Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Word: Tickety-boo



tickety-boo

[tik-i-tee-boo]

adjective, Chiefly British Informal.
1. fine; OK.

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                Everything was fine. The sun was shining.  Birds sang in the trees.  Squirrels ran around the ground, looking for seeds or nuts.  People walked through the park, enjoying the bright summer's day.  Yes, everything was wonderful.
                Just because he had lost his job, didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the day.  He had hated his job anyway.  He had even started to consider looking for something else.  No, losing his job was nothing to worry about.  Although, he had good co-workers, and his boss was fairly reasonable.  But still.  He was just fine with getting fired.  He really was.
                His girlfriend may have dumped him recently, but that was fine to.  He did not let it get him down in the slightest.  There was no reason to.  He’d had other girlfriends before, and he never mourned their loss for very long, and this one would be no different.  She could be annoying sometimes anyway.  So what if she was an amazingly beautiful, intelligent woman.  He could do better.  Somehow.  He was sure of it.  He was just fine with losing her, since it meant the opportunity to find someone even better.  Besides, it meant that he wouldn’t have to buy the very expensive diamond ring he was planning on getting, which was always good.  He really was just fine with it.
                His apartment building may have been shut down, but that was hardly his fault.  The building was run down anyway.  Really, it was simply unsafe.  Getting kicked out by the city might have been the best thing for everyone.  Just because it was the cheapest place he could get did not make any difference at all.  He was now homeless and unable to get a new place to live due to not having a job, but he had always wanted to go camping anyway.  That was all fine with him. 
                The car crash hadn’t gotten his spirits down the day it happened, and it wasn’t going to bother him now.  His car was old anyway.  It had been costing him more to keep it running than it had been to simply get a new one.  Just because it was one of the most fuel efficient cars around meant nothing.  Once he found a new job, he could get a hybrid, which was just as good, really.  And the accident itself was no problem either.  It wasn’t like it was his fault or anything.  Well, the insurance company—and court—said it was, but he knew it wasn’t, and that was what mattered.  No, he would not let that ruin his perfect day.
                Just because he had a few problems to deal with would not bother him.  He would deal with each problem and everything would be good.  He would find a new job.  Get a new place to live.  Buy a new car.  Maybe even find a new girlfriend.  Until then, the sky was bright and warm, the birds were singing, and life was happening all around him.
                And everything was just fine.
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 Remember, if life's looking down, always look on the bright side of life.

Monday, May 23, 2016

Word: Jimjams



jimjams

[jim-jamz]
noun, ( used with a plural verb) Slang.
1. extreme nervousness; jitters.
2. delirium tremens
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             Oh god, why did I agree to this?  I hate blind dates.  Not that I’ve ever been on one.  Or any date at all, but still.  I hate the idea of them.  Oh god, I shouldn’t have come.  Why did I come?  Am I sweating?  I’m probably all sweaty and gross and she’ll run away at the first sight of me.  Oh man, what if she’s ugly?  Or worse, what if she’s really good looking?  What do I do then?  I have no idea how to talk to pretty girls.  Why’d I come here?  Oh god, people are looking at me.  Why are they looking at me?  Is there something wrong with my clothes?  I bet there is.  I bet I look ridiculous.  Or maybe it’s not my clothes.  Maybe it’s me.  Do I look funny?  Is there something wrong with my hair.  Oh god, stop shaking.  Why is my leg shaking like that?  Stop it!  Oh man, my hands are soaked.  What if she wants to shake hands?  She’s be horrified by my hands sweat. 
                Huh?  Someone just called me, right?  I don’t know anyone here.  Who is…oh dear god, it’s her.  Oh man, oh man, oh man, she’s gorgeous.  What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?  Should I say something?  I think I’m supposed to say something.  Oh man, why’s she have to be so damn beautiful?  I might be able to do something if she wasn’t so good.  Oh man, she’s talking to me.  She probably expects an answer right?  My name?  Wait…what’s my name again?
                Oh god, I can’t remember my name.  Why can’t I remember my name?  I have amnesia…oh, wait, no, I remember it now.  Okay, okay, I can do this.  I can make it through this, I know I can.
Oh god I can’t do this.  Why did I think I can do this?  I was stupid to agree to this.  Oh god, she wants me to say things.  What do I say?  Just say something.
                Oh god, I think I said the wrong thing.  That was definitely the wrong thing.  Oh man, why’s I say the wrong thing?  Wait, she’s laughing.  That’s good, right? No, she might be laughing at me.  Laughing at sweaty, stuttering me.  That’s probably what she’s doing.  But what if she’s not?  That’s…that’s good, right? 
                Wait, did she just call me cute?  She did.  She definitely said I was cute.  What does that mean?  Cute like a child?  Cute like good looking?  Did I act cute?  I don’t think I acted cute.  Wait, what if that’s a bad thing?  Like, cute in a bad way.  Can cute be bad?  I think it’s pretty much always a good thing.  Unless she doesn’t mean it.  She seems like she means it.  At least, I think she seems like she means it.  It’s hard to tell.
                Oh, is it time to go already?  How did that happen?  I didn’t think I was here that long.  Hold on, what’s she doing?  What’s she writing?  Is…is this?  Is this her phone number?  It is, isn’t it?  She actually gave me her number.  How in the world did I pull that off?
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Can't say I've ever been in a situation like this before.  Of course, that has more to do with the lack of female attention in my life than anything else....yeah, I...I don't really go on dates....at all...Yeah.

