Wrestling With My Better Grammar Angels

Being a writer with a day job as an editor is a recipe for madness, because, inevitably, the little quirks of everyday language that most people would never, ever notice stand out like a garishly lit billboard in Times Square. I get a tad irked when "which" is used without being preceded by a comma as is grammatically correct in 99% of its usage. I'm irritated when sentences end in prepositions like "with" to the point that I've spent upwards of 10 to 15 minutes rewriting a sentence to try and avoid it only to (usually) fail. And the whole who/whom thing bugs me from time to time even though 9 times out of 10, I'm getting it wrong myself. Like any good editor, the urge to correct such errors is nigh irresistible.

It's tough because so much of our spoken language is grammatically incorrect and that's before we start looping in slang and urban and regional dialects. These days, there's almost a negative connotation to it and if you insist on proper grammar use in everyday conversation, you'll quickly get tagged as an elitist snob or something of that ilk. I wonder when it became a bad thing to insist on the "King's" English, so to speak. Probably about the time we picked up muskets and pointed them across the pond.

I was buying cat food the other day – or cat fud as I tend to write it on my shopping list thanks to an old Boynton cartoon. Yes, I make a list. I'm not completely undomesticated. At the checkout counter, one of those paw shaped magnets caught my eye. "Who Rescued Who?" it asks. Charmed, I bought it for the CR-V. It wasn't until a few days later when I was loading groceries that I looked at it, smiled as I always do, and then thought, "Shouldn't it be Who Rescued Whom?"

Well that was that. Seriously, people, it would not leave me alone. Finally, I caved and asked my boss to weigh in. No kidding, we spent ten minutes debating it on the phone and she even suggested I look it up in our AMA style guide. I managed to restrain myself from that level of craziness, but it was a near thing. And I only managed to do that because I decided the magnet was wrong. It should definitely be "Who Rescued Whom?" and that's all I have to say on the matter.

Except it taunts me. Each and every time I swing open the back gate to the CR-V, there it is, waving its irregular usage at me like discount shoes in the wrong size.

To put the cheeky thing in its place, I'm on the hunt now for a magnetic "M" of sufficient size to tack onto its end. That'll teach it to mess with me.

This grammar stuff ain't for the weak, you know.

Word Play

I love it when I find new words. Not in a "oh look, she's learned to say 'cat'!" sort of way. But a novel, or article, or even a blog ticks up in points for me when I have to look up a new word it's used.

I started keeping track of new words in Oxford. This is a direct influence of my MJ who was, at the time, reading some of the best and most dense novels out there for her literature tutorials, like George Eliot's oeuvre and Salinger's The Lovers to name two that just popped out of my 15-year-old memory file marked "Oxford". During my semi-annual cleaning fits, I always find scraps of paper with words scribbled willy nillly on them. I once tried to make an alphabetical list complete with definitions by keeping a spiral bond book of index cards nearby to jot down new discoveries. That didn't last long.

Now, I follow the RSS feed for Webster's dictionary, and yesterday's word was lapidary, "of or pertaining to the art of cutting stones or engraving on them." Also, "of or pertaining to the refined or terse style associated with inscriptions on monumental stone," and, as a noun, "one who cuts, polishes, and engraves precious stones."

Yeah, that one's working it's way into the WIP. I do love me a good 5-point word.

Resolutionless

I don't make New Year resolutions. To me, it's just another way of listing things that will never get done. I'm perverse enough that making a list almost assures the failure of achieving anything on the list simply because there is a list.

Get that?

I also don't set "goals" as a pansy-assed way of avoiding the word "resolution". Do it or don't do it, but don't wimp out on the terminology. I have some things in mind that I would like to see happen in 2009, but I won't handicap their chances by sticking them on some sort of list. Look, it works for some people. I'm not some people.

Basically, making it to the next year fully intact is challenging enough of a resolution for me. I think of my friend Jane's resolutions and realize that this mind-set of mine is far from positive, but it's nearly 7 pm on my last night of a disappointing vacation, so I'm going to just wallow in my mediocrity for a moment and resolve to be more positive tomorrow. Don't defriend me yet, Jane.

Ugh, I said it.

I guess, if anything, I can resolve to be more me in 2009. "Is't possible?" you may ask. One shudders to think. But I valiantly resolve to be more of a survivor, more of a good time - not that way, you pervs! (okay, maybe a little) - more committed to the things that matter to me, and less negative about those things I can't control even though they are few and far between (kidding! sort of). I promise to be more snarky, use bigger words (if I can find them), and radically obliterate preconceptions and limitations relating to my size, my income, my brain, my faith, or my hair color (though I'm not a blond, so half the battle there is already won). A good enough start to any year.

How do you like me so far?