Ok. I’m crying “uncle” here. Enough with the misuse of apostrophes already! C’mon. It’s really not that hard.
- In contractions (don’t, won’t, can’t)
- To show possession (Mike’s, Sally’s, John’s), with one exception. “It’s” is the contraction for “it has” or “it is”. No apostrophe is used to show possession with “it”.
Maybe I’m in the minority, but I can’t understand how so many people are getting this wrong lately. I see otherwise seemingly intelligent people writing sentences like:
“There were three horse’s in the stable.”
My brain abruptly stops reading. It’s a shame too because it’s been on a lovely pace where the words have been flowing through my mind like a gentle breeze, and just-like-that, I’m snapped back into reality.
Then, as if I’m not upset enough to have been rudely interrupted, my mind is left to wondering what did three horses leave in the stable and why did they leave it there? What is going on here? It makes no sense!
Now, I’m forced to re-read the sentence only to realize that the author intended to convey that there were three horses inside the stable. They didn’t necessarily keep anything there.
Why? How is this so difficult to get right? I don’t understand. Even the flimsiest of the free spell/grammar-checking programs I could find, flagged this as being incorrect.
Don’t even get me started on the apostrophes used in conjunction with acronyms. There were two VP’s in the room. Again? Why are things being left places? Now, if you meant there were two VPs inside the room you should have said that.
I am not a fanatic. I know that I am of average intelligence and that my grammar isn’t perfect. However, if we begin to let this simple rule slide then what’s next? Allowing the interchangeable use of to, two, and too or there, they’re, and their?
I can’t wait for the day when I come across a sentence like He explained that the car left behind was they’re’s. You’ll know when I do, because the tagline for the news story will be:
You can help stop the cruel misuse of apostrophes by bookmarking and frequenting grammarbook.com
To many people, a deck of tarot cards represents something just a little less sinister than evil. However, a quick check of Wikipedia shows us that these cards came about in the 15th century and were originally used for playing games. Not unlike our playing cards of today. It wasn’t until a few hundred years later that they were used for mystic divination.
When you mention tarot I think most, if not all, people think of gypsies, glass bead curtains, crystal balls, and smoky incense. I must admit, the image is a little romantic and attractive.
An exotic woman clad in brightly woven clothing glides across the dimly lit room. She explains to the teenaged girl sitting at the table that she can help her to see her future. The question must be asked with sincerity and intent. All answers are held in these mystical cards. And so they are, in a way.
The tarot helps me organize my thoughts about a particular subject and the cards themselves represent different angles from which to view them. In other words, they help me think. Nothing magical or occult. Confused?
There are scores of spreads (layouts) , each particularly good at thinking through a question. You may use a simple past-present-future spread to think about just that. The past, the present, and the future. You may choose a different spread for a question related to finances.
Each position in a spread asks you think about a specific part of the question asked within the spread. For instance, the card in position three in the Celtic Cross spread represents the root cause of the problem.
Finally, each card has a specific meaning. They also have different and special meanings if they’re dawn in a reverse position. Learning them takes some time. I still need to refer to a book from time-to-time.
So to put this all together, if I had a relationship-related question I might choose to use a Celtic cross spread, where the card in the third position relates to the root cause of the problem or matter. I draw the Four of Cups card in that position. This card tells me that my problem may be centered around a longing for that which is indefinable and ignoring the reality. Hmmmm. I think about that and it could be true. My limerence often times leads me to this place, and I am in a strong limerent state right now.
However, this reading is dependent upon all other cards in the spread and what they’re projecting. The meaning of a card can be slightly altered, weakened, or strengthened by the presence of another card in a complimentary or opposing position.
What this does is force you think about different possibilities and outcomes for the problem on which you are meditating. Very handy. It sparks the imagination and sometimes a revelation. Often I come up with the best and most creative solutions to a problem after consulting the cards.
This is why I love the tarot. Well. That and the fact that the artwork is delightful!
Interested in the tarot? There are several different decks to choose from. You need to research them and see which deck speaks to you. I use the Druidcraft tarot.
My commute to work takes about 45 minutes. It’s pretty equally divided between highway and town streets. There’s relatively little traffic and I’ve been driving the route for more than ten years. It’s safe to say that one part of my brain can drive it, leaving other parts for day dreaming or just thinking.