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Word: Panjandrum



              

panjandrum

[pan-jan-druh m]
noun
1. a self-important or pretentious official.

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               The error once again popped up on the tiny screen.  The same one that had the last three times Jenny tried running the balding man’s credit card through. 
                “I-I’m really sorry, sir, but it’s not working.”  She said.
                “What?”  The man roared.  “What do you mean it’s not working?” 
                “I’m sorry, but it’s just not going through.”
                “Listen here, girl, you will make it work, and then you will give me a discount for this outlandish treatment!”
                “I-I’m really sorry, sir, but I’m not sure—“
                “It doesn’t matter what you think!  Do you have any idea who I am?”
                Jenny was absolutely terrified.  She did not, in fact, know who she was talking to.  But from the way he acted, she should.  Her mind ran through the possibilities.  He wasn’t anyone nationally famous, that was certain.  Could he have been a local celebrity?  Maybe someone with an important office?  She didn’t want to offend the man any more than she already had.  But, then again, she was just a rookie cashier.  She couldn’t hand out any discounts, no matter who the person was and why it was demanded. 
                “I-I’m sorry, but—“
                “Listen here, young lady, the only things I want to hear coming from your mouth are yes, sir, and I’m sorry, sir.  Do you even understand how important I am?  Why, I bet I could get you fired if I wanted to!”
                Jenny was in a blind panic.  She did not want to get fired.  If she got fired because of one mistake, her parents would be furious.  Not to mention her brother would never let her live it down. 
                “I’m really sorry.”  She said.
                “That’s one.”  The man growled.
                “But I really can’t give you a discount  I’m not allowed to.”
                “Do I look like I care?”  His voice probably reached the neighboring stores.  “I treatment befitting a man of my position.”
                “So, uh, what position would that be?”  The question was asked by one of Jenny’s coworkers, Josh.  He was not exactly an old hat, but he had at least been working at the store a year, so he knew a lot more about how to handle bad customers much better than jenny did.
                “I’ll have you know I am an officer of the court.”
                “So, what, like a judge or something?”
                “No.  In many ways I’m even more important than the judge.  I am the County Court Clerk.” The man puffed out his chest with pride at the title.  Jenny was dumbfounded.  It was no wonder she hadn’t heard of him.
                “So you’re the guy who takes the money from traffic tickets, right?”  Josh asked.
                “That is only one aspect of my job.  I am the one responsible for organizing the entire court docket.  Without me, there would be no court in session in the entire county.  No court, no justice.  That is makes me far more important than any judge.”
                “Huh.”  Josh said.  “If you’re so important then I wonder why my Uncle Benny hasn’t mentioned you.”
                “I don’t care about your uncle.  I care that you treat me with the respect I deserve, and get me my discount for compensation for her mistakes.”
                “Well, first of all, she’s not allowed to give discounts.  Before you ask, neither am I.  Only our boss can do that.  And for the screw up, let me take a look.”
                Josh went over and ran the clerk’s card again. Just as before, the same error came up.  Josh looked at the card for a moment after seeing the message.
                “Yeah, hate to say it, but it’s not her fault.  It’s the card.  It’s—“
                “I don’t care what excuse you have.  It’s your fault, not mine, and therefore I demand a discounted price.  For someone like me, that’s hardly unreasonable.  Now, if you can’t get me what I want, then go get someone who can.”
                “I really doubt our boss our boss will give a discount for giving us an expired credit card.  Also, just so you know, remember my Uncle Benny?  He’s the county judge.”
                “What?”  The man asked, encompassing both of Josh’s statements with one question.
                “Oh yeah, my uncle’s the Honorable Judge Benjamin Samson.  You probably know him.  But he’s never mentioned you once.”  The man looked visibly flustered by that revelation.  “Now, as for your card, it expired last month, so yeah, it’s no good any more.  You have to get a new one.  So you either give the young lady here a different card, or try cash or something.”
                The man grumbled but gave Jenny a new credit card.  She made sure this one was valid before running it.  The newer card went through without a problem.
                “So, your uncle is really a judge?”  Jenny asked when the clerk had left with his items.
                “Oh yeah, sure.  Although, I was lying about Uncle Benny never mentioning that guy.  He really hate the big blowhard.”   
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 There's lots of stories like this on the internet.  Seriously, people like this are everywhere and it suck for the people behind the counter.  If you're one of these people, you really need to chill out.  Just take a deep breath and think if what's going in is really worth getting upset over.

