The Vine: August 7, 2003
Hey Sars,
The letter about “free rein” struck a chord with me. I frequently twitch when I hear or read folks twisting a saying because of phonetic similarities. Some I’ve noted recently:
“Shoe-in” vs. “shoo-in”
“Mute point” vs. “moot point”
“For all intensive purposes” vs. “for all intents and purposes”
“Suppose to” vs. “supposed to”
“Spitting image” vs. “spit and image”
The last one is questionable. I’ve read the “spit and image” in older texts, and it makes more sense to me from a logic standpoint. However, I got into an argument about it with an ex, and after research, it was inconclusive. Seemed “spitten image” predated both. Any insight?
Thanks for including grammar issues in your column!
Natty the Nitpicker
Dear Nat,
Garner has the following wisdom on the subject of “spitting image”:
[The expression] is actually a corruption of spit and image, from the notion of God’s using spit and dust to form the clay to make Adam in his image. As far back as the early 1800s, the phrase the very spit of was used in this sense…. But around the turn of the 20th century, spitting image (or spittin’ image) appeared. Though originally an error, it’s so common today — some 50 times more common than spit and image — that most dictionaries fully countenance it without recording spit and image.
So the only one you mention that isn’t evidently an expression at all is “spitten image,” which struck me as similar to the variant on the participle “fucking” we used to use back in grade school, i.e. “fucken asshole.” But nowhere I looked lists “spitten” as correct, or even a variant, so that one’s out. “Spit and image” is okay, and more reasonable etymologically, but it’s no longer in widespread use, so unless you want to uncorrect people who correct you for using it, I’d just go with “spitting image” and save your energies for the fight against “would of.”
Hello Sars.
My husband and I have a problem. Okay, so some might say we have many problems, but currently we are obsessed with a problem of semantics, which we have both agreed to let you settle.
The background here is that one of our female mutual friends recently had a “romantic interlude of the sexual variety” with one of our male friends. The details are a little murky, but our female friend informed me that she had, at some point in the evening, performed oral sex, albeit not to completion. When I passed this news on to my husband, he disagreed with my word choice. He thought that “blow job” should be used to describe fellatio performed to completion, while “going down on” should be used for fellatio left unfinished, for whatever reason.
Seeking a compromise solution, we considered the appropriate vocabulary if the tables were turned and the man had performed oral sex on the woman. This was even worse. Word choice is always essential to convey the precise and appropriate meaning — any thoughts on how to get out of this thicket of oral sex terminology?
As you might have guessed, we have no lives. Also, as cat owners, we think the Hobe rocks — especially when he lets Little Joe hump him. See above, about the lack of lives or life (jointly).
Please help.
Sincerely,
A Most Cunning Linguist and a Fairly Cunning Spouse and Cat
Dear Lingo,
It’s important to have common interests. Hee.
Not everyone uses the same terms the same ways — viz. the continued wrangling over “hooking up,” which where I come from means “fooling around, but more than just kissing,” but which to a lot of people means “intercourse.” Even the correct spacing/punctation of the word “blowjob” itself is subject to debate: I write it as all one word (as Penthouse‘s editorial guidelines dictated), you write it as two (interestingly, Webster’s Collegiate agrees with you, but it didn’t show up as a definition until the tenth edition), others hyphenate it.
With that said, it’s my feeling that, once a penis goes into a mouth, it’s officially ruled a blowjob. I suppose I can see your husband’s point, if he’s claiming that the “blow” element is defined by the male act of climaxing and not by anything the job-giver gets up to down there, but I think it’s like the law, in that you have to look at the intent as well as the result. The idea is to get to completion, generally, even if it doesn’t end up happening — ditto “going down on,” regardless of the gender of the down on which you are going. Once you get down there, you’ve gone down, and what happens after that doesn’t dictate the definition.
The terminology of sex acts is just that, I think — descriptions of the acts themselves, not how well or badly they might go.
Dear Sars,
So. I’m applying to grad school this fall, and I’m a little worried about the writing part — the statement of purpose needed to get IN to grad school, and then all the writing DURING grad school. My fears may be unfounded, but there is a reason I took the GRE two days before they made the once optional writing assessment mandatory (that, and I love the little logic puzzles that were 80 percent of the old analytical section).
Now, I know I’m not the worst writer on the planet. For the last three semesters (I have a degree, but am changing fields and have been using my staff benefits to take some intro classes in the new field), I have had classes with a friend of mine, and her papers seriously suck. Seriously. I have actually laughed in her face while reading one (thankfully, she has a sense of humor).
My problem is not content; I know how to organize my thoughts and how to present them in a logical fashion, and I’m pretty sure I have interesting things to say. I think my problem is a general lack of style and flow. All of the writing I did for fun in high school and college was of the playwriting variety. Thus, I am used to writing “dialogue”-style, which is oodles of fun to write because people don’t speak in complete sentences or even with any semblance of order at all. Where randomness flourishes, I do too.
