new word learned today

source: Tabatha, "Shear Genius," re: Tyson

FIGJAM

F%ck
I'm
Good,
Just
Ask
Me

as promised: pen's lexicon

Synapses misfire, the mouth opens, and pen speaks. Even though she knows it's wrong. Sometimes, not often enough, wine can be blamed. Here's a (totally incomplete) list of verbal retardations:

pugnent: as in, The small, squashy-faced dog, who recently rolled in skunk-stink, smells rather pugnent today.

pohsh: as in, David Beckham married the Spice Girl whose name is Pohsh.

post-bachelorette: as in, Pen went to Chicago for a year to get her post-bachelorette degree in writing. No really, it was in the English language and everything.

Having trouble with just the "p" words? Oh no, not even close. Here are some favorite phrases that give me frequent trouble:

straight and arrow: as in, That guy really needs to shape up, get himself on the straight and arrow. (Because arrows are, like, straight...)

intensive purposes: as in, For all intensive purposes, pen lived twenty-some years before she realized it was "intents and purposes," and to this day, still doesn't really believe or get it.

kitten kaboodle: as in, Is that a box made by the Caboodles company with like, baby cat pictures on it? Caboodles were always in bubble gum colors like pink and purple, so that would totally make sense.

And lastly...

hit-her-to: as in, I read most of The Time Machine in the eighth grade before I realized the word was HITHERTO. No lie.

Okay, enough mortification for now. But I'll share more words and phrases as I remember them, and undoubtedly screw 'em up.

Five (Obviously Weird) Facts About Pen

Thanks, megs, for the tag. So here goes:

1. I used to get really inspired ideas for writing in the shower. Now whenever I take a shower, all I can think about is how much I hate our shower caddy for rusting, and how I hate shower caddies in general. Metal rusts; plastic mildews. It seems there is no good solution for shower product storage. And it's such an eyesore. The last time I purchased a shower caddy, I actually applied white rustoleum to the rod prior to installation, which worked--but I failed to spray the baskets. I'm wondering if I could keep up with mildew, and/or if a plastic caddy would be aesthetically pleasing enough? Or maybe I should just buy yet another (though final??) metal caddy, rustoleum the whole thing five times over, and call it a day.

2. Whenever I pull down the attic door, I get really scared and kind of wince because I'm afraid it's going to hit me in the face a la Chevy Chase in National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. Even though attic doors typically aren't on rollers like Clark's in the movie. Ours isn't. (I can't, by the way, remember if I've blogged about this before, but there it is.)

3. When I cut things with scissors, my jaw opens and closes in time to the cutting. I didn't realize this until last night when J.Lo kindly mocked me for it. So I tried to cut with my jaw sealed shut, and it was really hard. I wonder if this is similar to the Mouth Open While Applying Mascara phenomena, as detailed by Bridget Jones.

4. I mispronounce words on a regular basis, which only compounds my Fear of Talking. Most often, it's a word that I've previously pronounced correctly, but there's some sort of synapse misfiring that happens (which I watch in my brain like an unstoppable traffic accident), and it just comes out all wrong. Sometimes it's a word I've read but have never spoken, or heard spoken out loud, so I give it a whirl and fall right on my verbal ass. It's particularly embarassing considering that my degrees relate to language. Also, this is something that has been on my List of Things to Blog About for over a week now, so coming soon: Vocab Lessons by Pen. It will be a treat.

5. Even though I'm socially retarded and parties and hosting make me super-anxious, I love throwing them (parties), anyway. I've already started decorating for K.Lo's birthday bashes later this week, and it's totally off the hook. Out of control. It's like we're living day to day in a kid's birthday party, and I love it. It is a madness I embrace. Everyone's birthday, regardless of age, should be a week-long celebration.

Back to hosting, though--I love the prep, I love planning and list-making. I love shopping for all the food and putting it out in bowls and on little plates. And I love seeing people have a good time, it's like I'm giving a gift on a mass scale. The downside and nervousness creeps in, though, because as always it's a risk: they may not like it. And then it's like you're a Party Pariah. But it's worth it all, I think.