livingdeb: (Default)
English is wacky.

I already knew we love to use loads of nouns (summer league frisbee, Barton Creek Square Mall, rubber baby buggy bumpers), but I just recently realized we even use them as prepositional phrases.

* plate - Can mean "with beans and rice" (such as "enchilada plate"); or it can imply two vegetable sides (such as "meatloaf plate").

* platter - Can mean "with additional sides" (such as "pancake platter").

(Note: This doesn't work with fruit. A fruit platter is bigger than a fruit plate, which is bigger than a fruit cup, but they are all just fruit, cut into bite-sized pieces. Whereas I think of a fruit bowl as being full of whole, uncut fruit.)

* basket - Can mean "with fries" (as in "corndog basket").

* meal deal (two nouns!) - Can mean "with fries and a soft drink."

* boat - Can mean both "still in the peel" and "with melted chocolate and marshmallows," but probably only in the phrase "banana boat."

(Tries to think of something else that would be good as a boat. Mango boat? Sweet potato boat?)
livingdeb: (Default)
In Spanish class we learned that the word for "sandwich" is "sándwich." Okay.

In DuoLingo, we learn that the word for "sandwich" is "emparedado." Interesting. "Pared" means "wall," "paredado" means "walled," and so "emparedado" means enwalled. In bread.

But DuoLingo also has a comments section. One guy commented that no one's ever heard of "emparedado," and a bunch of people offered up some interesting information.

In Spain, a sandwich on sliced bread is commonly called a "sándwich," but also "emparedado," which is considered old-fashioned. But the kind of sandwich that is made with a baguette is called "bocadillo." "Boca" means mouth, so this is a whole different way to think about this item. (However in Colombia, a "bocadillo" is a kind of dessert made of guava.)

In the US, I generally eat sandwiches made with sliced bread, but in Spain I had many, many bocadillos, and they were surprisingly good. Like with "French omelet" for a filling. In Belgium, my favorite sandwiches were on baguettes, even though tuna salad totally wants to squish out of them.

In Mexico, "sándwich" is similarly used for the sliced-bread type of sandwich, but a sandwich made with a bun or other round bread or as a sub is called a "torta."

"Torta" can mean a lot of things, including cake or a flatbread considered to be something you settle for when nothing better is available. The Native American flatbread was named tortilla, or little torta, by the Spaniards.

Googling shows me that the tortas sold around here tend to have a LOT of fillings in them. Like several meats plus several other things like maybe refried beans and/or avocado. And they can be "drunken" or doused in hot sauce.

Apparently Mexico also has a "layered" sandwich called a sandwichon. I was wondering what a layered sandwich might be exactly, so I went exploring and found Claudia Bolles' how to make a sandwichon. Wow. Let's just say it makes a lot more sense that "torta" can mean both "sandwich" and "cake." I giggled several times throughout this video. As an ignorant gringo, there were plenty of plot twists for me throughout, starting right from the beginning when you see that it takes three loaves of bread to make a sandwichon. I recommend this video. (One of the commenters to the video said, "They have something similar in Sweden called Smorgastorta." Sounds like multiculturalism to me!)

The word "sándwich" is also common in several other Spanish-speaking areas, but Argentina also has "sánguche" and Colombia has "sánduches."

English has a lot of words for sandwich, too, of course, especially all those words for sub/hoagie, etc. Not to mention wraps and a bunch of specific sandwiches like hamburgers, quesadillas, gyros, Reubens, etc. So, there's always more to learn, but I think I've gone down enough rabbit holes for one entry.

Ha ha, sandwichon! I'm still chuckling.

No, wait, one more rabbit hole: This collection of sandwichon pictures on pinterest. Amazing.
livingdeb: (Default)
One way to practice my Spanish is to look that things that are in both English and Spanish. But sometimes one version is not a direct translation of the other version. I recently found the most disparate versions I've ever seen! (Skip to the last three paragraphs if you are not also learning Spanish.)

Clases de Manejar DEFENSIVO
(DEFENSIVE Driving Classes)

vs.

Save on your insurance!
DEFENSIVE DRIVING

**

golden corral BUFFET

vs.

golden corral All YOU can eat BUFFET

**

Buffet Y Refrescas Incluido!
Divertidas Classes de Movimiento Rapido!
Le garantizamos que pasará!
[Yes, missing upside-down exclamation points and some, but not all, accent marks.]

Buffet and Soft Drinks Included!
Fun, fast-moving classes!
We guarantee you'll pass!

vs.

Our Promise
Get your ticket DISMISSED, keep it off your record!
We Guarantee You'll Pass!
Optional overnight & Rush Service

**

Estamos Aprovados Por El Estado
Para Borrar Infracciones
Y Proveer Descuentos Para El Seguro de Autos
También se puede tomar en línea! Llame para más información.

We Are Approved By The State
To Clear Infractions
And Provide Discounts For Auto Insurance
Can also be taken online! Call for more information.

vs.

Classroom or Internet Classes Available

**

24 horas info- [website]
Llamenos al [phone number]

24 hours info- [website]
Call us at [phone number]

vs.

For Class Information & Reservations:
[website] or
Call Now: [phone number]

So apparently only the Spanish speakers need to know that the classes are fun and fast-moving, that soft drinks are included, and that the internet is available 24 hours a day; only English speakers need to know that the buffet food is unlimited, that they can wait until the last minute for ticket dismissal, and that one can make reservations.

**

I originally picked this up because this is the first time I've ever heard of getting all you can eat during a defensive driving course. The first one I went to that included lunch limited you to two pieces of pizza, and all the ones since have also been a limited (though larger) amount. I looked it up, and it costs $35, just like all the "free lunch" classes near me. (This company offers classes only in the Dallas area.)

Also this was a reminder that although in my brain, when something is "guaranteed" it means there is a 100% chance that it will happen, in real life it only means that if it doesn't happen you get your money back or something.
livingdeb: (cartoon)
In DuoLingo, they often show you a sentence written out while also saying it and then ask you to provide a translation. I have started not looking at the sentence to practice figuring out what they are saying just by listening. (Which I stink at.) Then I check by looking at the sentence. And only then do I type out the requested translation.

Sometimes the sentence makes little or no sense, but if I check the grammar, it can help me out. For example, recently I heard what sounded like they were saying "You need your name" in Spanish, "Tu necesita su nombre." At first I thought that was an odd sentence. Then I realized that grammatically, it should be either "Tu necesitas tu nombre" or "Usted necesita su nombre," so I must have been hearing it wrong. In fact, they were saying "Tu necesitas un hombre," which means "You need a man."

However I still can't tell the difference between the queen (la reina) and the sand (la arena - the first and second a's blend together) except via context.

