A multi-part list by age, collected over years (note: it is intentional that these are all from different years and that things like gender and specific age aren’t given, just to further ensure anonymity).

8- and 9-year-olds:

“That’s really arrogant!” –in response to Purell’s claim that it can kill 99.9% of germs.

“I don’t need water…I’m a free rannnnnnnnnnge chicken!”–after the mom asked, “Do you want some water?”

Line from a book for fourth graders about a dog traveling w/Lewis and Clark: “New fur covered the scar where Seaman’s beaver wound had been.”

Me to student: “Have you ever been to Ellis Island?”                                               Student: “Well no but I have been to a golf course called Ellis Island mini-golf.”

Me to student: “Do you know what a terrace is?”                                                           Student: “Someone that kills people.”

Student, reading aloud: “The mariachi would never refuse her.”                                     Me: “…matriarch.”                                                                                                       Student: “Maybe they have a band.”

 

10- and 11-year-olds:

Student, examining pencil markings on the desk: “Hey, it looks like the breast cancer ribbon!”

Me to student: “An independent variable is a variable that you can manipulate.”         Student: “That’s not very nice to the variable.”

Student: “Can I do something funny to you?”                                                                 Me: “Uh, probably not.”                                                                                                 Student: “Oh, so you’re not a laughing kind of person?”

Student, drawing a cartoon person: “My people skills have really improved!”

Student, talking about daylight savings: “I like the fall back. The dark is fun. (Pause) I’m not trying to be a downer or anything.”

Student, working on math definitions: “Sum–the answer to an addiction problem.”

Student, looking at messy handwriting: “I think I was on crack. A crack. In the table.”

Student, being tutored via Skype: “Brace yourself, Claire.”                                               Me: “What?”                                                                                                               Student (opening a new tab): “I’M NOT GOING TO BE ABLE TO SEE YOUR WHOLE FACE!”

 

I tend toward the overly ambitious and also procrastinatory when it comes to costumes. Sometimes the best ones come from waiting until the last minute and seeing what there is in the costume box (yes, I have a costume box. I enjoy a good theme party and also not getting rid of things).

In the end I was BMO from Adventure time, and spent only $7.

All of the things I wanted to be for Halloween:

  1. A butterfly or fish caught in a net
  2. Mrs. Frizzle
  3. Fruit on the bottom yogurt
  4. A menagerie
  5. Guess Who Cards
  6. Panda nesting dolls

It’s never too early to start for next year!

I’m doing a reading this Sunday that’s organized around the theme of technology…so I’m HOARDING all my metaphors for then!

Or you might say I’m bookmarking them…but that would be fairly uninspired. Let’s say I’m dropping a pin on each one. Is that one of those metaphors that has bounced back (PINGED BACK) and forth from analog to technological back to analog? That is, did people literally stick pins in things that they wanted to remember, and that led to the Google maps function of dropping a pin in (on?) something? 

And if so, do we use the phrase “dropping a pin”/”putting a pin in it” differently than we used to when we were thumbtacking things to bulletin boards or whatever? I mean: is this like translating something from English to Latin and then back to English again?

The other night one of my roommates was complaining (rightfully!) about auto-play videos on news sites. I was in the other room so I didn’t see if it was an auto-play video that actually showed the news, or an ad. Either way, it’s intrusive, and according to what I’ve read, not going to disappear no matter how much we bemoan it.

A few days later my other roommate went to a website to try to find information about internet rates (or something along those lines) and a chat window popped up in the bottom corner of his screen with the message “Hi! What can I help you with?” He recoiled and, I think, wanted to slam his laptop shut. Those chat windows–which always seem to pop up when you’re surfing somewhere you don’t want to be on in the first place, like an insurance website–make me much more jumpy than auto-play videos, because they present the illusion of requiring interaction, rather than just requesting viewing. If a video on auto-play is someone knocking on your door repeatedly, or turning up to tell you something, the pop-up chat box is someone coming over Kramer-style and refusing to leave.

For my part I never mind when videos auto-play IF they also auto-mute…just as I wouldn’t turn away a mime if one showed up at my apartment door (someone test me on that, please). The chat box is more invasive. I already hate it enough when my phone rings–and I only know it’s ringing if I happen to be looking at it; CLEARLY I keep it on silent–I don’t need another source of uncertainty (as Dorothy Parker supposedly said when the phone rang, “What fresh hell is this?”).

 

…my videos aren’t on auto-play, right? I wouldn’t want to breach your castle walls.

