Mental Floss (where knowledge junkies get their fix) has a page on Facebook from which I have shamelessly stolen this link because it’s SO worth sharing. You need never run out of cutesy names for your spouse, children, pets, and best friends ever again.
1. “Mon chou”
French, meaning “my cabbage.”
German for “cutie pie.”
“Sweet nose” in Swedish.
4. “Meu Chuchuzinho”
Portuguese for “my little squash.”
5. “Moya Solnishka”
Russian for “my little sun.”
6. “Mijn Bolleke”
“My little round thing” in Flemish.
Hungarian, meaning “my little bug.”
8. “Mi cielito”
“My little sky” in Spanish.
9. “Mijn poepie”
A quirky Dutch term for “my little poop.”
10. “Matakia mou”
Greek for “my little eyes.”
11. “Microbino mio”
“My little microbe” in Italian.
12. “Moosh bekhoradet”
“May a mouse eat you” in Persian.
13. “Mo Chuisle”
Irish for “my pulse.”
14. “Min guldklump”
Danish, meaning “my gold nugget.”
15. “Ma puce”
French for “my flea.”
Personally I am now questioning the sanity of the Persians and the Dutch.
Adding to the fun, here’s another link from Mental Floss with alternatives to saying a simple hello.
1) “What’s the craic?”
How they say “What’s up?” in Ireland. The craic (pronounced “crack”) is the news, gossip, latest goings-on, or the fun times to be planned.
2) “How hops it?”
Be classically cool with this late 19th-century slang for “How’s it going?”
Add a little jaunty excitement by getting into pirate mode.
4) [Hat tip]
Be the strong, silent type and forgo words entirely with an elegant tip of your hat.
5) “There he/she is!”
Make someone feel like the man or the woman of the hour.
Feeling friendly and cosmopolitan? “Ciao” will set the mood. Add a kiss on each cheek for authenticity.
Want to write a letter with a classical Latin feel? Open with this abbreviation for Salute plurimam dicit. Si vales, bene est, ego valeo. “Many greetings. If you’re well, then that’s good, and I’m well too.”
Show off your verbal dexterity with this gentleman’s greeting.
Or keep it simple and use the word that means just what it says.
Keep it casual, cowpoke, or get fancier with a full-on “Howdydo?”
Bring a little mellow sunshine to your interactions by greeting the Hawaiian way.
Start with a show of respect. This peaceful greeting comes from the Sanskrit for “I bow to you.”
13) “How’s tricks?”
You’ve got to smile when you dust off this gem from the 1920s.
14) “Breaker, breaker”
Open the conversation like a trucker on a CB radio.
15) “Well, look at you!”
Reminiscent of the sweet way your grandma used to express how impressed she was with you. Why not spread the love around with this opening?
And why not choose a random number from each list and combine the two?? It’s not like you have anything better to do on a Sunday, right? Well maybe you do. I don’t.
So – How hops it, schnuckiputzi? Microbino mio – well – just look at you!
The possibilities are truly mind-boggling. But that’s what Mental Floss is all about, boggles for the mind. And there you go. Don’t ever say I have never contributed to your brain scrambled weekend.
Sometimes things to talk about come in the mail or mysteriously surface during a clean-up and neither will leave your head until you forcibly remove them. At least that’s been my experience. For today. Tomorrow could be another whole ball of wax. (Where did that strange expression come from? I tried looking it up, but it seems no one can agree on its exact origin and after reading the third or fourth educated guess I lost interest.)
Anyway, after waiting all week for it, an invoice/receipt arrived at last in the mail today. I am sharing part of it here because I think it’s pretty exciting.
If all goes well, I will be celebrating my May 13th birthday in Athens this year. Santorini is one of the places my brother visited and loved and thought he would like to return to see again some day but he never got the chance. So this trip is a family holiday to remember him. Good Gawd, look at all those island ferry transfers across the deep dark sea. I hope they make good wine in Greece.
The other thing I’m sharing surfaced from a filing cabinet, in a file folder labeled ‘recipes’. Who in the world prints off random recipes from the internet and files them away and ignores them for a decade? Never mind, we already know the answer to that. Inside this folder I also found a copy of a Christmas letter written by our cats in 1997, a three-fold religious pamphlet and a letter from a fitness spa, but there was something else in there even MORE interesting. I can picture you rolling your eyes and sighing but sorry, that’s not going to stop me. Here are the amazing printed words I found with no title and no explanation.
In another younger day I could dream the time away
In the universe inside my room
And the world was really mine from June until September
And if it wasn’t really so I was lucky not to know
And I was lucky not to wonder why
Because the summer time is all that I remember
A summer fly was buzzin’ every night when I was young
In the gentle world my child-like senses knew
And the world was just my cousin
And the wind was just the tongue
In the voice my lonely moments listened to
And I look at me today all the dreams have gone away
And I’m where I never thought I would be
Seeing things I never thought I would see happening to me
And I lay awake at night til the darkness turns to light
Hearing voices calling out my name
Droning over and again the same message to me
Crying who’s your partner, who’s your darlin’, who’s your baby now?