On Kenya

Nov. 23rd, 2016 04:03 pm
livingdeb: (cartoon)
In my continuing quest to experience media from every country, I picked up Michael Burgan's Kenya, another installment of the fabulous Enchantment of the World series (2015). FYI, I'm barely discussing any of the depressing stuff.

Kenya is about the size of Texas, and, like Texas, it has a coast in the east (the Indian Ocean), and some mountains and deserts. But it also has rain forests, waterfalls, and volcanos, and it borders the "world's largest permanent lake located in a desert," Lake Turkana, at the northern end of the Great Rift Valley, created by two tectonic plates moving away from each other. It also borders Lake Victoria as do Uganda and Tanzania.South Suday, Ethiopia, and Somalia are in the north. It's on the equator and so is warm (though cooler at the higher elevations--Mount Kenya sits right on the equator and has ice year-round).

The first humans lived in this part of Africa where Kenya is. Four thousand years ago, migrants speaking Cushitic languages raised goats and farmed. Later, people speaking Bantu and Nilotic languages arrived.

In the 400s, traders from all around the Indian Ocean and as far away as the Middle East and China came to trade and influenced the foods, language, and religion of Kenyans, leading to the Swahili language and culture in the 1000s. Swahilis joined in the trade and Swahili is still an official language and the coastal city Mombasa is still the second-largest city.

In 1498, Vasco Da Gama arrived from Portugal (Malindi still has a stone pillar he erected in friendship). In 1505, Portuguese invaders began looting and killing. By 1729, the Swahilis, with their Arabic allies, had pushed out the Portuguese.

In 1844, the first European missionary arrived and European explorers began mapping the interior. In 1884, the Europeans began dividing up Africa amongst themselves, and decided that the British got most of Kenya and Uganda. Theirs was no benign rule, making people work, kicking them off their land, killing resisters, and making men carry kipande or identity and employment documents with them at all times. They built a railway to help them transport things from Uganda to the coast. This is when the capital and largest city, Nairobi, was created, and English is still an official language.

Kenya gained independence in 1963, but there were conflicts between different ethnic groups. Corruption still runs rampant, and people don't trust the elections.

In 2010, a new constitution and bill of rights were introduced. Unlike the US's bill of rights, Kenya's "also guarantees such things as access to food, housing, and water."

About 3/4 of Kenyans work in agriculture, usually on small plots of land, but there are also large coffee and tea plantations for export. Fishing is also important, mining is growing, and petroleum was discovered in northern Kenya in 2012. They also make "cars, plastic goods, clothing, chemicals and medicines, paper and paper products, and electrical equipment" mostly for domestic use. Sandals made from old tires "last about ten times longer than traditional shoes." And the "largest part of Kenya's economy is the service sector ... [including] banking, education, health care," and sales.

Kenya has the strongest economy in East Africa. Tourism is now a big part of the economy and large parts of the country are preserved as national parks. That includes Mount Kenya and a stretch of coral reefs along the coast. Kenya has all of 'Africa's "Big Five"--the five land mammals said to be the hardest to kill"--the elephant, cape buffalo, rhinoceros, leopard, and lion. In 1977, Kenya banned hunting of all creatures except some birds. So now safaris are just for pictures. In the desert, they have camels, used mostly for milk rather than carrying things.

Internet usage is growing (39% in 2013). "Safaricom, the nation's leading cell service provider, is one of the nation's most successful businesses." And "M-Pesa, the world's leading mobile money system, is used by two-thirds of the adults in Kenya" to deposit paychecks, withdraw cash, pay rent, buy groceries, and transfer money to anyone with an M-Pesa account.

"All together, Kenyans speak about sixty different languages, and most people speak at least three." There are still many different ethnic groups such as the Kikuyu (1/4 of the population) from around Mt. Kenya, the Luhya (near Lake Victoria and Mt. Elgon), the Luo (also near Lake Victoria), the Kalenjin (western Rift Valley), Maasai (grasslands of southern Kenya), the related Samburu (plains north of Mt. Kenya), and the El Molo (the smallest group with less than 1000 members). Only 1% are of non-African descent. "After 1963, most of the whites gradually left the country." Refugees from Somalia and Sudan are settling in refugee camps and Nairobi.

From Swahili:
* hakuna matata = no problem
* simba = lion
* uhuru = freedom
* Kwanzaa is 'from the phrase matunda ya kwanza, which means "first fruits."'

Most Kenyans are Christian (47% Prostestant, 23% Roman Catholic), some (11%) are Muslim. Most Christians were converted by other Africans. "This gave Africans a lot of power in shaping how Christianity was adopted locally. It also led to the creation of many local churches that mixed traditional African beliefs with mainstream Christian faiths."

The literacy rate is 87%! Like every country but the US, they like soccer. They are also famous for having fast runners.
livingdeb: (cartoon)
I think compound verbs are fun. Why, yes, I did enjoy studying German (where the word for glove is handschuh = hand-shoe), except when trying to read sociology articles (yikes, those were some very long words).

Spanish has some compound words, too. Many follow the pattern of combining the third-person singular of a verb with the plural of a noun. For example, cortalápices, the word for pencil sharpener, literally means "it sharpens pencils."

These words are generally masculine, even if the nouns they include are feminine (which I learned from About.com's Colorful Combinations, which also has a list of common and interesting compound words that follow this pattern). And the singular and plural forms are the same.

Here are some words from our book that follow this pattern:
* el cumpleaños = the birthday (lit. it fulfills years)
* el lavaplatos = the dishwasher (it washes dishes)
* el parabrisas = the windshield (it stops breezes; I always thought this was from "para" = for, not from "parar" = to stop)
* el paraguas = the umbrella (it stops water--it lost an "a" in there)
* el tocadiscos = the record player (it plays records)

Other useful ones:
* el abrelatas = the can opener
* el cascanueces = the nutcracker
* el cortacuitos = the circuit breaker
* el cuentakilómetros = the speedometer, odometer (it counts kilometers)
* el cuentapasos = the pedometer (it counts steps)
* el cuidaniños = the babysitter (he/she cares for children)
* el escurreplatos = the dish rack (it drains dishes)
* el guardarropas = the clothes closet (it keeps clothing; extra r for extra fun)
* el limpiaparabrisas = the windshield wiper (it cleans windshields; it cleans that which stops breezes)
* el matafuegos = the fire extinguisher (it kills fires)
* el matamoscas = the fly swatter (it kills flies)
* el matarratas = the rat poison (it kills rats)
* el matasellos = the postmark (it kills stamps, though we learned stamp as la estampilla)
* el pagaimpuestos = the taxpayer
* el parachoques = the bumper (it stops crashes)

Other fun ones from that list that I really like:
* el calientalibros = the bookworm (he/she warms books) (though SpanishDict says it's el ratón de biblioteca)
* el paracaídas = the parachute (it stops falls)
* el rompecabezas = the puzzle (it breaks heads)

