Beautiful words
- At March 03, 2009
- By Roxanne Snopek
- In Roxanne Writes On
- 0
Beautiful words
I wish I could take credit for these beautiful words, but alas, I cannot. These are from the Washington Post’s Mensa Invitational, which has once again asked readers to take any word from the dictionary and alter it by adding, subtracting or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.
You’ve probably read some of these winners, but perhaps a few will be new to you. A couple of them were certainly spew-worthy for me.
1. Cashtration (n.): the act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.
2. Ignoranus: A person who is both stupid and an asshole.
3. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.
4. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.
5. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
6. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.
7. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high
8. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn’t get it.
9. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
11. Karmageddon: It’s like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it’s like, a serious bummer.
12. Decafalon (n): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
13. Glibido: All talk and no action.
14. Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
15. Arachnoleptic Fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you’ve accidentally walked through a spider web.
16. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
17. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you’re eating.
The Washington Post has also published the winning submissions
to its yearly contest in which readers are asked to supply alternate
meanings for common words. And the winners are:
1. Coffee, n. The person upon whom one coughs.
2. Flabbergasted, adj. Appalled by discovering how much weight one has gained.
3. Abdicate, v. To give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
4. Esplanade, v, To attempt an explanation while drunk.
5. Willy-nilly, adj. Impotent.
6. Negligent, adj.Absentmindedly answering the door when wearing only a nightgown.
7. Lymph, v. To walk with a lisp.
8.Gargoyle, n. Olive-flavored mouthwash.
9.Flatulence, n. Emergency vehicle that picks up someone who has been run over by a steamroller.
10. Balderdash, n. A rapidly receding hairline.
11. Testicle n. A humorous question on an exam.
12. Rectitude, n. The formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.
13. Pokemon, n.A Rastafarian proctologist.
14. Oyster, n. A person who sprinkles his conversation with yiddishisms.
15. Frisbeetarianism, n. The belief that, after death, the soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
16. Circumvent, n. An opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.
Back on the weight loss plan…
I’m back on the weight loss plan, with Herbal Magic, that is. I joined in spring, 2007, lost 23 pounds and kept it off for over a year. Then, well, it all started to go sideways. I blame my good friend Miss Vickie. And her Mexican cousin, Dorito. And my genetic tendency to bake cinnamon buns when experiencing stress.
And last but not least, Maui. Look at the photos. See the one with the fondue? I think I gained 5 pounds that night. It was awesome. See all the photos with us raising umbrella-festooned glasses? That frothy stuff? Fat, booze and sugar. With pineapple on the side, so we can call it health food.
Now, I know I’m not really overweight. At 5’7″ tall, I can hide a fair bit of poundage, as long as I wear drapy tops. By the insurance charts, I should weigh between 120 and 150. I was nearing 170 when I decided to do something about it and I’m glad I did. A tendency to overweight runs in my family, as does hypertension.
But dieting is a “heavy” issue for me. Taking the plunge took me back to a place I was reluctant to visit. In my late teens and early 20s, I was fortunate enough to receive psychiatric treatment from an eating disorder specialist. Dr. Thakur probably saved my life or at least changed its direction. So, I know about obsessive eating and dieting and what kind of mental torture a person can put herself through in the quest for perfection of one kind or another.
Me, I ate to “stuff down” those bad, bad feelings that a person has when she doesn’t like or even know herself very well. Then I purged to get rid of it all. Worked well. Until I discovered that a) a person could kill herself that way and b) there’s a better way. You can learn to face life, even the tough stuff.
Now I’m a grown up, with kids the age I was when I was bulimic. They know about this part of my history, even though I don’t talk about it much. It’s uncomfortable. Embarrassing, even. I mean, really. What a disgusting thing to do. But we all have a dark side, an ugly, disgusting, incompetent, frightened, inadequate side. I got to know mine early on and learned to look after her, like the needy child she was (and sometimes still is.)
And I continued to take care of myself. I ate well, properly, and enjoyed myself. I exercised and thanked my lucky stars that I hadn’t permanently screwed up my metabolism. I decried every diet as a “four letter word that starts with DIE!”
Then I hit forty.
For the first time in my adult life, my weight began to creep upwards for no apparent reason. I still exercised but it wasn’t enough. First I wore size 8 jeans. Then size 10. Then I had to buy size 12s. Again, not terribly overweight. But, given my particular history and body and brain, I weighed more than I should have.
That’s when I did it the first time. Herbal Magic is probably no better or worse than any diet plan, but it worked for me. If I hadn’t gotten lazy – especially in Maui! – I’d have kept it off. (Seriously, I really enjoyed that fondue.)
For the record, I’ve been sticking to the plan since Friday. That’s five whole days. I’ll keep you posted. Maybe I’ll even put up a photo, once I’m back into those size 8 jeans!
Five people, seven days, one bathroom
- At October 28, 2008
- By Roxanne Snopek
- In Roxanne Writes On
- 0
Five people, seven days, one bathroom
Family vacations get a little weird as the kids get older. Each time we’re together, I wonder how long it’ll be until the next one. With Kid1 at UBC, Kid2 at UFV and Kid3 heading to high school next year, our schedule has changed. No more easy-going years of un-schooling, when waited until our favourite spots emptied as the great unwashed masses headed back to the September routine. And when we could live for a week in a two-bedroom, one-bathroom cabin. Now we juggle a lot of different agendas and we all need our space. ESPECIALLY bathroom space.
Gone are the days in the rustic little cabin right on the beach; we’ve moved up, to the big ones with hot tubs and DVD players and two full baths. But it’s so worth it. It’s very gratifying when our young adult children choose to spend time with us.
Also… about those early years of homeschooling being so easy-going… that was tongue-in-cheek… that came through, right? Parenting truly isn’t for weaklings, and homeschooling requires a very special sort of masochism.
But now, at almost the end of it, I wouldn’t change a thing. Our kids are the greatest.