Who wakes up at night to pull you in
But it don’t matter, you’ll just make her lonely anyhow
I don’t know why you even try to win
At first I thought it was a poem but then I remembered it’s the lyrics to a song and went searching for it on YouTube. It’s amazing what’s on that site and the stuff that comes up and how much time can go flying by while you’re sitting on the living room couch with your I-Pad and a gigantic cup of coffee.
If you don’t know this song but like the words and the kind of sad and dreamy way they sound in your head, I think you’re going to love the music. There was some method to my madness, writing it down and putting it away in safekeeping to be discovered again on some very distant future Friday off.
Picture yourself in a boat on a river
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes
Cellophane flowers of yellow and green
Towering over your head
Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes
And she’s gone
Follow her down to a bridge by a fountain
Where rocking horse people eat marshmallow pies
Everyone smiles as you drift past the flowers
That grow so incredibly high
Newspaper taxis appear on the shore
Waiting to take you away
Climb in the back with your head in the clouds
And you’re gone
Picture yourself on a train in a station
With plasticine porters with looking-glass ties
Suddenly someone is there at the turnstile
The girl with kaleidoscope eyes
This little nostalgic trip back to the 60’s is compliments of the Beatles and their biggest fan, Merbear, at Knocked Over By A Feather for her Beatles Contest. Thanks Mer! Lately I’ve been on my own crazy little contest-entering trip.
And no, I was NOT high when I did the art work, but in case you feel like you are now, after staring at it for a while, I would just like to point out that the orange background is an actual picture of a jar of marmalade. I sure hope Paul is impressed and didn’t miss that.
Good things and bad things – they all come to an end eventually. How profound was that, hey? Don’t worry, there’s no deep and philosophical hidden message here. More like a whining complaining mini rant about things over which I have no control. Because I suck at endings and goodbyes.
Somebody told me I won’t be able to get my favourite erasable ink retractable pen anymore because they’re no longer being made. WHAT?? That was shock number one. I’m kidding, that wasn’t too horrible. Shock number one is that Trifecta is ending and will not be issuing amazing challenges any more! I know, I can’t believe it either. I love Trifecta. This is like when great bloggers just wander off into the sunset and don’t keep up their amazing blogs and you wonder whatever happened to them and hope they didn’t die or something. So all you bloggers out there who decided to just up and quit, please drop me a line that says hello, I’m not dead, if you’re not actually dead.
Our second year contact lens student who will be double licensed in June told me yesterday that she is going to apply for a management position that is coming available soon. When these opportunities present themselves it’s best to make it known that you’re interested and available. I know this, and mostly I applaud her ambition and wish her well. But another selfish little part of me hopes she won’t get it and she’ll stay where she is working with me. Because how is this not way better than anything else you could possibly imagine. Anyway, that’s potential upset number two.
And now, the third shoe drops, (there are always three shoes) I have just received an e-mail from my Avon lady telling me she is quitting Avon and doing something else instead and this week will be the last time she takes and delivers orders. She breaks up our relationship with an e-mail! I want to look her in the face and tell her how incredibly disappointed I am in her, because I was one of those customers who always ordered stuff, even when I didn’t need anything in particular because not ordering made me feel guilty. Okay, I’ve just convinced myself that this ending isn’t such a bad thing after all and I don’t really need to get in her face.
Other endings that are not bad ones:
1. Daylight Savings Time (Who decided that taking an hour off the beginning of the day and tacking it on to the end of the day made the day longer? Some jerk, obviously.)
2. Trilogies. After a long beginning and an equally long middle, I just want the story to get over itself and end already.
3. Illnesses like flu and skin rashes and indigestion and hangovers. Yes, hangovers are an illness. If you’ve ever had one, you know this.
5. Bad relationships
6. Good hair cuts, because that means the bad ones also go away.
7. Candy Crush levels that cause serious fits of anxiety and temporary pattern baldness.
8. Crazy work days and work weeks and all work of any kind.
10. Monopoly at McDonald’s so we can go back to coffee cups with stickers you collect to get a free cup of coffee. That way everybody wins.
So there are good endings. And I know when something wonderful ends it simply means there will be a new beginning of some other wonderful thing, but that doesn’t mean I can’t wallow in misery for a bit and feel sorry for myself and pout and whine about it. It’s my way of accepting whatever happens. Nobody said it was pretty.
gibigiana (n) the play of light reflected from water or a mirror; a flash of light, a sunlit area;
figuratively, a woman who flaunts her charm, or who wishes to dazzle you with her elegance
Ever wake up with some ridiculous song in your head and no clue why it surfaced? Like maybe from the bottom of the sea while the bubbles danced about above the water?
