OPTIMISTIC GRIEVANCES: APARTMENT EDITION

We live in the "historic district." 

It sounds rather quaint, doesn't it?

And it is. It's quite charming.

Really.

But every now and then, the charm just can't make up for...other things about the house.

Other things that I'm not always so happy about.

But I don't want to write a long, ranty post about these things, so I'm going to share my grievances as if the glass is half full (just like our bathtub, after approximately the first two minutes of taking a shower):

This was my face as I typed the rest of this post out.

I'm grateful for the 16-19 streams of water that do come out of our shower head, and the three twist ties that keep it in an upright position that mostly works.

The paint that peels off the bottom of our bathtub during every single use of the shower reminds me that our house is old, and therefore vintage, and therefore really cool. 

The condensation that lingers on almost every surface in our bedroom for over an hour after we shower makes me grateful that we can have hot showers, as long as the neighbors aren't doing laundry.

Doing our laundry is free, and we get to use the machines whenever we want...during the times that our neighbors who we share the machines with aren't doing laundry.

The holes along the edges of the carpet in our living room allow us to see each other and talk about the scarcity or abundance of laundry soap while one of us is loading the washer in the basement, and they never make me terrified of the gigantic spiders that may or may not decide to use these openings to come up and kill me.

I'm grateful that those same ginormous spiders I observe while doing laundry in our basement let me wash my clothing in peace and have not attacked me (yet).

The huge, dark, scary hole in the wall of the basement leading to farther and deeper regions beneath the house has not yet produced either a monster or hobo bent on killing me while I put clothing into the machines.

The lack of windows that can be opened in the house makes me appreciate houses that do have ventilation. Which is like, every other house currently in existence.

I'm grateful to have counters in our kitchen that provide just enough space for all of our appliances and kitchen utensils, because who needs counter space to make meals anyways?

Pressing our old gas oven's baking temperature button x number of times to get it to randomly land on the right temperature makes me grateful for the times when I only have to press it once or twice to land on 350°. 

Having to put a fridge in our living room due to a lack of space in the kitchen has opened my eyes to decorative possibilities I had never before imagined...it's truly an unprecedented aesthetic masterpiece. 

And I love it.

10 ADJECTIVES THAT SHOULD BE USED MORE OFTEN

After living in Utah for a few months, I came to the realization that I had developed a habit. As much as I'd like to blame it on my new environment, I really have no idea where it came from, and it honestly drives me insane. Yet I keep doing it. And I keep perpetuating the horror. What could possibly shove me to the brinks of insanity so frequently? Well, beyond the other hundreds of things that succeed in doing so on an almost daily basis, it's the word "super." And it's super annoying. SEE. I JUST DID IT.

There was a time, back in my youth, when the world was a bright and happy place and a myriad of adjectives frolicked in the meadows of my own personal vocabulary. They were exciting, they were diverse, and they provided me with an arsenal for in-class essays comparable to the stockpile of nuclear weapons of Soviet Russia. And then I came to college, expecting that meadow of lively adjectives to multiply and maybe even expand to the point of over-population. But no. Instead, they left me. They just high-tailed it out of my brain, or more commonly hid in weird hidey-holes and hollowed-out trees and popped out at random, often inappropriate times in conversation.

Except for one. This is the adjective "super." Finding himself to be among the only adjectives left, he became much more than a word used to describe heroes of above-average strength and ability. No- he became a slippery, evil adverb that would cling to and beat the life out of any adjective left. It was basically like the Hunger Games was happening in my head, and he was one of the Careers from District 2 who actually liked killing people. For example:

"My Sociology class is super interesting!"

"It's super frustrating when she leaves her dirty dishes on the table."

"And then he walked in and it was super awkward."

And the list goes on and on. It's truly horrendous. So in order to coax myself back into using better words and put "super" back in his place, I have come up with a list of ten adjectives, in no particular order, that are so fantastic and seldom spoken that I will have no other alternative but to use them as frequently as possible. I invite you to do the same:

1) Pulchritudinous, [puhl-kri-tood-n-uhs], adj.,
        physically beautiful; comely.

The best part about this word is that it defines the object being described as being just physically beautiful. So now you can sound really sophisticated and not have to hide your shallowness at the same time. Perfect.