This DuoLingo comment lists many kinds of compound words. Here are more from our book (and my guess at what the component words are):
* anteayer = the day before yesterday (ante = before, ayer = yesterday)
* la autopista = the highway (el auto = the car, la pista = the path)
* el baloncesto = the basketball (el balón = ball--though we learned la pelota, el cesto = basket)
* bienestar = well-being (bien = well, estar = to be)
* bienvenido = welcome (venido = come)
* el crucigrama = the crossword puzzle (cruzar = to cross, I don't understand the other half)
* la entrevista = the interview (entre = between, la vista = the view--that makes about as much sense as the English version)
* el girasol = the sunflower (girar = to turn, sol = sun; I thought all plants turned toward the sun, but English is similar)
* la medianoche = the midnight (I don't find that medio/a means mid, but it can mean median, noche = night)
* el mediodía = the noon (I always assumed this meant midday)
* la motocicleta = the motorcycle, motorbike (el motor = the motor, el ciclo = the cycle)
* nosotros, nosotras = we (nos = us, otros/otras = others)
* el pasaporte = the passport (pasar = to pass; I don't understand the other part)
* el pasatiempo = the hobby (pasar = to pass, tiempo = time)
* pelirrojo/a = red-haired (pelo = hair, rojo/a = red; wow, what happened to the spelling?)
* el terremoto = the earthquake (la tierra = land, earth; motor = motor; this looks like a pretty big spelling change, too)
* vosotros, vosotras = y'all (vos = you, thou; otros/as = others)

Spanish with Judith also has a nice list of Compound Words.
livingdeb: (cartoon)
We had a section in our text about Spanish names, but it's described very well and somewhat amusingly in a few paragraphs in James Michener's Iberia so I'll give you that quote below. (I'm adding more paragraph breaks to make it easier to read.)

A word about Spanish names. To explain the tradition fully would require many pages, for it is unbelievably complicated, but ideally every Spaniard, male or female, has two surnames [last names], the first and more important being the father's and the second the mother's. Thus Pedro Pérez Montilla can properly be referred to as Señor Pérez Montilla or simply as Señor Pérez, but to refer to him as Señor Montilla would be a real gaffe.

Spanish also has the handy little words Don and Doña, which have no equivalent in English and cannot be translated; they are used only preceding a given name [first name], allowing one to refer to a man or woman by the given name with no presumption of intimacy. Thus our friend can be called Don Pedro or Señor Don Pedro Pérez Montilla.

When he [our friend] married, let us say to Leocadia Blanco Alvarez, his wife did not surrender her surnames but merely added his, preceded by the preposition de (of), so that her name became Señora Leocadia Blanco Alvarez de Pérez Montilla, and she may properly be addressed as Doña Leocadia, or as Señora Blanco, or as Señora Blanco Alvarez, or as Señora Blanco Alvarez de Pérez Montilla, or as Señora de Pérez Montilla.

Frequently the paternal and maternal surnames are joined by either a hyphen or an y (and), which means that Don Pedro’s son could be named Antonio Pérez Blanco, or Antonio Pérez-Blanco, or Antonio Pérez y Blanco, although in recent years the last has become less frequent.

Many Spaniards today, in common usage, simply omit the maternal surname entirely or abbreviate it to a single letter. On the other hand, if Don Pedro and Doña Leocadia belong to the nobility or the aristocracy (or if they want to put on airs) the son will adopt the name Señor Don Antonio Pérez Montilla y Blanco Alvarez.

The problem is further complicated when a man has a family name which is unusually common and a maternal name which is less so, for then he becomes known by the more distinctive of his two names, which is only sensible. The five most common Spanish surnames, in order of frequency, are García, Fernández, López, González and Rodríguez, and just as the Englishman named Smith or Jones is accustomed to adding a hyphenated second name, such as Smith-Robertson, so the Spaniard becomes García Montilla, sometimes with the hyphen.

It is in conformity with this custom that the great Spanish poet Federico García Lorca is so often referred to simply by his maternal name. Anglo-Saxon readers encounter difficulties with the names of such historical figures as Spain’s two cardinals who exercised political leadership, Mendoza and Cisneros; in history books you will find many pages about them, and they were at least as famous as Richelieu in France and Wolsey in England, yet if you try to look them up in a Spanish encyclopedia you will find nothing unless you happen to know that the former was born Pedro González de Mendoza and the latter Gonzalo Jiménez de Cisneros. In each of these instances, however, the distinctive name is not maternal but merely a place name added in hopes of making a common name distinctive.

So far I have discussed only the simple cases; the complicated ones I had better skip.

In a small Spanish city to which a friend had sent me a postal money order I had a rueful introduction to this problem of names. My friend had assured me by phone that the money had been sent, and the post office had advised me that it had arrived and that upon presentation of my passport it would be paid. Accordingly, I went to the post office, but before telling the clerk my name, handed him my passport. He studied it, consulted his file of incoming money orders and said, ’Nothing here.’ I explained that I knew it was in hand, so with much politeness he searched his papers again and said, ’Nothing here.’ This time I noticed that he was looking at the A file, so I suggested, ’Perhaps if you look in the ...’

'Please, Señor Albert,’ he said. ’I know my business.’

In my passport he had seen that my name was James Albert Michener and he was smart enough to know from that who I was, and he had no cash for any Señor Albert. When I tried to explain what my name really was he became angry, and I was not able to get my money until Spanish friends came from the hotel to the post office and explained who I was. When the money was paid, the clerk took my passport again, studied my name and shook his head. When he handed back my papers he said, ’I am sorry for your inconvenience, Señor Albert.’


--Michener, James A. Iberia: Spanish Travels and Reflections. (1968) Random House: New York, pp. 41-42.

Our text describes many countries rather than just Spain and was published in 2012. It says the the double-surname tradition is practiced in many, but not all, Latin-American countries. The way this is described does not perfectly match what Michener wrote.

For example, "When a woman marries in a country where two last names are used, legally she retains her two maiden surnames. However, socially she may take her husband's paternal surname in place of her inherited maternal surname. For example, Mercedes Barcha Pardo, wife of Colombian writer Gabriel García Márquez, might use the names Mercedes Barcha García or Mercedes Barcha de García in social situations. ... Adopting a husband's last name for social purposes, though widespread, is only legally recognized in Ecuador and Peru." - Blanco, José A. and Philip Redwine Donley, Late. Vistas: Introducción a la Lengua Española (4th ed.) (2012) Vistas higher Learning: p. 86.

Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spanish_naming_customs, 6/4/16) says that in Spain, "gender equality law has allowed surname transposition since 1999, subject to the condition that every sibling must bear the same surname order recorded in the Registro Civil (civil registry), but there have been legal exceptions." And then "In an English-speaking environment, Spanish-named people sometimes hyphenate their surnames to avoid Anglophone confusion or to fill in forms with only one space provided for last name."

The article also says they might have a first and middle name like we do (and go by either informally), though that would be called having a composite (vs. simple) forename rather than two names. "Legislation in Spain under Franco legally limited cultural naming customs to only Christian (Jesus, Mary, saints) and typical Spanish names (Álvaro, Jimena, et al.)." But now "the only naming limitation is the dignity of the child, who cannot be given an insulting name. Similar limitations applied against diminutive, familiar, and colloquial variants not recognized as names proper, and 'those that lead to confusion regarding sex." Wow. But "[a]lthough the first part of a composite forename generally reflects the gender of the child, the second personal name need not (e.g. José María Aznar)" and they can go by either name, so maybe their second name can be gender neutral.

Another interesting thing in the article is that -ez endings can mean "son of" (Hernández = son of Hernando, Sánchez = son of Sancho), implying things were done differently in the past.
livingdeb: (cartoon)
One thing that is handled much better in Spanish than English is reflexive verbs. We learned a bunch back in the chapter on waking up and getting ready and are now learning more in the chapter on well-being. These are words for describing actions you take that are focussed on yourself, in other words, when the subject and object of a action are the same person.

The Spanish way to express these concepts makes good sense. They add a reflexive handle to regular verbs. For example:
llamar = to call
llamarse = to call oneself

So in English we can ask, "what do you call yourself?" This is so long that we usually ask instead, "What is your name?" (Or just say our name and hope they get the hint.) Fewer words are needed in Spanish: "¿Cómo se llama [usted]?" And the words for self are shorter than in English:
* me = myself
* te = yourself
* se = himself, herself, itself, or themselves
* nos = ourselves
* os = y'all's selves

Often, the English ways are wacky and random feeling. For example, sometimes we just add random prepositions to the verbs.
* to sit down = sentarse (to sit oneself)
* to lie down = acostarse (to lie oneself)
* to cool down or cool off = enfriarse (to cool oneself)
* to get up = levantarse (to raise oneself)
* to wash up = lavarse (to wash oneself)
* to warm up (before exercise) = calentarse (to warm oneself)
* to hurry up = apurarse (to hurry oneself) or darse prisa (to give oneself haste)
* to put on = ponerse (to put oneself)
* to try on = probarse (to try oneself)
* to dry off = secarse (to dry oneself)
* to go away = irse (to go oneself)

Sometimes we use the verb "to get" with a related adjective.
* to get ready = arreglarse (to fix up oneself)
* to get dressed = vestirse (to dress oneself)
* to get bored = aburrirse (to bore oneself)
* to get angry = enojarse (to anger oneself)
* to get sick = enfermarse (to sicken oneself)
* to get hurt = lastimarse (to hurt oneself)
* to get engaged = comprometerse (to commit oneself)

Sometimes we use some other kind of phrase.
* to go to bed = acostarse (to put oneself to bed)
* to go to sleep or to fall asleep = dormirse (to sleep oneself)
* to take a bath = bañarse (to bathe oneself)
* to take a shower = ducharse (to shower oneself)
* to put on makeup = maquillarse (to make oneself up)
* to be happy = alegrarse (to make oneself happy)

Or we just have a whole different word.
* to remember = acordarse (to remind oneself)
* to become = ponerse (to put oneself)
* to practice = entrenarse (to train oneself)

Or sometimes we just assume it's reflexive unless another object is indicated.
* to shave = afeitarse (to shave oneself)
* to stay, to remain = quedarse (to leave oneself)
* to stay in shape = mantenerse en forma (to maintain oneself in shape)
* to graduate = graduarse (to confer a degree on oneself)
* to retire = jubilarse (to put oneself into retirement)
To bathe and shower also fit in this category.

There's also another interesting difference when the object of the action is just a part of you. In English we say we do something to our body part as if the body part is something outside of us that we own. But in Spanish we say we do something to ourselves and then mention which body part is affected. Examples:
* to brush one's teeth = cepillarse los dientes (to brush the teeth [of] ourselves or to self-brush the teeth)
* to brush one's hair = cepillarse el pelo (to self-brush the hair)
* to wash one's hands = lavarse las manos (to self-wash the hands)
* to hurt one's foot = lastimarse el pie (to self-hurt the foot, to hurt oneself [in] the foot)
* to sprain one's ankle = torcerse el tobillo (to self-twist the ankle)
livingdeb: (cartoon)
Robin recommended some novels based in Thailand by Timothy Hallinan. He'd just bought his own copies, so I started reading. But I accidentally started reading "Crashed" first, which is set in Los Angeles and turns out to be a whole different series (the Junior Bender mysteries).

The set-up is interesting--the protagonist is a thief who other bad guys call when they want the kind of justice they can't get from police.

And the writing is read-aloud quality. And he brings up interesting issues. This is from the first page:

"I think for everyone in the world, there's something you could dangle in front of them, something they would run onto a freeway at rush hour to get. When I meet somebody, I like to try to figure out what that is for that person. You for diamonds, darling, or first editions of Dickens? Jimmy Choo shoes or a Joseph Cornell box? And you, mister, a thick stack of green? A troop of Balinese Girl Scouts? A Maserati with your monogram on it?

"For me, it's a wall safe."

Do I have anything like that? If so, am I willing to admit it to myself?

Later, he's discussing a burglary job:

..."Is the door visible from the street?"

"It's so completely visible," she'd said, "that if you were a kid in one of those '40s musicals and you decided to put on a show, the front door of the Huston house is where you'd put it on."

"Makes the back sound good," I'd said.

"Aswarm with Rottweilers." ...

Burglars, of which I am one, don't like Rottweilers.


I recommend it.

So then I read the second one, Little Elvises. Also good, though I didn't enjoy it quite as much. Then I read the third one, The Fame Thief, which I liked better than #2. There are more, but I don't yet have access to them.

So then I started the books set in Thailand. Yowsa! I hated the first chapter, where one guy is scheming to steal from the other guy. The next chapter was great. But this book has torture in it. Well, what did I expect with the title A Nail Through the Heart?

This book covers some of the same themes as Bangkok 8. Torture. Prostitution. Cultural differences, like how Americans want to fix things and people, but what is in people's pasts is a part of what makes them who they are, and you can't make it disappear. It's a good book, but harder to get through.

Blog Post of the day

Miser Mom's Twisted Resolutions - Yes, this is how to craft a resolution. 'I love making really creative, convoluted resolutions that combine multiple goals in a sort of back-door way. One of my most successful resolutions of years past -- successful in the sense that I'm still happily incorporating them in my regular life -- combined my goal of wanting to get back into shape and also spend more time with friends: the resolution was, "Run gregariously".'