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Word: Cunctator





cunctator

[kuhngk-tey-ter]
noun
1. a procrastinator; delayer.

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                “Billy, have you done your homework yet?”
                “Not yet mom!”  Billy called back through the closed door.
                “Well, make sure it gets done!”
                “Sure thing!”
                Billy rolled his eyes.  He would do his homework when he was good and ready to do it.  At that moment though, he had more important things to do. 
                Her name was Cindy, and she lived three towns over.  Even so, things between them had gotten pretty heavy.  Well, as heavy as two teenagers chatting online could get anyway.
                They were currently in the middle of a particularly engaging chat session.  Billy was even waiting for the chance to take their relationship to the next level: video chatting.  His friends had warned him against this, of course.  They said Cindy might not be a 16 year old girl like she said she was.  She could be an old guy sitting in a basement somewhere.  Billy was certain she was the genuine article though.  She had sent him her picture, and when he searched for it online, it proved to be unique.  That was proof enough for him.  She was also really, really pretty. 
                During their chat, he saw it.  A perfect chance to pop the question.  He eagerly type out his request to Skype with her.  Before he could hit the enter key though, a loud knocking interrupted him.
                “Billy, are you doing your homework yet?”  His mom asked from the other side of the door.
                “No, not yet.”  Billy admitted.  He had considered telling her was indeed doing homework, but opted against it.  She would tell he was lying.  She always knew. 
                “Why not?”
                “Because I’m busy, mom!”  He shouted.
                “Busy doing what?”
                “Stuff.”
                “What kind of stuff?”
                “Important stuff.” A brief pause.
                “All right, have it your way.  I’ll give you twenty more minutes to finish whatever it is your doing.  After that, you had better be doing homework.”
                Another eye roll.  She being unreasonable again.  It wasn’t like math or history would be changing any time soon.  Cindy was way more important.  He could actually see her.  Well, he would once he started video chatting with her.  He would even be able to meet her in person.  He just needed a car.  And a driver’s license.  But once he had those he would make meeting Cindy his top priority. 
                Unfortunately, thanks to his mom’s interruption, the moment had passed.  He had lost his chance to ask for the coveted video chat.  He deleted his question and replaced it with an apology, explaining the reason for the delay in his response.  Cindy seemed to accept it.  She was great.  And really pretty, too. 
                Billy looked for any opportunity to ask her to video chat with him, but none came.  He didn’t mind too much.  There would be other opportunities to ask. 
                “Homework?”  Came his mom’s voice from the other side of the door.
                Billy started to panic.  He looked at the time.  Sure enough, twenty minutes had passed since she last checked in on him.  He gave a parting word to Cindy and scrambled to find a book.  His mom did not like his silence. 
                “All right, that’s it.”  She said.  The door opened, and his mom came in, not looking very happy.
                “M-mom!”  Billy cried out.
                He tried to get her to leave, but she remained firmly planted in his bedroom.  It only took her a second to see what he had been doing.  She was not happy with him, and was quite ready to voice her displeasure.  Billy slumped on his bed and waited for Hurricane Mom to pass.  He already knew what the problem was.  The problem was that she just didn’t get it.  How could she?  She was a mom.
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There are few things more important to a teenage boy than a teenage girl.  Food is probably one of them, but not by much.  Anyone who's been a teenage boy will understand this perfectly well. I'm sure teenage girls have a much different point of view on the matter.