As a likely extension of the playwriting, I overuse parentheses and dashes — you know, and (you know). I have a sneaking suspicion that I could begin a new sentence rather than using a dash more often than not, but it kind of ruins the flow. I am also prone to convoluted sentence structure and stilted language because it sounds more academic-y, even though I know it takes away from the content. On the other hand, when I use shorter to-the-point sentences, my paragraphs sound chunky-clunky.
After all that exposition, my questions are these: Should I do anything about those parentheses and dashes? Are they acceptable or not, and in what quantity? How can I get rid of them? On a broader note, how does one develop the mysterious “flow”? I don’t aim to win any prizes with my writing, but I hope to go into academia, and when you only have a set amount of article space to say a whole lot of crap, every word counts.
Thanks,
My Paragraphs Want To Win Red Rover Against The Big Lug Chunk Who Keeps Breaking The Line
Dear Rover,
Every letter I run undergoes a clean-up to standardize it and make it easier to read; I only had to change a few things in yours, and all but one of those for formatting. Solid fundamentals, flawless spelling, firm tone — your writing is quite good.
A lot of people read Strunk & White and panic, because they think their prose isn’t concise enough, so they throw out all the structural techniques they usually use in favor of a string of short, flat, parody-of-Hemingway sentences. White’s advice in that regard is good, but it’s aimed more at people who don’t have a natural “ear” for writing, and as a result, people who do have that kind of ear often look at writing primers and overcorrect for problems they don’t actually have. If it takes a daisy chain of serial semi-colons to get your thought where it needs to go, use it; florid sentence structure only becomes a problem if it’s 1) confusing to the reader, 2) never varied within a paper, or 3) used incorrectly, so keep an eye on that as you proofread, but don’t whipsaw the other way and write in grunts, either. Trust that ear.
You already have it. Your sentence lengths and constructions vary; your letter is structured logically and doesn’t ramble; you don’t have hypocomma disorder; your level of diction is elevated but not stiff, and familiar without seeming flaky. My guess is that you read a lot, that you’ve absorbed the flow over time by seeing how others do it; that’s how it’s done, and you’ve already done it. You have the basics; don’t overthink the fine-tuning.
Hi Sarah,
Your site rocks. Thus, I would very much appreciate your perspective on a situation I’m in.
Here’s a bit of history. I’ve been dating my boyfriend C for a year and four months. He had just finished up the divorce before we met (the whole process took about a year). All divorces suck, but luckily his was a relatively easy one as divorces go, one of those “we married too young and now are different people” sort of things. Him and the ex (no kids) are cordial enough and have remained on okay terms. So here we are — in love, best friends, adore each other, getting engaged soon, et cetera. I know our timing together wasn’t exactly ideal, but it is what it is. This is not the problem.
His brother is getting married in two weeks, and all along we had planned to attend this wedding together. His brother’s to-be wife, A, has her own insecurity issues, and is apparently very peeved at C’s divorce. I think she’s probably angrier that he met me so soon rather than about the divorce itself. Why does she care so much? Who the heck knows? Anyway, to make her “point,” she invited C’s ex (M) to be in the wedding party. They were not especially close friends before this. The ex initially denied the invite, but due to guilt trips by A she’s now in the wedding.
All of this was unknown to me until last night. Apparently, C has been trying for months to talk to A, M, and his brother to get someone to back down, but apparently that didn’t work. Now he’s really mad at his ex for going along with this, and also at A for being such a bitch. His brother and parents don’t think it’s appropriate for M to be there either, but they also think that it’s the bride’s DAY to do what she wants, which apparently includes making a statement on this. For instance, she’s also insisting on writing in the wedding program that M is her sister-in-law, which she is not anymore, as they are divorced. (What is the right terminology, anyway?)
So last night, C asked me if I would mind not going with him. This would have been the first big family function we were to attend together, where I would meet a lot of his relatives for the first time, and it’s he said it’s not how he wants it to happen. He told me he would feel too uncomfortable all night with both me and the ex there, as well as worry that we will be too distracting from the actual wedding. Personally, I think it would only be weird for about ten minutes while everyone stares at me for a while, but it’s a wedding — there’s lots of other things to do and people will move on pretty quickly.
This hugely upsets me. He doesn’t even want to go anymore, but since it’s his brother and he’s also the best man, that’s not an option. He promises this won’t happen again. I love him and want to respect his opinion and do whatever will make him enjoy the wedding the most, but at the same time I’m so hurt by this. What do you think, Sarah? How big a deal do you think this is? Please send along any advice, perspective, thoughts, directions on how to bring myself back to reality, et cetera.
Sincerely,
Jules
Dear Jules,
I believe the correct terminology there is “ex-sister-in-law.” Would you like to hear the correct terminology for your boyfriend? Because I think you should, and I think you should share it with him. Loudly.