Read more for more great examples. I haven't figured out a way to this technique for myself yet, but I'm keeping it in mind.

Definitions of the Day

The wikipedia article for Kludge has my favorite definition of all time:

"An ill-assorted collection of poorly-matching parts, forming a distressing whole." It's redundant, but I love it.

And it has two other fun definitions as well:

"A clever programming trick intended to solve a particular nasty case in an expedient, if not clear, manner. Often used to repair bugs. Often involves ad-hockery and verges on being a crock." Ad-hockery. Verges. Heh.

"Something that works for the wrong reason."

(Thanks to Empirical Question for sharing that article.)
livingdeb: (cartoon)
Since I hate memorizing, I'm always looking for patterns when I'm studying Spanish. In the chapter on housing, I noticed a lot of words with similar endings and research showed that these were "agent nouns." These are nouns made out of verbs in a certain way to give you a person or object that does or helps you do the action of the noun. For example, a baker bakes, a walker helps you walk, and a cleaner helps you clean.

In Spanish, all verb infinitives end in "r." You make an agent noun by removing the "r" and adding either "-dor" or "-dora" (the former is masculine, the latter, feminine).

Here are some examples from Spanish that are the same as English:

* lavar = to wash; la lavadora = washing machine (aka washer)
* secar = to dry; la secadora = dryer
* tostar = to toast; la tostadora = toaster
* refrigerar = to air-condition, to refrigerate, to cool; el refrigerador = refrigerator
* congelar = to freeze; el congelador = freezer
* licuar = to blend, to liquifiy; la licuadora = blender
* batir = to beat, whisk, whip; la batidora = egg beaters, mixer
* jugar = to play; jugador/a = a player (one who plays)
* trabajar = to work; trabajador/a = the adjective "hardworking," but el/la trabajador/a = worker
* calcular = to calculate; la calculadora = calculator
* borrar = to erase; el borrador = eraser
* contestar = to answer; la contestadora = answering machine

These are a bit different:

* despertar = to wake up; la despertadora = alarm clock
* aspirar = to inhale, suck in, or vacuum; la aspiradora = vacuum cleaner
* comer = to eat; el comedor = dining room (a dining room helps you eat?)

And my favorite one:

* tener = to have; el tenedor = fork - which apparently helps you have things from other people's plates, or helps you have things that belong to people you are stabbing with it.

While I was playing with this, the song "Secret Agent Man" got stuck in my head. Love that song! I wondered if I could change the song to "Spanish Agent Noun," and decided that yes, I could.

Original lyrics:

Secret Agent Man

There's a man who leads a life of danger.
To everyone he meets he stays a stranger.
With every move he makes,
Another chance he takes.
Odds are he won't live to see tomorrow.

Secret agent man, secret agent man,
They've given you a number and taken away your name.

Beware of pretty faces that you find!
A pretty face can hide an evil mind.
Ah, be careful what you say
Or you'll give yourself away.
Odds are you won't live to see tomorrow.

Secret agent man, secret agent man,
They've given you a number and taken away your name.

[insrumental]

Secret agent man, secret agent man,
They've given you a number and taken away your name.

Swinging on the Riviera one day,
And then laying in the Bombay alley, next day.
Oh no, you let the wrong word slip
While kissing persuasive lips.
The odds are you won't live to see tomorrow.

Secret agent man, secret agent man,
They've given you a number and taken away your name.

Secret agent man!


Revised lyrics:

Spanish Agent Noun

There's a noun who leads a life of doing.
To everyone he meets, he's volunteering.
With every rising sun,
Another task is done.
Odds are you'll encounter him tomorrow.

Spanish agent noun, Spanish agent noun,
They've given you a "-dora" and taken away your "r."

Beware of pretty suffixes you find!
Pretty suffixes can be unkind.
Ah, be careful at the beach
Or she'll change your part of speech.
"Secar" may become "la secadora."

Spanish agent noun, Spanish agent noun,
They've given you a "-dora" and taken away your "r."

[instrumental]

Spanish agent noun, Spanish agent noun,
They've given you a "-dora" and taken away your "r."

Swinging as a verb of leisure one day,
And then working as an agent noun the next day.
Oh, no, you let your last “r” slip
While kissing -Dora's lips.
Odds are you'll be helping me tomorrow.

Spanish agent noun, Spanish agent noun,
They've given you a "-dora" and taken away your "r."

Spanish agent noun!


I was giggling the whole time I was working on this. Fun times.
livingdeb: (cartoon)
I just read a book (Lawrence Block's Hit and Run) where a stamp collector always carried around a stamp catolog in which he had circled all the stamps he had so that he could make sure not to re-buy those stamps.

One day he lost his collection. He didn't really have the motivation to start a new collection from scratch, but he still had the collecting itch and he still had that catalog. So he decided he would continue buying stamps he hadn't already bought before. He would just circle the new stamps in a different color so he could see which ones he currently owned. He decided that this way his catalog would be like a bird-watcher's birdlist--it showed every stamp he had ever owned.

And so it occurred to me that making Spanish flashcards (and then learning what's on them) is sort of like adding to my life list of Spanish words I have learned. Of course with words, after a while you get to a point where you can communicate with some people who don't know your native tongue, but until that point, it also feels a little like a collection.

I could copy the stamp collector and circle words that I master in a dictionary. Would that be motivating or disheartening?
livingdeb: (cartoon)
Sometimes we have different words for the same thing based on whether the living creature is still using it or whether people are using it. For example:
* pig vs. pork
* cow vs. beef
* skin vs. leather

But not everything like this gets two words. For example:
* chicken
* fish (and other seafoods)
* fur

Interestingly, this phenomenon also exists in Spanish, but not for the same concepts. Here are some concepts for which they have different words:
* vaca vs. carne (del rez) (cow vs. meat/beef)
* pez vs. pescado (literally fish vs. fished - live fish versus fish for food)

And here's where it seems like they don't have two words:
* pollo (chicken)
* cerdo (pig/pork)

And I just learned two words for leather: cuero (leather) and piel (skin).

On a similar note, I've noticed that people in the US who are from Iran like to refer to themselves as Persians. If they have a restaurant with Iranian food, it is called Persian. Yea for American ignorance keeping them safe!

Craft blog entry of the day

Especially for Texpenguin, I recommend Miser Mom's Well, now I can cross "make penguins" off my to-do list. But it's fun to read even if you don't do crafts and don't love penguins (or canning jars). "Some animals look cute with really big eyes. I pulled out my button stash to do some experimenting, and I decided the large buttons would make my penguins look stoned. So I chose small black buttons for eyes instead."

