WA Post Neologism Contest

It makes it around the socialsphere, so you may have seen it…I mean, not “neologisms” but still, stinkin’ funny. I can’t resist sharing.

  • COFFEE (n.): the person upon whom one coughs.
  • FLABBERGASTED (adj.): appalled over how much weight you have gained.
  • ABDICATE (v.): to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
  • ESPLANADE (v.): to attempt an explanation while drunk. 
  • WILLY-NILLY (adj.): impotent.
  • NEGLIGENT (adj.): a condition in which you absentmindedly answer the door in a nightie.
  • LYMPH (v.): to walk with a lisp.
  • GARGOYLE (n.): gross olive-flavored mouthwash.
  • FLATULENCE (n.): emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller.
  • BALDERDASH (n.): a rapidly receding hairline.
  • RECTITUDE (n.): the formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.
  • POKEMON (n.): a Rastafarian proctologist.
  • CIRCUMVENT (n.): an opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.
  • FRISBEETARIANISM (n.): the belief that when you die, your soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there (thank you George Carlin and whomever else is credited with this actual neologism).

No, really. I’m thankful!

It’s cliche, I know, but, this being Thanksgiving, I want to acknowledge I’m grateful for…

…the dedication of parents. Because of my indifference to parenthood, having never had children, these people leave me in awe. Their drive to make sure their children thrive is amazing to me. I came to this realization only after both my parents were gone. My relative comfort throughout my entire life is solely due to my mother and father’s commitment to their children.

…the chance to pursue a career of my choosing. Though it’s come at a cost—relatively low salary, but most especially the loss of a personal life—I know if the Fairy Godmother of Go Back and Try Again dropped in, I would say, “Tell my younger self this: Just because you are true to yourself, it does not follow you will have everything for which you hope, or wish, or even deserve.”

…that I love art, in all its forms and genres. Design, skill, creativity, color, form, evolution, evocation, emotion. Even if I don’t understand it, or sometimes am unable to tolerate it, I simply can’t imagine life without it.

…a landscape. Natural, urban, human or surreal. There is not a one I do not find absolutely spectacular.

…a beach. If someone told me I had to name a sacred place, I would name a beach, be it a lakeside, riverside, stream or ocean. But, particularly, an ocean beach and sea air. It’s as close to  divinity as I think I will ever find.

…my willingness to find a solution whenever trouble rears its ugly head. Oh, sure, adversity has made me gunshy. I’m not a chance-taker as a result. I’ve hesitated and put my head in the sand many times. But, eventually I can’t stand it anymore and find a way out or onward.

…the friends I once had. They are long gone, for any number of reasons, but if they were not in my life at the time I knew them, I’m not sure I would have been able to manage.

…now that I’m middle aged, the medical establishment. Even for all its faults, I’m grateful for a place and a people who can tell me exactly what the hell this thing is on my arm!

…a midlife crisis that steered me directly into the world of writing, cooking and photography. Just when I thought my creative life would never be fully realized, I found these outlets. I’m not all that good, but that’s hardly the point. I love the process, the discovery, and whatever successes I can claim. Just look at my smile!

…a few trivial things: wine, to name one. A handsome face smiling at me, for no particular reason. Perfectly cooked Salmon or pork. A beautiful garden and a stroll through a park. A well done BBC TV series. Novels and movies that enthrall. Fascinating documentaries. That I’m no longer hung up with what I look like (I credit menopause). Whomever created dark chocolate. Weekend mornings, anywhere, any season, rain or shine. Road trips. Unexpected chances (so exciting!) All the folks who came up with modern conveniences, as well as those who subsequently outlined how those conveniences are not actually beneficial, but the potential death of us all. Except kitty litter. Those of us with an indoor cat that is afflicted with a delicate digestive system knows that stuff is literally magic in a box.

Tonight’s Characters

#1: He’s 80, reading the newspaper while making his way slowly through a slice of key lime pie and an Irish Coffee. The waitress swoops by with ” ‘nother one for ya?” and grabs the almost empty coffee. He snatches it back. “Yes, but let me…” He swallows the final gulp, then thrusts the mug into her stomach. When she comes back with his 2nd drink, he places a gentle hand on her arm and apologizes. She shrugs it off.
The bill arrives. He pays with a card, but makes a point of leaving her a 20-dollar bill. He places the bill carefully, intentionally, neatly in the middle of the table, fussing with how level and even it appears. When he leaves, he stops her and points to the table. “For you.”

#2: Forty-something bartender. Tall and lean. Thick glasses and soft spoken. Always friendly, of course, but shy and serious. One time I ordered a chocolate martini from him  and he beamed. Probably one of the worst concoctions I’ve ever had, but I smiled when he asked if I liked it. “That was fun!” he said.  “Nobody orders drinks like that, ever! Want another?” I shake my head. “I’m good.”

#3: “I’m 61 and retiring in 4 years!” It was something she was always quick to say. Short and very, very round. When I say short, I mean not technically a dwarf, but unquestionably short. So is her hair. She proudly sports a Dennis the Menace tuft. “I tell the barber, it’s not short enough if it isn’t standing up!”
Happy and energetic, but something about  her puts you on guard.
“I hate beans,” she says giving a mock shudder and vomit. “Hate! Any of ’em. All of ’em!” with another mock shudder and vomit. You get the feeling you’re supposed to ask why, but something tells to you keep quiet and not engage. She continues to shake her head and pantomime she’s been made to sniff a turd.
Over time, you come to realize there is something not quite right about her, so you distance yourself. Eventually, you mention this to your manager, who surprises you when she says, “Good idea.”
It’s been a couple of weeks since she was fired. People were surprised she lasted as long as she did (10 months). Turns out she fucked up a lot, in many different ways. But always with a smile.
Anway, she was at our workplace tonight, happy as you please, as if showing up at the workplace that summarily dismissed her with cause (and a long list of causes, at that) ain’t no big thing. “Bet you’re surprised to see me!” she says. I laugh, awkwardly, and walk away.
I get it. It’s a big Fuck You. But she didn’t come in the building with guns ablazing. So, you keep just being you, Terri. You just keep being you.

Thinking of April’s wonderful character studies!


TBP fathers dayNow that I’m back to blogging, I think I will prompt ALL THREE of my followers to post something fun, based on a prompt.


Your story/photo starts with: “You came home” and ends with “low tide under a crescent moon.”

What?…Stop! Oh, Well. Here I Am. Again.

Uh..? I just opened a setup wizard, and…

Um…holy crap…what is…


(delete, delete, delete… STOP IT!…)

OK…Well, I guess I set up a blog. Not my first, but before I know what’s what, there’s a picture (I didn’t take), and a greeting (I didn’t write), and POOF! A full-fledged post!


Well, Hello! How do you do?

Actually, hold that thought, for, like, the next few days. I have to figure out what I am actually I’m going to do with this!

Oh, but, I can declare this much: I love to write fiction. And, nonfiction. I observe and, so, I write. Or take a photo. And, I like to share my observations and writing. So, I blog.