Yep, dreams can be messed up and confusing, and that’s why I rarely try to analyze them lest real life become equally baffling. I just google the pertinent stuff I remember which I’m pretty sure I couldn’t possibly have made up. Here’s a link to this delightful song from my childhood. I am sharing it along with a warning. It WILL get stuck in your head and you WILL want to sing along. So click at the risk of your own sanity, or to prove me wrong, whichever one works for you.
How fun was that?
Now to get that song out of your head, here’s one by Rain Perry. It’s the theme song for “Life Unexpected” which is kind of a sappy tv show with a very far-fetched story line, but also some amazing sob-worthy moments. And obviously a great theme song.
A couple of days ago, Michele at Life As A Garden ….(she has a beautiful blog – you should check it out) (go ahead, I’ll wait right here)…..wrote this comment on one of my posts:
“You could be talking about rocks and I would find the reading interesting and entertaining.”
After reading this one lovely little sentence there were so many thoughts tumbling around in my head that I was unable to form a coherent reply. Although that’s nothing new.
I love getting comments, by the way, which I read mostly on my phone, thinking I will go back to them later when I’m on my laptop and reply to them properly. But time goes by and I don’t get around to it and I feel bad about that, so I try to convince myself that the commenter by now has totally moved on and maybe doesn’t even remember what he or she said, or more likely who I am, and how embarrassing would it be to post a reply now, RIGHT?? So it’s not personal. It’s just me being a super procrastinator.
But back to those tumbling thoughts I mentioned. Here’s a few of the highlights.
1. Holy cow, somebody finds me interesting and entertaining. Yay!
2. Huh – she’s right. I rarely write about anything earth shatteringly important.
3. And, I’m not about to start doing so any time soon, or most likely ever.
4. Because my best posts are quite often about completely stupid things.
5. Hey! Wait a minute! I have a story about rocks!
Way back in 1969 or somewhere thereabouts, my dad was Reeve of our little Ontario township and got invited to go to a Good Roads Convention in Alberta, all the way at the other end of the country. He and mom decided it would be a great idea to take their three daughters on a road trip. We would travel to the convention, and then continue on all the way to the west coast. We were all excited to see the Pacific Ocean for some strange reason which totally escapes me now.
We borrowed my brothers car, because he was a great mechanic and always had cars that could be trusted to drive clear across countries getting great gas mileage and not breaking down. For me, travelling has always been something one endures in order to leave one place and arrive at a completely different place. I’m getting better at enjoying the journey, but not much. I should have taken lessons from my mother when I had the chance.
She loved every single minute in that car, pouring over road maps and reading aloud every sign we passed, calculating how far we’d go and where we’d stop for breaks and gas and where we’d sleep. She wrote down what we spent and the weather we encountered and what we had for breakfast, for all I know. And every time she stepped foot out of the car, she picked up a souvenir rock.
We were all encouraged to appreciate and exclaim over the special characteristics of each unique chunk of the landscape that mom tucked away in the trunk or under the seats or in the glove compartment all the way to the coast and back. I thought she should write on them so she’d remember where they came from but she said that would spoil them. I didn’t know that was possible, but I guess that’s how you spoil a rock.
The other thing we collected was a glass bottle full of Pacific Ocean water, complete with some kind of goopy green seaweed and a few shells and some sand. If we had only kept the bottle sealed we might still have it hanging around somewhere looking all murky and mysterious. But a couple of weeks after returning home we realized it smelled really bad and dumped it down the laundry tub drain.
You may be wondering what mom did with all those precious rocks she collected, and the truth is, I’m wondering too. I’m wondering if the fun was in the collecting and she really had no firm plan for them at all. Maybe she lost track of their numbers or just got tired of hauling them out of the car when we were unpacking. Or she may have meant to go back for the rest of them and never got around to it. (I did get a few of her genes).
My brother brought dads car back and picked up his own and drove it home. He probably took it to a car wash to clean it off and vacuum it out, because it wasn’t too long before we got his phone call, wanting to know why the hell his car was full of rocks.
Well you really couldn’t pretend not to know. We told him they were moms, and he should bring them back, because she worked so hard to gather them up and haul them thousands of miles. But Dad told him to just throw them out, so that’s what he did.
The funny thing is I don’t know where the rest of them ended up – did mom take any of those rocks out of the car? She certainly never mentioned them again in all her ‘wonderful trip’ stories. I guess it’s just one of our family mysteries which will remain forever unsolved because probably no one but me even remembers it. Hey, it’s a story about rocks. I didn’t say it was going to be exciting.
Anyway, thank you Michele for your inspirational comment. If you never say anything to me again for fear of getting me started, I totally understand.