Illustrated blog entry of the day

You know how little babies are always making hilarious faces at random? Well, Miser Mom has captured a bunch of these faces on her new granddaughter and used them to illustrate her guide to throwing a good party, Ocho de Mayo. "Then we sit down to lots of yummy food: rice, hamburger and beans, cheese, lettuce, bananas, and salsa. How was that salsa, Baby A? [illustration speaks for itself, but is captioned anyway for extra fun] 'Yoicks! Hot! But good!'" [Don't worry--no one fed the tiny new being salsa; she was just the illustrator.]
livingdeb: (cartoon)
We have now learned two forms of past tense in Spanish. The imperfect is used for descriptions and ongoing or habitual actions. I like to think of it as setting the stage. It is used for sentences like these:
* Once upon a time, there were three bears.
* It was a dark and stormy night.
* When I was working, I used to take the bus.
* She had green hair.

The preterite is used to describe things with specific starting or ending points. I like to think of it as advancing the plot. It is used for sentences like these:
* Suddenly, all eyes were on her.
* She said it was not her fault.
* The porridge was too hot.

(Most sentences could be said both ways, but with different meanings. For example: "As usual, the porridge was too hot" would be the other kind of past tense.)

We had one small lesson where we were taught four words whose meanings are so different in the preterite that we tend to use different words in English:
* conocer - to know (people)
* saber - to know (facts, ideas)
* poder - to be able to
* querer - to want

In the preterite, the action is not ongoing or habitual:
* conocer - met
* saber - found out
* poder - managed, succeeded (could and did)
* querer - tried (not only wanted, but actually tried)

Interesting.
livingdeb: (cartoon)
"It has been proposed (by Tam) that to replace me with a robot, you would need only about thirty phrases. So I just need to figure out the Spanish for those thirty phrases and I'm good." - Robin

Robin has also said that Tam and Sally would joyfully provide these phrases. I know only one, a fairly recent development:
* "It's what I do."

Robin suggested a few other good choices:
* Where is the bathroom?
* Your stereo needs adjusting.

Please feel free to join in the fun.

I wonder what my phrases are. I probably say "Excuse me" and "Sorry" more than most people (I end up in crowds somehow). But then there's also "This is a good [name of ballroom dance] song" or simply, inserted into the middle of a conversation about something else: "[name of ballroom dance]."

Also, I often start replies with "Actually, ..."

Do you have any phrases you feel the robot of you should know?
livingdeb: (cartoon)
One of my plans for things to do when I retire is to finally learn Spanish. I would do all the things I used to do when taking classes:
* go to class
* do the readings
* do the homework
* study for the tests
* be well-rested for the tests
* ask the instructor questions/visit during office hours (didn't really learn that until the very end)

Plus I would do what my old roommate Cissy recommended:
* flashcards for vocabulary learning (and I once found a flashcard ap that looked really good)

And what my old friend Mattias did:
* try to do a lot of my self-talking in Spanish

And what my friend James did:
* try to get a study partner

And my old friend Jack:
* figure out who the smartest and best students are and sit near them and try to do any group projects with them

Plus I would do those things I've been hearing about from by academic advisor co-workers:
* start a study group
* talk to an advisor and see what is recommended
* check out any learning center resources

And what I've heard from other sources about language learning:
* study every day, even if it's just a few minutes--cramming doesn't work
* talk to Spanish speakers, even though you don't sound as good as a two-year-old (maybe--scary--or maybe just try conversation meet-ups and/or an informal class on conversational Spanish, plus at restaurants)

And my own additional ideas:
* pick up children's books from the library
* look at the same topics in multiple texts, not just our required textbook
* become a tutor
* watch familiar movies with the sound and/or subtitles in Spanish

I suck at languages. So even though I had three years of Spanish in high school and have tried to learn it a few times since then, I thought I'd take Austin Community College's placement test cold. And make sure not to answer any of the questions unless I was sure of the answer so I wouldn't look more advanced than I really am. I'm afraid I'll get into a class where there will be a lot of prerequisite knowledge I don't have, and I have enough trouble keeping up as it is. I'd rather start in a class where I already know some of the stuff and then I can learn every single other thing that is taught. And then by the end of the classes I will actually know Spanish--be able to talk to people, read my favorite local Spanish weekly newspaper, and maybe even read Spanish books in the original (though there's nothing in particular I'm looking forward to).

But then I saw a review of duolinguo, which teaches you things bit by bit and you keep score like in a video game that's actually fun. And because the lessons are short and repetitive, you actually learn things and don't get overwhelmed and don't forget last week's stuff while you're learning this week's stuff.

So now I'm thinking maybe I'll learn and re-learn as much stuff as I can on my own and then take the placement test, hoping I'll need at least one more class because group learning is better.

Opinions?

Quote of the Day - "Of course I can't go interview people myself because I have a medical condition where I don't want to." - Stephen Colbert
livingdeb: (cartoon)
I thought of a nickname-creation method: See if the first two letters of your first name and the last two letters of your last name make a good nickname.

Unfortunately, the answer is: probably not.

Mine's okay: Deer.

The one for the guy I just wrote about is not: Daft.

My boyfriend's is pretty good: Rord.

Various other readers:
* Sams
* Taox
* Lyce (or Evce)
* Dace
* Dird
* Sher
* Pary
* Laur

Various family members:
* Jeer (previously Jarm)
* Caer
* Daht (previously Grer)
* Suoe (previously Kaer, Suck)
* Tioe
* Aloe
* Jeoe
* Mioe
* Thoe
* Rirm

It's interesting that some of them end up just being the first four letters of their first name.

I'm going to Alexandra Briscoe's as my favorite and Sunny Medlock's as my least favorite.
livingdeb: (cartoon)
I'm not really learning Japanese, but I did pick up Japanese for Dummies partly to learn a little more about the culture so maybe we can understand some of Robin's co-workers better.

This book is so dumbed down it uses Roman letters. Still, the first chapter alone is fascinating.

They managed to have a section on English words that are from Japanese, like hibachi, karaoke, kimono, origami, sake, samurai, and tsunami.

Then there was a section on Japanese words that are from the English:

basude keki (bahh-soo-dehh kehh-kee)
jusu (jooo-soo)
kamera (kah-meh-rah)
kohi (kohh-heee)
nekutai (neh-koo-tah-ee)
pati (pahh-teee)
rajio (rah-jee-oh)
resutoran (reh-soo-toh-rahn)
suteki (soo-tehh-kee)
sutoraiku (soo-toh-rah-e-koo)

Unless you are used to listening to people with a heavy Japanese accent, you might not recognize these words. So I think they are a fun puzzle. I will put the meanings in a comment.

"Whenever someone says something to you, nod immediately. Otherwise, the speaker will think that you're not paying attention or that you're upset." Interesting. Are we perhaps assuming that someone is telling us that they understand something when really they are just telling us that they are paying attention?

