All my life I have used phrases like, "For crying out loud," "for crying in a bucket," "for crying in the night," and so on.
A few weeks ago, during a particularly frustrating moment (that may or may not have been related to the belly-button fiasco) I found myself loudly exclaiming, "For crying in the NIGHT!!"
Then, with my mind working the way it does, I started wondering, "Why on earth do I use that phrase? What does it even mean?" And just like that a shiny new train of thought pulled into the station, I climbed aboard and we were off!!
As we whizzed past the "Rat's A**" station from several posts ago, my mind started taking in the scenery of all the odd sayings that I have used and that I've heard used, and the ones that people use incorrectly that bother me so greatly.
Now this entire journey lasted only about a minute, and I am the only passenger on this particular train that could possibly register all the stops we flew past, so I thought I would try to point them out for the other sight-seers who aren't capable of processing my thought process (i.e. everyone else in the world.)
I have heard and used "For crying in the night" all my life. It is generally accepted as an exclamation of frustration, but really, why is it used? Is it something that is a punishable offense? It sounds like it should be, "For crying in the night... you are sentenced to blah-blah-blah."
I remember watching an old Hayley Mills movie, I believe it was "The Moon-Spinners" and there was a kid in that movie who always said, "For crying in a bucket!" And I have found myself saying that from time to time. Of course now I had to stop and really examine it. Does anyone actually ever cry so hard, or produce enough tears that it would necessitate a bucket?
Then I saw the station labeled "I could care less." This is one that aggravates me. If I said to someone "I could care less," that would imply that there was a level of caring involved so it is possible to care less about that person/place/or thing. When people say, "I could care less" it is meant to be a biting remark, implying that they really couldn't care less. So why don't they just say it correctly???
Next I saw "Irregardless" go past my window and that one is another point of contention with me. It is not like "Flammable/Inflammable" which virtually mean the same thing. Regardless means without regard. Irregardless is a double negative which would mean that it is with regard. It's the whole "I could care less" thing all over again.
Now I don't know why these words and phrases bother me so greatly, but they bother me more than when someone uses the completely wrong word, or makes up a new word by combining other words to fit their purpose.
I know that, in the immortal words of the the unnamed rescuer in Top Gun, I've "Got to let go," and I'm working on it. I really am, but for the time being, sadly I really could care less.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Where McGyver meets McGruber
A few weeks ago our church youth group went on its annual Full Circle Winter Camp. I think that I get just about as excited for this camp as the kids do. For one, my youth group didn't have camps, so the novelty of camp hasn't worn off for me, and secondly, I just love spending that time with the kids.
We separated into 5 cabins, and our cabin of 5 girls and 3 leaders was packed full. We had our set "Lights out" time that as leaders, we were supposed to enforce. The second night (last night) of camp is always a more emotional night, and we fudge the lights out time a little because our kids are a little more wound up and take a little longer to settle in.
So Saturday night we had everyone settled into their beds playing a game of "Truth or Truth" (This is church camp after all) and we were down to the last few who were still awake enough to play when I, the oldest of everyone there and supposedly a responsible leader, discovered to my horror that the ball-top of my belly-button ring had come off.
It was 1:30 am at this point, and half the cabin was asleep when I said aloud, "Oh NO!" I immediately began searching through my sleeping bag, and checking my pajamas, doing all of this by the light of my iPod screen, because it was well after lights out time. Finally, I had no choice but to get up and turn the lights on and start searching in earnest. Now I should point out that if you have a belly button ring, and it comes out, the piercing will start to heal VERY quickly. So I was doing my searching one-handed while I held onto the barbell to keep it in place. I looked high and low, but to no avail. At this point my McGyver instinct kicked in. I was desperate to keep that ring in place because I did not want to face the possibility of having to let it heal and get it redone and wait through the healing process AGAIN. So I started searching for anything that I could use as a temporary cap. I thought of a pencil eraser (which I had used with some success as an earring back in high school earring emergencies,) but I could not find a pencil anywhere.
I was about to pull a Laffy Taffy out of the candy bag when my eyes fell upon an earplug. An orange foam earplug. An earplug that was most assuredly used, and lying on the floor, the painted plywood, dirty gross cabin floor. A light bulb went off in my head and I pounced on that earplug and ran into the bathroom where I completely coated it in anti-bacterial soap and gave it a good scrubbing. After drying it with a paper towel, I got to work. After a couple of attempts, I managed to firmly secure the earplug so that the threads of the barbell stud were sticking out the other side.
Satisfied that this would hold, at least until morning, I turned the lights out and let everyone go back to sleep. (Aren't I such a good leader?)
I woke up the next morning and found that my temporary cap was still in place. I made my way through the morning, checking it often, and decided then and there that from now on my packing list would ALWAYS include extra rings and caps. That is Lesson number one!
