to the pronunciation, and sure enough, it was. It rhymes with ‘lake’ (well in my accent anyway)
Have you ever said this word? I don’t think I have ever and as always, I will now endeavour to. I really like one for the quotes that comes with it on Dictionary.com, but the worst part is, I don’t even like the quote for using this word, so much as I prefer the content.
“My companions never drink pure water and the... beer serves as much to slake their thirst as to fill their stomachs and lubricate conversation.” -- Philippe Descola, The Spears of Twilight
Using the word slake does seem to class up the whole sentence. It doesn’t even matter what your saying, but throwing slake in there takes it up a notch. Let me try: “Although my plans tonight only involve a bar and a comedy club, and I’ll probably drink until I can’t stand, the least I can do is try to slake my desire for a party”.
Okay, that sentence was a bit raw, but I’m working on the fly here, as those really are my plan for the night and I have to go get ready soon!
Now if you were picturing a drunk girl falling over and making a fool of herself, you would have been right, until, of course, I threw ‘slake’ in there. Then all of sudden it seems like an innocent quest for a good time. No more, no less, and although tequila shots and bad decisions will most likely be involved, it still seem so coy and kind all because our tricky little word slake.
I think it’s growing on me. I could use this word to my advantage.
In reading the full entry I see the third definition and I have to admit, it confused me more than I thought it would:
To cause (as lime) to heat and crumble by treatment with water.
So lime can ‘slake’ but please don’t get confused. It does not now, nor had it ever had anything to do with slate (as far as I can tell at least). Slate is a rock, and it does tend to crumble, but it is not lime. Lime slakes, but it’s not slate. Confused yet?
In looking at the etymology of our fun (and confusing) little word didn’t help matters. From the Old English slacian meaning "slacken an effort," from slæc meaning"lax" (see slack).
While it was related to the word slack, it neither sounds like, nor relates to it anymore. Don’t you just love when that happens! While slake (definition two) does refer to a lessening (as in perhaps lessening the tightness on a rope) it doesn’t now, and personally I just think that’s rude. If you mean one thing you should just keep meaning that one thing!
Of course that’s not how the English language works, and I would never have as much fun with it if it did, but alas, I can but complain to no one, and hope no one listens. I like words to change. (Go Functional Shift!)
So I've lost the plot a little and I may have gone on a rant there, but back to main event: “slake”
Final verdict: Meh? (yeah that a scientific rating, don’t judge it!!)
I mean, it’s a good word and all and I wouldn’t discount it. It’s quite useful for classing up a line, but I can’t help but think it would lose it flashiness if you used it too much. So please, use it sparingly and as always, use it well (and correctly) but don’t count on it. I don’t think it’s going to hold up its end of the bargain as much you hope it will.
Word of the Day - Thursday, April 01, 2010 hugger-mugger \HUH-guhr-muh-guhr\ noun 1. A disorderly jumble; muddle; confusion. 2. Secrecy; concealment. adjective: 1. Confused; muddled; disorderly. 2. Secret. adverb: 1. In a muddle or confusion. 2. Secretly. transitive verb: 1. To keep secret. intransitive verb: 1. To act in a secretive manner.
I like to get my word of thee Days off Dictionary.com as it really does save me the trouble of having to pick a random word myself each day.
I’ve often wondered how they choose the WOTD. I’m quite certain that now it’s some kind of computer generated system, that picks a word at random, but I’d like to think that previously someone opened the Dictionary to a random page, closed their eyes and pointed. I like to imagine a gut (or gal, I’m not one to discriminate) getting up in the morning (possibly on the east coast, so the WOTD is up right away), and groggily wondering out of bed to a giant dictionary, that, I’d like to think, take up the entire living room (or is that just my dream?). He (or she) pours a cup of coffee, and saunters over thee big book. After carefully selecting a page, he puts the cup of coffee down and throwing all of his body weight into it, he flips the book open. (Let’s just hope he stretched first.) Picking a random word could be as easy as closing his eyes, spinning a few times and pointing, or perhaps throwing a coin in the air and seeing where it lands.
It could be a huge performance or just a simple procedure, but that it’s what I like to imagine, rather than a computerized system, that probably posts the word automatically.
However, I’ve wasted too much time already on that, and now on the word. Hugger-mugger. I have to admit, I’ve never heard this word. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say it, and I've certainly never said it myself, but as with most WOTD’s, I’m going to try. For the most part, this word is 50/50 ‘confusing’ and ‘secret’, not to mention, it’s actually a little bit confusing. (sorry, that was a bad pun, even for me) As a noun, my first thought was a mugger giving you a hug. It would be exactly what the first definition says it is: “A disorderly jumble; muddle; confusion.”
“Oh, hey stranger, I don’t know you, but you look like you’re going in for a hug. Oh you are going in for a hug. Hmm, well I don’t know how I feel about that, you don’t look very trustworthy. Oh, what’s that? You are trust worthy, well in that case, come here you big grizzly bear! My goodness that was a good hug!
Hey!
Why are you running away? I think I want another one of those bad boys. I haven’t been hugged like that since 19 ‘ought 2! Well okay, I’ll be seeing you, kind stranger! Bye!!
Hey, where’s my wallet?
Oh Goddammit!! You Hugger-Mugger!!”
Now if that isn’t a confusing situation, I don’t know what else would be?
As for the other definitions of the words and all the other types of words it can be, I’m happy to leave those ones to the professionals.
“I followed him to that hugger-mugger cabin he had hidden in the oaks on the other side of the swale and nipped behind the trees.” -- Roy Parvin, The Loneliest Road in America
It seems a little redundant to me to say he had a Hugger-mugger cabin hidden in the woods, because I was under the impression that hugger-mugger meant secretive, which implies it’s hidden, but Roy Parvin wrote a M*therF*cking book, so I’ll let it go… this time.
You better watch your back though, Roy!
I don’t know if I’ll be able to use this WOTD myself today (mostly because I can only picture my own interpretation of the word). I don’t particularly want to hug a stranger and take their wallet, nor do I want to be mugged today, but I will endeavour to use it anyways, even if I have to hide a cabin in the woods myself!