For some reason today I was thinking about Dr Seuss books. I adored them as a child. The silly made-up words and the colorful illustrations were too much fun to pass up. Even today, just a few years later, children still laugh at their parents as they get tongue-tied while reading the stories. It’s a simple joy that every child should get to experience.
Anyway, I got to wondering with what Seuss character could I most identify ?, and, well, the thought process went something like this:
The Whos from Whoville: OK. They’re musical, industrious, hardworking, and spiritual. And, I do like to sing. But, how would one find privacy in a place like Whoville? Nope. I could never be a Who. Not even Cindy-Lou Who (who was no more than two). And don’t get me started on all of that noise, noise, noise, noise. On the other hand, they do have Who Hash.
The Grinch: There are a few things I can identify with the Grinch. I think that many times I would prefer to live alone in an inaccessible place with just my dog for company. And, occasionally I do puzzle and puzzle until my puzzler is sore. However, I could never, ever crack a whip at Max, and I don’t think I have the strength of ten Grinches (plus two).
Max: Loveable, humorous, joyful. How could you not fall in love with that pup? Loyal and faithful, even if his owner’s heart is two sizes too small. Just the thought of him makes me smile. But he doesn’t quite fit either.
Horton: Horton kept doing what he believed in. Even when everyone thought he was crazy, he persevered and finally overcame his dissenters without the use of violence. I tend to attempt the same. He’s the one who taught us that a person is a person, no matter how small. However, I don’t know if I have his level of faith in all of humanity as it were. No. I think Horton is a much better person than me.
The Cat In The Hat : To me, The Cat is reminiscent of the mischief my siblings and I would get into when left alone for a couple of hours by our parents. The sun did not shine, it was too wet to play, so [we’d sit] in the house all that cold, cold, wet day.
It also brings back that horrible feeling when the panic would set in once we realized that our parents were due home at any minute and the house was a wreck. We had one sister who always played the part of the fish. She was the constant that reminded us that we’d pay the price when mom got home. We’d set off at a frantic pace to clean and somehow seemed to pull it off – every time. However, I had my suspicions that mom and dad knew all about it and just smiled to themselves when it happened.
Marco: You remember Marco. Sure you do. He’s the kid that saw all of that stuff on Mulberry Street. I think I can most relate to Marco. When I’m doing menial daily tasks my mind tends to wander. It starts out relatively innocent, but the story builds, and it goes off onto to random tangents. Soon, I’m relating seemingly unrelated things and the excitement builds with each passing thought.
The thoughts then become a noisy parade of colorful characters marching through my brain. And it becomes a wonderful story that no one can beat, when I say that I saw it on Mulberry Street. It all finally builds to a fervor when I decide to share my thoughts with a friend.
But as soon as I think about sharing it, the crescendo fades away and I realize that I’m not able to explain my thoughts and how they interconnect. Even if I could, would he believe me? In the end I settle for something far less appealing, but nonetheless more believable.
So that is the character I think I identify with most. Marco, bored as he walks to school (drives to work) and entertains himself with a fantastical story that he doesn’t know how to share with the rest of the world.
Yep. McDonald’s. The drive-thru to be specific. Several times a week I stop at McDonald’s to get my favorite morning beverage. This particular location is usually busy early in the day, especially the drive-thru. However they’re an efficient team, so cars move quickly through the line and the wait is minimal.
One day last week, even though I was running slightly behind schedule, I decided to stop to get a head start on my caffeine intake. I was the fifth car in line who hadn’t yet placed an order and there were at least four cars in front of me who had. Things weren’t moving as quickly as they normally do. As a matter of fact, they weren’t moving at all.
I looked at the clock. One minute had passed already and no movement. Was I going to be late for work? My mind began to run. Two minutes with no progress. Damn! Should I pull out of the line and head to work?
Then the sun peeked out from behind a cloud and warmed my face through the window. It was nice to feel the sun. In this area we had a dark and frigid winter, and a cold, wet spring. We hadn’t had many chances to enjoy sunlight in the past five months.
I closed my eyes to take in the energy the sun was directing my way, and my mind began to relax. Did it really matter if I was late for work? No. I’m never late and my boss isn’t an ogre so there were no real worries there. Parking might be a problem. But, I was wearing sneakers, the weather was clearing, and it was warming. So what if I had to park further away?
I realized at that point that these anxieties were self-imposed and for no good reason. I made a conscious effort to relax and became aware of a bird singing in the landscaping. I could smell the freshly brewed coffee. Music, as ever, was playing in the background. I was lighter somehow.