The second chapter has some grammar, again fascinating. The following is just from the first part of that chapter.

In sentences the verb comes last. The subject and object can be in any order because they are attached to marker words (particles). "Ga" is the subject-marking particle, and "o" is the object-marking particle ("o" for "object"--what could be easier to remember?). So for example:

"Mari ga Jon o sasotta" means Mary-(the subject)-John-(the object)-invited or "Mary invited John."

"Jon o Mari ga sasotta" means the same thing.

Additional particles take the place of prepositions and conjunctions. And they don't use articles at all--so it makes sense that many Japanese speakers have trouble figuring out when to say "a/an" or "the" (or neither) in various situations. Frankly, I don't know how anyone learns English as a second language, but it looks especially crazy hard for Japanese speakers.

Japanese sentences often start with topic phrases such as "Speaking of chili, ..." or "As for yesterday's homework, ..." If the topic noun is also the subject or the object, just use the topic particle (wa), not the subject or object particle. So, maybe putting together the puzzle of a sentence's meaning isn't always so straightforward (to beginners). Like in Latin. Latin is one of those languages where sentence order almost completely doesn't matter because they have different forms for all the words in all the different roles. Only there is loads of redundancy--is this the possessive form of this noun or the first-person singular past tense of the verb with the same root? That really drove me nutso.

Questions don't have question marks. You just end them with the question particle (ka).

In English, we mostly ignore status. We add politeness by maybe using titles in front of names, perhaps referring to someone as sir or ma'am, and trying to minimize the slang. Japanese has different forms of verbs for different levels of formality. Unlike Spanish, which has two levels (formal and informal), Japanese has three (formal, polite/neutral, and informal), basically corresponding to the status of the other person compared to yours (higher, similar, or lower). Since we Americans are not in the habit of paying close attention to status, or of even admitting that there are status differences or that these differences matter at all, this is where we probably make some of our most laughable mistakes.

In Japan, they are so hyper-aware of status that there are also mind games involved. Robin's boss will sometimes tell him where to sit at a meeting table to make the impression she wants to make with him--basically to communicate how important it is to listen to what he says or something. And many bigwigs will act like they have much lower status than they really have, but their colleagues don't fall for that. Robin has learned to pay attention to how other people are treating a new visitor--not just how the new visitor is treating him.

Of course everything in this entry is third-hand (my interpretation of a Dummies book or from stories I've heard about Robin's day at work), so perhaps none of it is strictly true. But whatever the reality is, there are interesting bits to it.

Quote of the Day - At an interview for a job at Robin's employer, "Wait, is this a Japanese company? I speak Japanese!" Yes, he got the job. (But mostly because he passed the writing and tech tests.)
livingdeb: (Default)
The college where I work is trying a new application where students fill out a ten-minute survey with questions like:
* How well are you getting along with your roommate?
* Are you homesick?
* What grades do expect to get in college?
* How many hours do expect to study each week?

Basically, they are testing for risk factors for dropping out of college. Based on the answers, they assign the student red code, yellow code or green code. And based on that, various strangers will try to help the student, or at least the student gets directed to various campus resources.

I don't know if the student gets to find out what their own rating is, or even that this is about risk factors.

When I started college, I thought I was at zero risk of dropping out or taking more than four years to graduate. Based on my experiences there and those of my friends, I still think there was virtually no risk of my not finishing in four years.

Yet, I definitely had risk factors:

* I was a first-generation college student. Actually, both my parents had taken some college courses, but I was the first one to go to a four-year college. I would have never guessed this was a risk factor as a student--who cares if other people in my family didn't go? What matters is that _I_ had never been to college and didn't know what it would be like. So I read up on everything I could about what college would be like. I was worried that if it was much harder than high school, I would have serious trouble. But it was only slightly harder, and since we were in class a lot fewer hours, there was plenty of extra time available for homework and studying.

* I had no friends at first. I knew no one at my school when I first got there, and didn't even have a dorm room due to some kind of confusion (but I was on the wait list). And when I did get a roommate, she spent all of her time at her new boyfriend's place. Well, that's why I picked a college where most people lived on campus. And with a 50/50 male/female ratio. Fortunately, I met lots of people during the orientation activities, although I ended up in a different dorm (and different major) than all of them.

* I was lonely. My friends spent A LOT of time studying. But my best friend and I wrote each other daily (for the first couple of years, anyway), and I didn't have homesickness. I'd been away from home many times and moved many, many times, so even though I'd never lived in New England before, it was no big deal.

* I had no idea what to major in. Or what kind of career I wanted.

* My parents had a pretty low income those years, so they might have concluded I was in a low socioeconomic group. In fact, I did go to Head Start (after which they made me skip kindergarten) and we were on food stamps for a while once. But I had both parents, they valued reading and school (and Girl Scouts), and I went to the same high school as the kids of NASA employees went to, so no. That was not a problem. Actually, my grandma worried that I couldn't afford to go to school with so many rich people, and I had indeed never met such rich people before, but, again, we all lived on campus, and they spent all their time studying, not buying expensive things or whatever.

If I had learned or suspected that I was code red or code yellow, that would not have been at all helpful. I think it might have added more doubts rather than inspiring an I'll-show-them response.

Having somebody try to counsel me on how to find better friends probably wouldn't have helped. I'd already taken personality and career interest tests. And having various random strangers who had all read the same results contacting me one after the other asking me about how I'm doing would have just been extremely annoying. (Because they want to involve academic counselors, mental health counselors, career counselors, dorm RAs, maybe even professors and TAs, and who knows who else. I might have had nightmares about the omelet guy at the cafeteria, passing Buildings-and-Grounds guys, and bookstore cashiers all, one after the other asking me, "Are you okay?")

Oh yeah, and these different staff can all get together and talk about you behind your back, too.

I think I could have profited from knowing that study groups and tutoring are helpful and that neither one of those things (or seeing professors during their office hours) is even remotely considered cheating may have been helpful. (Although, of the three times I did talk to a professor, exactly zero times were helpful, and one actually made things worse.)

But studies have shown that graduation rates are better after using this program, blah, blah blah. So it probably helps some people keep from getting lost at their new school.

**

In other news, I'm trying to learn to say "jaguar" with a British accent (closer to JAG-you-er than JAG-wahr), but I still don't have it.

Cake of the Day

Here's a pretty one:



Even though it's broken. I love the 3-D fish swimming around in front.

Here's a view showing more of the pieces:

livingdeb: (Default)
Thanks to Facebook, I learned that a friend was going to Nerd Nite (spelled "nerdnite" in Boston/Cambridge), a monthly event I'd never before heard of. The bad part is we meet in a bar (drinking, noise) in downtown (bad parking). The good part is that there are three lectures.

