SAVE ME!

My home computer died last night. (I’m writing from work.) Died. As in deceased. Ceased to be. Shrugged off this mortal coil and joined the choir invisible. If it wasn’t sitting on my desk it would be pushing up daisies.

You get the idea.

I am expecting edit files for The Way of Four Spellbook tonight, via email. I am supposed to work on them over the weekend. And no computer.

Maybe it’s just very sick. I’ll take it into the shop tonight. While having, y’know, dry heaves.

(So no Friday kitten blogging, because the photos are on the home computer.)

More more more fun with language

So I was poking around yesterday and I discovered…language blogs.

I discovered them here. And here. And here.

Some of them are very nerdy and intellectual. Some of them are pretty much dissertations 300 words at a time. But many of them are The Big Fun. It makes me all warm and cuddly inside. Arthur is going to lose his shit when he sees these links.

So sometime in the next few days I’ll finish compiling my favorites and add a new set of links to the sidebar.

UPDATE: Okay, look to the right for Language Blogs.

More fun with language

Your Linguistic Profile:

45% General American English
40% Yankee
15% Dixie
0% Midwestern
0% Upper Midwestern

Felonius Felines

I understand that dangling strings are fun. I understand that. And I understand that seat cushions are comfy and cozy and downright irresistable. Yes. But where did the seat cushion go?

You see, the rocking chair has a cushion that ties on, and the Gang of Two do dearly love those dangling ties. That was cute, and cute, too, was the sight of them curled up on the cushion together. Then they got the ties untied—ah! clever kitties!—and the sight of the Gang of Two curled up together on the seat cushion, now under the rocker, was also, yes, cute.

So where did the seat cushion go? It’s…gone. It’s not on the chair. It’s not under the chair. It’s not visible from the chair.

I am confused.

UPDATE: It was under the bed. They dragged it four feet. I am no longer confused. I am now impressed.

Apotropaic

I just learned a new word! Apotropaic.

Intended to ward off evil: an apotropaic symbol.

You see, I was just given a Hand of Fatima as a gift, and the explanatory material enclosed described it as an apotropaic amulet.

So. Pretty gift. New word. What more can a girl want?

Frickin Gorram Dial-up

My hand to God, I wrote a really nice post last night, just for you, just to edify my panting public, clicked Publish, and…ffffffffffft.

No connection. Post lost. Author slaps self in head.

Expertise & Pixelation

With certain fonts, if you select a very small size (say 6 points) the lower case c is indistinguishable from the lower case e.* If you think of a bitmap as a simple grid, with every box either white or black, each lower case letter, at that size, is confined to a 3×3 box. There’s no room for the crosspiece in the middle.

The interesting thing about this Is that your eye fills it in. You can read the word “face??? just fine, and your eye fills in the distinction between the c and the e. Only an expert; someone who has zoomed in 800% and diddled around at the pixel level, knows the difference.

» Read more..

Ouchy Throaty

Okay, I’m freaking out here. I’m feeling much, much better; I can eat, I can sleep (as much as I do), and yesterday I finished my antibiotics. So why all of a sudden today does my throat have small pointy knives in it? (As opposed to non-pointy knives? Okay, just go with it.) Ouchy. And, having finished the z-pac (fucking-a Cadillac of antibiotics), why am I experiencing this NOW?

Oh, woe is me. Fear and woe. Stress, fear, paranoia, hypochondria, and woe. And ouchy.

Great Fight Club Deconstruction

Since we’re doing movies lately, take a look at Elyce Elucidates’s post on Fight Club. I drop two cents into the comments.

Navigate and Negotiate

Last night, Arthur and I were discussing teen life with someone (Ann), and we got into a thing about the difference between navigate and negotiate.

Ann said Arthur negotiated a situation, and Arthur said he didn’t because it was non-verbal, it was more like he navigated it. And I said negotiate can be non-verbal, like negotiating a curve, and maybe the difference was that navigation was a planned route, whereas negotiation was just getting through. In which case Arthur had negotiated.

So now this is interesting. Both navigate and negotiate have specific meanings, and metaphorical meanings. What is the difference?

» Read more..