From the brilliant Andre 3000:

“If you got riches you got glitches. If you got glitches in your life computer turn it off and then reboot and then you’re back on”

(from “Millionaire” with Kelis)

A sampling of how this week’s technology metaphor, “Leveling up,” (birthplace: video games) is used across genres….

Leveling Up: Career Advancement for Software Developers”

Leveling up. Getting even with your friends in terms of the blood alcohol level.”

“In order to level up you need to work out for an hour a day, save a quarter of your paycheck, and read a book a week.”

Urban Dictionary tells me it’s also used as a reference to tripping on mushrooms, and that that’s a wink to Mario…but doesn’t a mushroom in Mario world cause a power up, not a level up? Mixed metaphors! There is no leveling up in Mario, at least in the versions I’ve played.

Powering up” would definitely make more sense as a coffee reference. You can attain it over and over again and it doesn’t stem from or lead to any permanent gain in experience or ability.

 

PS …stem from. I might switch to botany metaphors after a while here.

 

PPS I wonder if Windows XP was an attempt at making a gaming reference?

I know I’ve heard multiple people–therapists and others–say this, but trying to Google it only yields responses about internet addiction.

“Going offline”

…meaning taking a break (not from the literal internet, just from thinking), shutting down, quieting.

I don’t know if this is a mixed metaphor or not. I’ve heard people give it both positive and negative connotations, but more frequently negative ones–like your brain panicking and shutting down (note: “shutting down” is a much better metaphor for the negative version of taking a break from thinking). Assigning negative connotations makes sense in that no one wants to be forced offline, but competes with the idea that literally going offline is something that most therapists would probably endorse. If that’s the case–that leaving the internet is positive for the mind–then the metaphor should have positive connotations.

…I’m very tired. Going offline.

I thought I loved enjambment. But I only learned as I was writing this that enjambment is ANY instance of a line break that occurs in the middle of a sentence (and with no punctuation, i.e. the line doesn’t end with a comma or semicolon or dash indicating a pause/break). How unfathomably boring! Is there a separate term for what I *thought* enjambment was–a line break or pause that creates a double meaning? i.e., one meaning is suggested by the first half of the line/sentence/lyric and then turned on its head by the completion of the thought? Like a periodic sentence, but more explicitly making a u-turn, not just saving the end of the sentence for emphasis.

 

The kind of thing I’m thinking of, lyric edition:

Rainer Maria (the 90s band, not the poet…IRONICALLY):

I want to go too far

away

places

(I want to go too far; I want to go too far away; I want to go to far away places)

-“Planetary”

 

Not tonight

Not ever again

Will I take it

Not tonight

Not ever again

For granted

(Not ever again will I take it; not ever again will I take it for granted)

-“CT Catholic”

 

Jonatha Brooke 

I am leaving because I love you

I am leaving because I don’t

And I am hoping you will follow

And I’m praying that you won’t

Let me go

(And I’m praying that you won’t let me go; and I’m praying that you won’t (follow me). Let me go!)

-“Linger”

 

Or: Instagram bio I saw somewhere:

Crazy (.) cat lady.

 

The enjambment version of fortunately/unfortunately?

She’s so mello…dramatic.

How are you doing? Oh, I’m great…ful that at least one thing is going well.

I checked out about 8 books on epidemiology and illness from the library and have been working my way through them (in general the ones about infectious and zoonotic diseases are the most interesting). Most recently I finished The End of Illness, which I didn’t feel particularly strongly about–too prescriptive to hold my interest, but not devoid of interesting content.

Near the end of the book the author writes, “…sleep acts like a built-in technology app for our brains, cleaning out old files and prepping us to upload new ones.” 

Is that really what an app does? It sounds more like a defragging program or a hard-drive cleaner. I kind of expected him to go on to say that digestion is like an app, or breathing, or something–not that any of those make much sense, but what device has only ONE app?–but instead he moves to talking about how we need breaks from our technological devices (except our sleep “app” of course).

 

In reading about disease and the brain and body, the two most common analogies I see are

immune system fighting disease = a military fighting enemy invaders

and

the brain = a computer hard drive

 

The epidemiology book that I most thoroughly enjoyed discusses the limitations/inaccuracies of the “war” metaphor for disease. I would like to see something similar for the “hard drive” metaphor of the brain. It’s not an inaccurate analogy; it’s just become so embedded that we don’t notice potential flaws in it.