2) Ample, [am-puhl], adj.,

        1. fully sufficient or more than adequate for the purpose or needs; plentiful; enough. 

        2. of sufficient or abundant measure; liberal; copious. 

        3. of adequate or more than adequate extent, size, or amount; large; spacious; roomy. 

THIS WORD. It's so great. Instead of saying, "There's 'a lot' or 'tons' of cake left," you can hoist a monocle to your eye and declare "I do believe that an ample supply of pastry remains" and scoff as those around you gaze at you in utter disbelief and wonder.

3) Penultimate, [pi-nuhl-tuh-mit], adj.,
        next to the last: the penultimate scene of the play.

The reason I enjoy this one so much is because it's so unnecessary. I mean, usually we only talk about the first and last of something, and if need be we use the term "next to last." But THIS WORD EXISTS. So whenever I get the chance to use it, my day becomes approximately 67% better. This is an actual statistic.

4) Pithy, [pith-ee], adj.,
      1. brief, forceful, and meaningful in expression; full of vigor, substance, or meaning; terse; forcible: a pithy observation.
        2. of, like, or abounding in pith.

Take a moment and just read the second definition again. I would argue that this is one of the best sentences ever constructed in the English language. But honestly, I just hope that one day someone close to me ticks me off so I can look at them square in the eyes and say "You know, you're being a really pithy friend." Because I think it'd be amazing.

  

5) Lachrymose, [lak-ruh-mohs], adj.,

       1. suggestive of or tending to cause tears; mournful.

       2. given to shedding tears readily; tearful.

I never knew there was a word for this, and the fact that there is fills me with so much joy that I might shed a tear...or...maybe I'll just start using this word in reference to annoying, overemotional girls instead. Yeah. I think I'll do that.

6) Bletcherous, [Bletch-er-uhs], adj.,
        disgusting in design or function; aesthetically unappealing.

I will get so much use out of this one it's not even funny.

7) Cromulent, [crahm-u-lent], adj.,
        fine; acceptable.

Everything that is fine or acceptable can now be described in a manner far more equal to the magnitude to which they are not offensive...Yeah. I'm not even sure that made sense. But so many things in life are going to become "cromulent" now and this makes me happy. I also feel as though this word would be best employed in a "Surfer Dude" accent- "Those are some cromulent waves, brah." Yes. So much yes.

8) Orgulous, [awr-gyuh-luhs], adj.,
        haughty; proud.

It's not every day that a word comes along with the ability to indirectly insult and astound someone at the same time. Besides, the words "egotistical," "conceited," and "vain" have become so commonplace that their use hardly creates the same effect that a word as absurd as "orgulous" would. And if you don't agree with me, it's because you're an orgulous oaf of a person who is most definitely not exempt from my alliterative tendencies.

9) Daft, [daft], adj.,
        1. senseless, stupid, or foolish.
        2. insane; crazy.

Used more notably by our friends in Great Britian, this word deserves a lot more credit than it receives. Unlike its synonym cousins used in the definition, its simple one syllable form says "this (event/place/noun/current viral dance craze) is so unworthy of my attention that I shall describe it without expending more energy than it deserves." All of that in just four letters. Now that's what I call an effective word.

10) Awry, [uh-rahy], adj.,

        1. with a turn or twist to one side; askew. 

        2. away from the expected or proper direction; amiss; wrong.

This spectacular word falls into the same category as "daft:" short, sweet, and to the point. And honestly, declaring that something "has gone awry" is so much more entertaining than saying something "is wrong/not right/etc." Yes, you might get some weird looks when using it in casual conversation, but remember that it's because your friends are just jealous of your vocabulary, and not because they think you're annoying.....probably.

BONUS WORD:

11) Splenetic, [spli-net-ik], adj.,

        1. of or relating to the spleen.

        2. bad-tempered; spiteful.

Can we just take a moment to read those definitions again and appreciate this glorious word? My goodness. The fact that I can now call an angry person out and maybe also be implying that they are spleen-like, all with one word, makes me feel both powerful and extremely dangerous. But so does adding a bonus word to a list that's only supposed to have ten words. I'm out of control, folks.