Daddy Dadaism
Last night I had the most bizarre conversation with my father. I’m still not sure what happened during the phone call, because I think I was transported to an alternate dimension. What I thought was going to be a linear conversation about the logistics of him coming over for Christmas turned into random allusions to the Gila Monster interspersed with Thai epithets. I spent the evening really confused. I suppose I’m used to being confused, but I guess this came at me sideways. My family is really crazy. I’m serious. They’re crazy.
Filed under Bizarre, Family | Comment (0)Name Change
After lying in bed last night mulling over the secrets of the universe (and after reading Adam875’s comments), I have decided that it is actually a bit of a misnomer to call my friend with the creative spelling “Mrs. Malaprop.” So I have now dubbed her Miss Spellign. No, that is not a typo; I did that deliberately to honor her typing and proof-reading skills. And this way, you can’t confused her with any Beverly Hills 90210 alumni.
Filed under Bizarre, Blogging | Comment (0)Mr. & Mrs. Malaprop Strike in Tandem
Caution: if you are easily offended at people making fun of spelling errors, do not read this post.
I know I’m a snob. I freely admit it. Spelling and grammar matter to me, and I don’t care who knows it. I’m the person who finds and points out the typos in menus. I think it’s a family thing, because the other day, my brother and I were in a New York deli and snickered together at the rows upon rows of individually labeled “Pumpkin Laof” and “Zucchini Laof.”
So when my friend, Mr. Malaprop, sent out another one of his updates, I was once again amused at his witless spelling. Throughout his email, he continually mentions his search for leather “bottels,” which, when I first saw the word, figured it was a typo. But he consistently spelled it that way throughout the entire letter, even using different forms of the word, like “bottelmaker.” Because he was trying to do some research into the history of bottlemaking, I thought perhaps he was quoting a 15th century spelling of the word, but when he did actually quote a piece of literature, he spelled the word correctly. Go figure.
I have another friend (or, as she would put it, “freind”) who throws all spelling rules out the window when she types, and it’s almost an art form how she finds new spellings for words. I was recently invited to a party of hers where the subject of the invitation itself reads, “Not having enought [sic] fun?” I am having fun now. Ooh, write something else. Please, please write something else. I haven’t had a good giggle since…since Mr. Malaprop sent me something!
Filed under Bizarre, Blogging, Grammar | Comments (3)Hoodlum Hasidim
On Monday, Ray and I had to go home, rent a van, and bring it back to the Ren Faire. The leather shop needed to be packed up, and none of us have cars big enough to bring back all the crap they’ve accumulated over the summer, at least not in one trip. Thus, it was up to me to keep Ray company as we traversed half the state of Pennsylvania twice in one day.
Luckily we had plenty to talk about, such as setting a date for our wedding (March 17, 2007), a place for the wedding (Oahu, Hawaii), how big the wedding should be (SMALL: only 30 people or fewer, so don’t be offended if you don’t get an invitation), and if we should have a big reception when we get home for our friends who can’t make it all the way to Hawaii (that’s a big yes).
At one point, we stopped at a rest stop, and I saw the strangest sight. There were about three or four guys sitting at a table outside the rest stop building, smoking and chatting. Nothing strange about that, I know, but they all had thick beards, those curly locks in front of their ears, and all of them had tassels or tzitzit hanging under their shirts. I immediately pegged them as Hasidim, but there was something incongruous about them: they were all wearing brightly colored baseball caps and smoking.
Now, I’m not Jewish, so if I offend any of you with my ignorance, please forgive me. But my only exposure to Hasidim have been at banks and on the subway in New York. And usually they’re dressed in black and white, no colors at all, so the baseball caps were throwing me for a loop. And since I’ve never seen a Hasid outside a non-smoking area, I have never seen them smoke. I suppose my feeble mind thought their strict religious practices would prohibit smoking, since it’s bad for you. So the first thought that came to my mind was, “Hey, these are hoodlums. They’re sitting outside wearing colors and smoking! Those are some real bad boy Hasidim!”
Anyway, the thought gave me the giggles. Hoodlum Hasidim are taking over the rest stops on the PA Turnpike. Guard your daughters and lock up your dogs. There’s Trouble with a capital T that rhymes with P that stands for Pareve.
Filed under Bizarre, Ren Faire, Vacation, Wedding | Comment (1)