Tag Archives: new word

A new word, a new world

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The day has started well. I woke at seven, realised I didn’t need to get up, re-woke at 8.30. Wandered downstairs switched on the computer and deleted 121 old emails. Renewed a society membership, ordered a nice addition to my collection of Sweetheart brooches and reviewed my list of jobs for today. Despite doing three things I have not yet done one of the things on my list. Typical.

I have just tackled the rising mound of paperwork on my desk, most of which is either waste paper or paper for recycling. None of it was the bit of paper I was hoping for, which is the penalty you pay for filing everything in one large pile and turning it over periodically.

Next, I started with National Savings and Investments. It’s a government organisation which handles savings and investments. Are you with me so far? It does nor, it seems, answer questions. When I ask it “How do I register online?” it tells me that it is new to the job and asks that I rephrase the question. It is either a robot, a misnamed artificial intelligence system or an idiot. The best suggestion it could come up with when I said “Yes please, I would like to talk to a person.” was that I should contact one of the team on Facebook or Twitter. Because nothing says “security” like discussing financial questions on a social media platform.

Misogyny

The part of my brain which keeps my language to a level suitable for use on a public blog is bulging and threatening to break, unleashing a tirade of foul-mouthed abuse and outdated vocabulary from a different era. Of the two, the world seems to take the latter much more seriously. Call someone a word that requires asterisks in polite company and nobody bothers, because that sort of language is all over TV. Call someone a moron and if the wrong person sees it you will be categorised as being on a lower level than a child molester or a Nazi.

At least I learned a new word today – cisheteropatriarchy. It means the dominance of cisgender heterosexual men. Cisgender, in case you haven’t been keeping up with modern doublespeak, is people that are the same gender as the one they were born with.

And with that, I will leave the blog. To stay longer would be to risk saying something with its roots in the mid-twentieth century.

It’s time to go anyway. Julia has just rung for a lift. It took three attempts to connect to her call because there is so much choice on this new phone. In the old days you only had one button and you only needed one try.

Change is easy, as people often say, but Improvement is hard.

Sexist stereotyping

I used the old postcard pictures I used to use for “humour” and changed them to depict modern concerns. Not sure if that makes me a sexist, misogynist, a hypocrite or a dinosaur.

Christmas Stamps

A New Word, a New Year and a (Possible) New Project

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Today I have what is generally referred to in medical circles as “a bad ankle”. Julia refers to it disparagingly and suggests that a reduction in calorie intake may cure the problem. Sympathy, I have noticed, is in short supply, these days. In some ways it’s good that it had happened on my day off, so I can rest in front of the fire, but in others it’s a bit of a nuisance as I had plans for today.

Still, sitting in front of a fire with my leg up isn’t the worst use of a day I can think of.

Sitting in front of the computer waiting for a message so I can reset my OU password, on the other hand, is not a good way to pass the day. I haven’t forgotten the password, it’s just that they have decided we should all reset our passwords on 16th December. I don’t know why and mine, when it is eventually reset, will doubtless be a bit sweary in content. It’s already been ten minutes. These days it’s normally instant. I know this because I forget a lot of passwords.

As it’s at their instigation and I really want access to my account now, I’m not happy. I rarely am when it comes to technology. The trick is to concentrate on the positives rather than the negatives. The internet is a miracle, and not the last refuge of idiots, nerds and password resetting jobsworths.

I seem to have invented the word “engative” whilst typing badly. It seems to have no meaning and the internet wants to correct it to “negative”. I think it has a future – maybe a word used to describe the process of being negative about England. The English are quite engative, as are the Scots, Welsh and Irish. That is to be expected as we’ve been neighbours for many years. I’ve noticed that the Americans on Quora (the last refuge of the Mental Pygmy) seem to be quite negative about England too (though they often mean the UK). This often takes the form of criticism about the British Empire. This is ironic, as our last major imperial misdemeanour took the form of expelling the Chagos Islanders from their homes in 1969-73 so that the Americans could have an air base there.

I feel another blog post coming on – The History of the World in 100 Blog Posts.  I will have to look into that…

Ten Minutes

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Last night I wrote a long, rambling and, frankly, dull post about a number of uninteresting subjects.

It was so boring I fell asleep in my chair and didn’t wake up until after midnight. I looked at what I’d written, made some sandwiches and then went to bed. It wasn’t even worth fixing.

To sum up – I’ve been invited to take part in a joint pain project. It involves filing in five questionnaires over five years. The confidentiality and ethics explanations are longer than the survey, and most of the survey consists of ticking boxes about different sorts of pain, including lanciating pain. It’s like stabbing pain when I look it up.

My two conclusions so far are that someone got a grant to do as project, and that they have an un-necessarily large vocabulary. I don’t recall all the pains I could have but I don’t have (a) enough time or (b) enough body parts to experience so much pain.

To make things worse, I went to the pharmacy to pick up some pain-killing gel the hospital has prescribed for me, though I didn’t ask for it and don’t have much pain. They were out of stock so I couldn’t get it. And today, for the first timer in ages, my finger started hurting.

Life, as they say, is like that.

That was my ten minutes. I’m off to drink tea and watch TV for a bit.

The medal is to celebrate the Queen’s 90th Birthday, because that’s what you want to cheer you up, a picture of yourself looking at a picture of yourself when you were much younger.

The coin next to it is a cent. It’s part of the creeping Americanism that is taking over the western world.It’s 100mm, or 4″ wide, weighs over 3/4 of a pound and cost over £100 when it was new. We’re struggling to find a buyer at £12.95.

Stuff and Nonsense

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It appears that the repeat blood test was because the previous one had been “unacceptable”. They usually use the word to describe a tube that wasn’t properly filled. I promise you that from where I was sitting there seemed to be plenty of blood in it.

That’s a coincidence, as the word “unacceptable” also figures in my view of events.

They managed to get a sample in only two attempts today, one attempt less than yesterday. As a result my cubital fossa is rather sore. That happens when the tests are close together.

Looking on the bright side, I’m not ill, the test is now done and I have learned a new word.

My next post will be more cheerful.