I Am This Woman

I get an insanely huge rush getting these memes and quizzes right! Esp. when it comes to usage and words. Thing is, a couple of these are not as intuitive, as the “correct” usage is heard less often.

Another fun word nerd link that I ran across today (thanks, Emily!) is this column on copyediting from The Washington Post. It says so much to me, and the irony is thick as I leave an editing job for The Next Big Thing.

(And I’m not sure I would call myself an “English Genius.” More like a “Language Expert.” Or an “Educated Woman.” Or Someone Who Reads.)

Your result for The Commonly Confused Words Test…

English Genius

You scored 100% Beginner, 100% Intermediate, 100% Advanced, and 100% Expert!

You did so extremely well, even I can’t find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don’t. You have an extensive vocabulary, and you’re not afraid to use it properly! Way to go!

Thank you so much for taking my test. I hope you enjoyed it!

For the complete Answer Key, visit my blog: http://shortredhead78.blogspot.com/.

Take The Commonly Confused Words Test at HelloQuizzy

This child (in the video) is so cute you will need to sit in a chair. I warned you.

I love that he commits to the song. He has a future in karaoke, I think.

(34 of 50)

Yay me. I’m 50 today. Although it’s just another day, and I feel the same (ie, back pain if I sleep too long, need glasses to see computer screen, where’s my coffee?!, and all that jazz).

For today, visiting here in Austin, I am going to attempt a perfect day. One can never plan these things, but I’m going to hit a number of spots that I know to be awesome and cool and just regular deals, not completely FUNNED OUT AND SIX FLAGS EXTREME!

On my list, in no particular order, though I’m thinking about scones right NOW:

Texas French Bread

Waterloo Ice House

Threadgill’s

Hyde Park Bar and Grill

Hill Country Weavers

Zilker Park/Barton Springs

Lady Bird Lake bats (formerly Town Lake)

Toy Joy/Terra Toys

Bull Creek Park

and the hotel swimming pool, sauna and spa….

Spending some time nurturing the Writer Me

Hanging with my son and Miss Lucy

Brie and pepper water crackers

German chocolate cake

Sushi

Massage and hair salon visit

(and much more…)

Add to this mix my Knitting Guru, my cousin the atty-at-law, a handful of old friends, all my nieces and nephews, and it would be the perfect birthday. Alas, I think only the Guru knows I’m in town. Obviously, there is little chance that I will have the time, patience or desire to hit all those spots (as I type I can think of 10 more). I did the hanging out and drinking thing last night (to great amusement, and a slight headache this morning). I will also make phone calls to round up those far away that I do miss… and I have a STACK of unopened birthday cards/packages that I’ve been saving.

If we were going to make this a Perfect Day(tm), what I REALLY want is to be in Italy, Hungary or Spain… but that wasn’t to be this time. No worries, there are plans afoot for next summer already (which right now are leaning towards Paris and the UK. And why not! It’s all good. There is no magic to this one day, it’s how I live the days before and after it that matter… esp. the days that come after.

No, I can’t do it all today, and I may not be able to do it all in this lifetime. But I’ve got 50 more years to try (I am ambitious), and I’m not going to waste one day (though I am certain there will be some wasted hours in traffic, waiting rooms and the like, but I’m not even going to let THAT bug me!).

I am this woman, living the only life I’ve been given. And it’s not bad, people. Not bad at all.

(27 of 50) (not to be confused with Greta Thragnusdottir’s magnum opus - a much later but fragmented text which is considered to be the first Icelandic historical romance)

I suppose it is time to begin the story about how I discovered these Icelandic texts. I had always meant to reveal them in appropriate academic channels, but since I am no longer an academic, I can perhaps allow myself a little leeway. The problem is, however, the only other person in the Universe who ever expressed any interest in these important works was my father, and he has now passed on. In fact, if you look at the Moultrie (Georgia) High School Library check-out card for 1935-36, you will see only his signature (and one overdue fine).

Thragnussen was lesser known. Ok, he was unknown until his eddas were discovered in the 19th C. by a sheepherder, and documented by a fellow from the British Museum who had traveled to Iceland for the hákari, which he believed to be a cure for toe fungus.

(I’m sorry. I’ve run out of time tonight to finish this truly fascinating and little known story from literary history. More soon.)

Memorial Day Weekend, originally uploaded by tigerwillow.

(26 of 50)
Some days, you have to work. Some days, you need to play with Sculpey. And sometimes you just have to ride the rollercoaster.

Lap Dog, originally uploaded by tigerwillow.

(17 of 50)
My 40 lb. lap dog, Miss Lucy. She is not allowed on the couch unless in a lap, so it works out for her. Tonight, I held her and scratched her chest until she fell asleep. Then she started snoring and did so for about 15 minutes. She missed most of House.

(10 of 50)

I used to write koans when I was in graduate school. Dealing with really brainy, weighty ideas and analytical thinking all day makes you want to play with abstractions and absurdities. Here are a few.

(A koan is a brief saying or teaching. The more you think on it, the more the ideas bloom in your mind. Mine may or may not fill the bill.)

