Saturday, July 14, 2012
The interwebs had me confused at the blog title. I'm trying to do a post that captures the last few days/weeks since I last wrote (because really, time has no meaning at the moment...it could be Tuesday, or May, or 7).
I spelled minutiae as I did above. And then thought that maybe I was adding an inappropriate silent "e". And we all know I would never be inappropriate. So I looked it up.
Of the Google results that ensued, it became clear that no one out there really knew either. One source had minutiae as the various parts that make up fingerprints, and minutia as the correct spelling. Other sources used them interchangeably.
You're getting the silent "e" spelling because, well, it looks way more fancy. And I'm all about the fancy...I'm writing this while wearing a tiara and heels. Plus, with that many options and my resulting need to explain to you, we're now four paragraphs in on minutiae/minutia and I haven't even gotten to the stuff I'd planned!
Planned you say? Lists you say? Yes! I made lists. As I've mentioned before, I often come up with ideas for blog posts at inconvenient-to-write-them times. Like 3 am. Or when I'm driving. Or basically anytime that I'm not near a computer. Or paper. Etc.
I have a composition book. Which, by the way, seem to be everywhere here in the US but I can't recall them being any kind of anything in Canada. Being the connoisseur* of stationery products that I am, I have embraced it wholehandedly.
*ZOMG I actually pulled the correct spelling of that word out of my head first try!
Actually I have several composition books, littered around my universe. And I've been furiously jotting down notes in them all. Tonight, as I sit down to share my unique take on the world with y'all, I grabbed the one from my bed side, confident that I'd find something in there that would engage, amuse, and delight my audience (all four of you are still out there, right?).
Here's what I found.
Page 1: A list of the items that can be made using tiki mojo in Island Paradise, a game now defunct on Facebook.
Page 2: Blog ideas. Yay! Um, okay of the 10 on the page, 5 are from last week, so I still understand what they are. The other 5 items I can't even read. Of the 5 I can read, 4 are minor rants that won't even take a paragraph. Fail. I am amused that one of the newer ideas is about writing longhand...since apparently I can't even read jotted notes, I'm thinking this is not one of my better ideas.
Page 3: Ah yes, one of the many pages dedicated to trying to wrap my head around the novel characters, pre-storyboard. Which I've bought but haven't actually used yet.
Page 4: More novel character/storyline. I can read it, but I have no idea what it means. Or if I did write it, or should write it. Hmmm. (At which point I realize that I'm slacking on that, especially if I'm going to get geared up for the November writeathon.)
Page 5: A list of things I need to do around the house. Including such fascinations as ironing, laundry, and organizing my beads. I've had clean undies so at least the laundry got done.
Page 6: Blog ideas. This time I can read them all and may even be able to write something on it. I am amused that I actually wrote "bitches!" as part of the note on one of them.
The rest of the book is blank. Now I'm pondering how many other notebooks of this stunning quality I have out there.
Ignoring the epic fail of blog ideas from the comp book, I will now give you the best "facepalm" moment from last week...and there were many.
We were at the dealership with our truck (this is apparently the summer of "check engine" lights) when an older lady drove her car into the bay beside where we were checking in. And asked if she could have the airbags disabled. Naturally, the service people declined as disabling safety devices is not usually in their best interests liability-wise, plus they might feel bad if they did that and someone died. The woman was very upset, because, you see, her husband was going to be having open heart surgery and if the airbag went off it could be very damaging to his healing wound.
I later asked Mr. Eggshells if the service people had suggested her husband sit in the back seat while convalescing. He looked at me, amused that I'd missed that part of the conversation. He was going to be the one DRIVING.