It felt like I had been in that state for a long time, when it came to mind that I had a responsibility to those behind me to pay attention to the line ahead of me. I opened my eyes just as the line began to move and things started to run smoothly once again.
Even though it felt like forever, I glanced at the clock to find that my moment of zen had really only lasted a minute or so. I soon placed my order and minutes later I was pulling into my favorite parking spot at work, a little early even.
As I made my way to the front door, I thought about how that change in attitude had impact on the balance of my day. I turned to the sun and thanked Ra for his healing energy. I knew it was going to be a good day – no matter what. And so it was.
If I could have an audio device implanted in my head, just so I could always listen to music, I would. In fact, there’s constantly a song booted-up in my brain and ready to play whenever I need it.
I believe music to be one of the top three gifts bestowed on us. As the gap between humans and the other living beings on the earth continues to widen, music is one of those commonalities that will always bind us. I’m not sure there would ever be a day when humans would no longer feel the connection to Mother Nature while listening to birdsong, but I am sure that if it does happen, it becomes a world that I no longer want to live in.
As a child I sang constantly. I’m no prodigy, I can tell you that. But, it’s something I enjoy and still do to this day. Whether I’m home, in the car, or in my office at work, if I’m alone, I’m singing.
I played piano, trumpet, and French horn. I sang in chorus and choir. I dabbled with the saxophone, clarinet, and flute. I tried percussion (I love percussion). Alas, I have neither the coordination nor the level of sustained concentration it takes to play drums. I always wanted to learn guitar, but never really got around to it – yet. It’s still in my plans.
Although I’m not accomplished in any of it, interaction with music is a staple of my life. No drama intended, but I sincerely believe that it’s a large part of my being. It sounds odd I know, but this is the way I processes and store data.
Music has always had a grip on my brain. If I need to remember something important, I try to associate it with a song. Some people store their memories by imagining placing them in rooms in a large house. I keep mine in a record store (remember those?).
Words are important to me. I take care in the way I use them and I expect my favorite musicians to do the same. If the lyrics in a song seem chaotic and thrown together without much thought or feeling, chances are that I won’t ever listen to it again.
That’s why genres such as pop, country, rap, and hip-hop do nothing for me. I can’t relate to being a teenager with lots of boy troubles. I never lost my dog. (OK, I did once. But that’s a story for a different time.) I didn’t grow up poor or in the inner-city. Songs in these genres sound hollow and unfulfilling to me somehow.
However, I can relate to “The Quest”; the search for one’s self, inner-turmoil, rebellion, self-reflection, etc. This is how I see most of the hard rock/metal genres and this is primarily what I listen to. I also consider blues music to have some of these same qualities, so I occasionally turn my satellite radio from Octane to Bluesville. These feel “full” and rewarding to me. They tell stories that I can relate to.
I can’t imagine a world without this wonderful and most effective way to communicate. Anyone, no matter their culture, can discern the emotion projected by a song, even if he/she doesn’t speak the language of the lyrics. We all speak the language of music.
Some of my favorite bands for their lyrics:
- Alice in Chains
- Black Sabbath
- Led Zeppelin
- Octane (local to Philadelphia)
- Pearl Jam
- Slipknot /Stone Sour/ Corey Taylor
- Sully Erna (Avalon)
These are the ramblings of a casual INFJ who has more limerent episodes than the government has narcissists . I get along with most, but only a select few really know me. I enjoy music, especially rock and metal. My interests are eclectic, as are my friends.
Symbology intrigues me. I look for and see patterns everywhere. I like to find the hidden meaning in things.
I’m pagan by nature, a romantic, and a dreamer. I believe that there is at least some good in most situations and people. However, I am not naive, I’m an optimist.
Forgiving and loyal to a fault, I don’t see the need to purposely perpetuate discord. Understanding the differences, I also know that compromise and harmony can always be reached, given enough time and interest in doing so.
I usually know what those around me are feeling, if not thinking. I almost always know when you’re lying to me, but am too non-confrontational to call you on it.
I have at least three stories going on in my head at any given point Most times the myriad of possible outcomes of a situation are more attractive to me than the details. Although I am neat and organized, important details can easily escape me. They’re just too monotonous to ponder for long.
I enjoy writing but am too self-conscious to share with others unless I can do it anonymously. This blog serves as my outlet. Thanks for hanging with me 🙂