This week's first lecture was "Indian Language Politics, or How Gandhi Pissed Off Almost Everyone" by Libby Bowers.

Here's what I used to know about language in India: They speak Hindi.

Then, additional languages became available at the college where I work, and so I did some administrative stuff so that if you took one of these languages, it would count toward your foreign language requirement. And that is how I learned that Urdu, Tamil, and Telugu are also spoken in India.

I learned a lot more at Nerd Nite.

India has no national languages and two official languages: Hindi and English. English was only going to be transitionally official, but they keep extending its official status.

There are 22 "scheduled" languages. These are the languages that are very commonly spoken. But there are hundreds of languages.

And the languages are not all closely related, either. Many languages are descended from Sanskrit, especially in the North. (Sanskrit itself is rarely used, mostly for religious purposes, perhaps like Latin.) Many other languages are from a completely different family, Dravidian, especially in the south.

The languages don't even use the same script. The speaker showed us two major ones: one looked unfamiliar to me, the other looked like Arabic to me.

Our speaker really liked the Hindustani movement. This is where some people wanted to work with Hindi and Urdu, which are very similar but use different scripts, and remove the Sanskrit-based words in Hindi and the Persian-based words in Urdu to make one common language, but this language would be written in both scripts.

Compromise was not easy and apparently Gandhi did not help matters at one of these language conferences when he called the new language "Hindi Hindistani" and made it perfectly clear that he had no clue about the issues at hand and probably didn't care either. Continuing conflict lead to separation, which made the remaining Urdu speakers feel (according to our speaker), "Oh crap! Not only are we a smaller minority now, our language is associated with the enemy of our country [Pakistan]."

Our speaker said that Hindi and Urdu used to be very similar, but in Pakistan, more Arabic vocabulary has been introduced. (Note: where I work, Hindi and Urdu are considered so similar that they often meet together and you cannot get credit for taking both. I won't claim, however, that there is nothing backward about Indian language teaching in Texas.)

The state boundaries in India coincide with natural language boundaries. So each state is associated with a local language. And you can also learn the official languages, which are handy for many types of jobs. Now although Urdu is the sixth-most-spoken language in India, the speakers are not concentrated enough to have a state or even schools.

At the end, I told my friend, "Now that I have a clue, I'm wondering what languages your family speaks." Punjabi and English, plus she learned Hindi in school, as a foreign language. Her family lives in Punjab.

And then I did a tiny amount of research on Punjabi and Punjab. Punjabi is Indo-Aryan, like Sanskrit. It is the 13th most widely spoken language in the world. I can't tell which script is used--maybe both (or more than two). Punjab is in northwestern India, and part of it is in what is now Pakistan.

Since I hang with geeks, I did a tiny amount of research about Banagalore, the Silicon Valley of India. This is in southern India in the state of Karnataka where Kannada, a Dravidian language, is the official language.

Quotes of the Day - I recently attended a required class on customer service where I heard a few fun quotes.

"You may have seen me in the hallway and thought, 'I'd like to buy that guy lunch. Or a frosty or something.' And you can."

"We are not authorities on the subject. No, no. We are just guides."

"Empathize! As long as you're not a sociopath, you can do this!"
livingdeb: (Default)
Yesterday, while playing Quiddler, someone used the word aa, which several people did not know. The other people who did know it knew it because of games where knowing short words like that is helpful. I talked people out of challenging the use of this word because I learned in a survey physical geography class that it is the pointy kind of lava, as opposed to the smooth kind, pahoehoe (which sounded familiar to at least one other person even though it is of little use for the kinds of games that teach you words like aa, but then he had been to Hawaii).

Out of curiosity, our hostess looked up the word in her dictionary later, and it wasn't there. I don't remember what dictionary it was, but it was a hard cover dictionary of respectable size with the word "Riverside" in the title. One guest speculated it was some sort of religious text.

The next day, out of curiosity, I checked several books I have at home:

The American Heritage Dictionary, based on the new Second College Edition, 1983. In my mind, this is the book that Robin thinks is the best paperback dictionary ever but which never once has failed to disappoint me. I expected the word to be missing and it is. The entries go from a- to aardvark.

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary, 1974. This is the paperback dictionary I got to replace the previous one in the bedroom, although Robin thinks dictionaries with Webster in the title are terrible. I expected the word to be present, but it wasn't. It goes from a to AA.

That really surprised me. How could a word I remember from an introductory college class not be in a normal dictionary? But now I see that my replacement dictionary is not a college dictionary, and I have found in the past that college dictionaries are more likely to have the sorts of words I want to look up than other dictionaries are.

Geomorphology of the Earth, Karl W. Butzer, 1976. This is the introductory text of which I'd spoken. "The rough, jagged lavas associated with violent eruptions are less fluid and solidify at higher temperatures than basic lavas." No terms at all.

Perhaps my professor or TA was pleased with himself that he knew some terms for these from the Hawaiian, and they aren't, in fact, English terms at all. Like all those Eskimo words for snow.

The Random House College Dictionary, revised edition, 1984. This is the regular hard-copy dictionary I go to when I'm willing to get up out of my chair. I would have expected it to have the word before I had looked into my geology book, and it does. Between A-1 and AA is aa, "basaltic lava having a rough surface" (from the Hawaiian).

Webster's New Universal Unabridged Dictionary, based on the second edition of the Random House Dictionary of the English Language, 1996. This is an unabridged dictionary I got on clearance for those times when even my regular dictionary doesn't have the word I need. I expected aa to be there and it was. Also between A-1 and AA, "basaltic lava having a rough surface. Also a'a. Cf. pahoehoe." (from the Hawaiian)

The Penguin Pocket English Dictionary, 2004 - I got this small book in England so I could look up obvious easy words I found in books written by British people. All my other dictionaries are really of American English, though they don't say so. This being a small book from a country with probably no volcanoes, I was guessing aa wouldn't be there and it wasn't. It goes directly from a to AA.

My previous test word for dictionaries was macabre, but I'm afraid that since the radio show from which I learned this word became popular, all the dictionaries started picking it up. I can't test that theory at home because I only have ever bought dictionaries that included that word.

Still, a good test word can't be in all dictionaries, so it can't be too common of a word. It can't be in no dictionaries, but it needn't be too obscure (when I'm reading old books full of archaic words, I try to get the kind with lots of notes already in them so I don't have to look up all the words). Since I learned it in an intro class, aa doesn't seem too obscure to me.

Now that I have a proper measuring tool, I may have to replace my paperback dictionaries again. I like to have one in the bedroom for when I'm reading and one in the living room for when we're watching movies or TV.

Note: in case you're wondering, aa is pronounced "AH-ah," which my professor said might be the sort of sound you would make if you were walking on this in your bare feet.

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