Wear red when cooking beets.

Tiger balm is kitty bane.

Practice breathing.

(this from my father) Don’t worry about what people think because they so seldom do.

(this from my astronomy prof) Put your money on gravity.

Cooperate with reality.

(4 of 50)

I have a total aversion to voice mail announcements. And this issue seems to be escalating in the roster of Annoying Things. Is there anyone who doesn’t know to wait for the beep?

When I get someone’s voice mail announcement, unless they have a habit of changing it to reflect some information I might need, I start pressing 1 or # or 0 at the very first opportunity. “Please listen to the menu as it has changed.” No, sorry. That part never changes!

THE.MOST.ANNOYING.voice mail menu ever is for Virgin Mobile. I had one for a brief time and “top-ups” had to be done by phone… the MUSIC! AUGHHHHHHHH! the hipster chicky-poo voice! AUGHHHHHHHHHH! They had voice recognition… so you COULD NOT press buttons. You had to SAY “TOP UP.” And you had to say it as though you were the coolest, poshiest of the Posh Spice Fangirls. I believe they hadn’t reckoned on the Texas accent when angered. So I got a lot of “Sorry, didn’t catch that. If you’d like to top up, say TOP UP.” I said a lot of things that rhyme with shuck off. (more…)

Always with great intentions for writing posts, I think about my blog all the time. I eat at a restaurant and see an interesting/funny table. “I’ll blog that!” Then I forget.

When driving along, I see a bumper sticker or hear a song, and a confluence of ideas takes place. I think, “ah, that would be good to work out in a blog entry! I’ll do that when I get home.” Then I forget.

I have little notebooks in my purse. In the car. I have lots of pens. I like to shop for pens and notebooks. I browse websites with writing tools, writing books and writing advice. And yet, I can go for a month without posting in my blog.

Time to wake up. In fact, I am approaching a milestone birthday, and I have an idea. I may regret this in a few days, but here is the plan for waking up my creative spirit, for invoking the Muse(s) and beginning (continuing) my writing life.

“Fifty to Fifty” is the title I made up in the car. I toyed with “50 2 50″ or “Fifty2Fifty” or 50250 or “Fifty to 50″… but the gist is that I propose to write an entry a day, for the fifty days leading up to my 50th birthday. Which is June 15. That means I start on April 26, but since I plan to celebrate June 15 in a special way and may not be near a keyboard, I will start on April 25. Yes. That is my plan.

Since coming up with this creative inspiration, I have been listing (in my head) a number of topics. Will I have a subtheme? an agenda? I don’t know. All I know is that despite the arbitrary nature of the calendar and time, my brain and psyche somehow KNOWS about these birthdays. My 40th was fantastic. My online friends made that day amazing for me. And now I want to give back.

My 50th birthday will not be the big media event as was Oprah’s. I hope my hair looks good, but honestly I just want meet it however it comes. In haste, in abandon, in justice, in peace, in consternation, in revelry (or Ravelry!), in ceremony, in joy, in Austin.

I confess that I contemplated lying. Yes, 50 is a good year to start lying about my age, I thought. I rehearsed all the birthdates and age differences I’d have to adjust. I’d have to lie on a daily, cellular basis. I’d also have to forget stuff, like JFK’s assassination. Jim Fowler’s appearances on The Tonight Show. I’d have to get serious about plastic surgery.

No thanks. I’d rather redefine 50 for myself, for readers, for friends who are not yet there. So, just buckle in and play along, friends. It’s going to be a fun ride. 50 is the new 50.

Lucy in the Park, originally uploaded by tigerwillow.

Lovely girl. It’s been six weeks since her adoption, and she now notices a pattern to the days. I get herded to the dog food twice a day, I am alerted to the presence of squirrels in the back yard, the trash truck in the alley or the guy with the spaniel on a ridiculously long leash. I am also told when it is time to go for walks on leashes so that the neighborhood may know that it is safe.

At 2:50pm, she comes into my office and looks politely at her watch. Time to pick up the boy from school. She has a following of squealy girls and a few guys at the schoolyard. But if that little black fluffy dog is there, forget it – all her manners go by the wayside.

When we go to the dog park, she spends a lot of time herding the smaller dogs, and chasing the ball-chasing dogs. She only herds the resident terrier at the end of the day when she is bored with everything else. He growls a warning, then apologizes and they snooze together on the dog couch, on opposite ends.

She also goes to all doctor appointments, shows promise as a service dog, and exhibits impeccable car manners. Except on the road trip when she nosed into the scones I was saving for Monahans. They were gone when I looked for them - an innocent but faintly orange and cranberry-loving look on her face.

She sleeps under my bed, and when she dreams, the woofs and quick inhalations come up through the mattress more than become audible. ONe night only, I let her sleep on the bed with me. She was a most amiable companion and did not hog the bed at all. When she sleeps under my chair during the day, she sometimes leaves a puddle of drool and then modestly cleans it up when she wakes up.

She is my last three dogs rolled into one and I adore her.