Camp ended, and I packed up my car and drove home, arriving home about 1:00 in the afternoon and was going to go straight up to my jewelry box and get a new ring and remove the orange earplug-stopper. However, my husband was still not awake and I didn't wish to wake him early since he had to work that night, so I patiently waited.
As soon as he woke up, I ran upstairs and grabbed a new ring and went in to change it out. Here comes lesson number 2, and even though I had learned this one the HARD way 10 years ago, I had forgotten it. Lesson 2 is always, ALWAYS, plug the sink before changing a belly-button ring. I had sterilized and put in a new ring, when to my horror, the silver ball-top slipped out of my soapy fingers and went straight down the drain.
Cursing, I went back to the jewelry box, again, and got yet another topper. I managed to get this one attached, and then I set to work emptying out the cabinet under my sink so that I could remove the trap. I plugged Matt's sink and then dumped the trap contents into that one. To my dismay, the ball was not among the water and other assorted debris that had collected in the trap. So I went back to my sink and started shaking the stopper until I heard the tell-tale plink of something hitting the bottom of the cupboard. I reached down and grabbed it, dropped it into the waiting dixie cup full of anti-bacterial soapy water, and then went back to work re-assembling my sink.
Its been a few weeks now, and the frustration of the whole thing has faded and left me with just plain old amusement at my plight. I often wonder, am I the only one who does stuff like this? Or just the only one dumb enough to admit it to others?
We separated into 5 cabins, and our cabin of 5 girls and 3 leaders was packed full. We had our set "Lights out" time that as leaders, we were supposed to enforce. The second night (last night) of camp is always a more emotional night, and we fudge the lights out time a little because our kids are a little more wound up and take a little longer to settle in.
So Saturday night we had everyone settled into their beds playing a game of "Truth or Truth" (This is church camp after all) and we were down to the last few who were still awake enough to play when I, the oldest of everyone there and supposedly a responsible leader, discovered to my horror that the ball-top of my belly-button ring had come off.
It was 1:30 am at this point, and half the cabin was asleep when I said aloud, "Oh NO!" I immediately began searching through my sleeping bag, and checking my pajamas, doing all of this by the light of my iPod screen, because it was well after lights out time. Finally, I had no choice but to get up and turn the lights on and start searching in earnest. Now I should point out that if you have a belly button ring, and it comes out, the piercing will start to heal VERY quickly. So I was doing my searching one-handed while I held onto the barbell to keep it in place. I looked high and low, but to no avail. At this point my McGyver instinct kicked in. I was desperate to keep that ring in place because I did not want to face the possibility of having to let it heal and get it redone and wait through the healing process AGAIN. So I started searching for anything that I could use as a temporary cap. I thought of a pencil eraser (which I had used with some success as an earring back in high school earring emergencies,) but I could not find a pencil anywhere.
I was about to pull a Laffy Taffy out of the candy bag when my eyes fell upon an earplug. An orange foam earplug. An earplug that was most assuredly used, and lying on the floor, the painted plywood, dirty gross cabin floor. A light bulb went off in my head and I pounced on that earplug and ran into the bathroom where I completely coated it in anti-bacterial soap and gave it a good scrubbing. After drying it with a paper towel, I got to work. After a couple of attempts, I managed to firmly secure the earplug so that the threads of the barbell stud were sticking out the other side.
Satisfied that this would hold, at least until morning, I turned the lights out and let everyone go back to sleep. (Aren't I such a good leader?)
I woke up the next morning and found that my temporary cap was still in place. I made my way through the morning, checking it often, and decided then and there that from now on my packing list would ALWAYS include extra rings and caps. That is Lesson number one!
Camp ended, and I packed up my car and drove home, arriving home about 1:00 in the afternoon and was going to go straight up to my jewelry box and get a new ring and remove the orange earplug-stopper. However, my husband was still not awake and I didn't wish to wake him early since he had to work that night, so I patiently waited.
As soon as he woke up, I ran upstairs and grabbed a new ring and went in to change it out. Here comes lesson number 2, and even though I had learned this one the HARD way 10 years ago, I had forgotten it. Lesson 2 is always, ALWAYS, plug the sink before changing a belly-button ring. I had sterilized and put in a new ring, when to my horror, the silver ball-top slipped out of my soapy fingers and went straight down the drain.
Cursing, I went back to the jewelry box, again, and got yet another topper. I managed to get this one attached, and then I set to work emptying out the cabinet under my sink so that I could remove the trap. I plugged Matt's sink and then dumped the trap contents into that one. To my dismay, the ball was not among the water and other assorted debris that had collected in the trap. So I went back to my sink and started shaking the stopper until I heard the tell-tale plink of something hitting the bottom of the cupboard. I reached down and grabbed it, dropped it into the waiting dixie cup full of anti-bacterial soapy water, and then went back to work re-assembling my sink.
Its been a few weeks now, and the frustration of the whole thing has faded and left me with just plain old amusement at my plight. I often wonder, am I the only one who does stuff like this? Or just the only one dumb enough to admit it to others?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)