I don’t know why A has to turn her wedding into a referendum on C, I don’t know why M didn’t back out gracefully when she had the chance, and I don’t know why C’s brother didn’t put a leash on his bitch with this shit months ago, but it’s too late to kick some sense into any of them now — C is left to decide how to react. And from here, it doesn’t look like much of a decision. Either you both go to the wedding and deal in an adult fashion with a few moments of awkwardness that you had nothing to do with creating, or you both stay home and send a message about just how much bridezilla crap you intend to tolerate. And he’s the best man, so — that’s that. You both go. You smile. You let A soak in it. Done.
I don’t think C meant to hurt your feelings so badly. It’s an impossible situation, nobody on the other sides of it is willing to put his or her foot down with the bride or with M, and from his position in the middle, asking you to stay home probably seemed like the best solution to him. But it’s still unacceptable, and you need to tell him so — that the request makes you feel like he’s ashamed of you, like he doesn’t have your back, like a little awkwardness that’s someone else’s twatty fault is more important than your feelings.
Then tell him that you are going to that wedding. Don’t ask him. Don’t apologize. He goes, you go. Not negotiable. Mean it. It’s a pussy move he’s trying to pull, and if you let him get away with it, it won’t be the last time.
Hello!
I’m married, been with “Ray” for over ten years, everything’s peachy on that end. We bought a house a year ago, and asked his elderly dad (widowed, several states away) if he wanted to come live with us. I know what you’re thinking: “Why the eff would they do that?” His dad wasn’t doing well health-wise and financially, so now that we have the room, why not have him stay with us, he’ll save some money, we can make sure he’s eating regularly, et cetera. One year later, I am so regretting that decision.
I feel like he came into our home under false pretenses. The several times I had seen him before, he was pleasant and funny. Since he’s moved in, he’s morose and barely acknowledges my presence. His normal routine is eating, watching TV in his room, and doing crossword puzzles. That’s it. He rarely leaves the house and has no outside interests. Ray and I work full-time office jobs, and I come home to a kitchen with food miscellanea all over (kitchen counters and floor, dining table, family room if he decides to eat while, yes, watching TV). Ray does bathroom duty (a whole other mess), so we’re trying to deal, but I am beyond resentful at this point.
I try to bring up a minor subject with Ray, like “why doesn’t he wipe off a counter after spilling bean soup?” and Ray laughs and says “he’s always been like that.” But see, Ray’s Dad had Ray’s Mom to take care of him for so many years, she was a housewife and raised three kids and that was her more-than-full-time job. I already have a full-time job, and he is neither my husband nor my kid; he is a full-grown man who won’t moisten a sponge when the chili explodes in the microwave.
I can hear your answer: “Get a housecleaner! Problem solved! Next!” but we can’t afford it right now (maybe in a few months, once raises kick in). But it’s beyond “being messy,” it’s the impression that he has no respect for our home. I feel like he was dumped on us by Ray’s siblings (who both lived in the same city with him and ignored him) and I resist the urge to call them up daily in a fit of frothing rage. I feel like he couldn’t give two turds about what Ray and I go through to make sure he’s comfortable. I feel like he doesn’t like me and isn’t happy living here, and if he isn’t happy, why doesn’t he do something about it?
If this was a roommate, one could say “if you don’t like it, leave!” but could you say that to your father-in-law? If I’m too bitchy with Ray he gets defensive, so I get eggshelly and feel like I can’t suggest anything other than “maid.” But if he is so bleeping miserable here, then move back to where he was bleeping miserable before and give me my house back. If you were wishing I’d eventually come to a point, it would be: what would you do? Should I stick it out another year and/or ulcer? Demand he start pulling his own weight (like he probably did with Ray when Ray was living in his house)? Smother him with a pillow?
Waaah
Dear Waaah,
You need to talk to Ray. Now. You need to print out your letter and work from it — use it to put together “talking points” on the issue, schedule a time with Ray when you can both leave the house and spend a couple of hours discussing the problem, and put your cards on the table.
The main goal you should have with that conversation is to come to an understanding of the house rules as they apply to your father-in-law, to agree on who will enforce them and how, and to talk about where you see the situation going in the future. The fact that it’s not your father, but Ray’s, is a major part of your frustration here, and you should say as much — that you didn’t sign on for this, that you feel really powerless because neither Ray nor his dad seems to hear you. Make it clear that it’s not an ultimatum; you understand it’s not easy for Ray either, in the middle, but you want Ray to know how you feel too, and how you feel is that this is not working for you.
See what Ray says. Get his input. Make suggestions — that Ray needs to take the lead with his father and actually, you know, lead him towards a dishtowel now and then; that maybe his father would do better in a facility for seniors, or by getting counseling; that both of you could get more proactive about taking him out for activities or spending time with him, and see how it goes; that perhaps his father has a discretionary income that he could use to chip in on a maid; that kind of thing. Just discuss it to death and try to find a solution that will work for all three of you.
First and foremost, though, Ray needs to know that this is a problem for you, that it’s a big one, and that it’s his to step up and deal with more effectively.
[8/7/03]
Tags: grammar roommates sex the fam workplace
