I'm a Walking Thesaurus

By Charleen Earley

10/21/09

I’m a walking thesaurus and it’s becoming a problem … or is it issue? I do it sitting down too. While someone is talking, I blurt out their last word for them or I’ll throw out a better, more descriptive, illustrative, colorful, eloquent and vivid word to help them out.

But they don’t want my help – wherein lies my problem (and possible speaking restraining orders called peaceful contact).

I know what you’re thinking too. Who died and made you Ms. Verbal editor, eh?

I can’t help it. It’s not like I’m from New Jersey and talk a-mile-a-minute, but it seems everyone around me (here in California) talks very slow, like I’m in a dream.

It’s they who come up with the worst words to describe their experiences. Or they do that long minute, minute-and-a-half pause with the annoying “um” to go with it. This type of communication just screams inside my head with, “Charleen, help him out quick, what’s the word he’s wanting to use right now?”   

It’s not me, it’s them, I convince myself.

If they’d just be more accurate in conveying their messages, I wouldn’t have jump in and save their verbal-communication-day with an amazingly precise and scrupulous word. Not trying to toot my own vernacular horn, but you’d think they’d be thanking me.

Instead they roll their eyes, grunt, reluctantly repeat my word with disdainful resolve, or (and this one hurts) ask me to let them finish their own sentence pleasssse. It happened today.

When I get that type of “shush,” I realize I have a dilemma and things are getting way out of control. Is there an AA program for this?

Hi, my name is Charleen and I’m a sentence-finisher. Welcome Charleen!

Only I’m not welcome. People around me would rather polish off their sentence with the most tedious, dreary, unexciting, wearisome, humdrum, uninspiring, un-thoughtful, non-descriptive, mind-numbing, inaccurate, lackluster word they can muster. And they’re perfectly happy with it too, borderline proud.

Seriously?

So I muster a silent prayer. Forgive them Father, for they know not what better word to use. I also pray (heavily) that those around them will somehow miraculously understand the message conveyed. They usually do.

So it is me.

Ultimately, I’m learning to keep my mouth shut; to speak and let speak; and to toss out my internal thesaurus while others are talking … or is it yapping?

Automated Flushing Toilets

By Charleen Earley

3/25/11

Let me just drop this on you right now … I hate them. Now I’ll explain why they stink.

First of all, how do these automated flushing toilets know when I’m done with my business? So far, they’ve been wrong. Way wrong. And the countless times when I was done with my business, it wouldn’t flush. So I had to search for, then push the tiny black button to force it to do the job it was wired to do automatically in the first place.

This is so frustrating, especially when you’re in a stall smaller than a trailer park closet with no hook to hang your big, bulky purse (I have important things in there), jacket, scarf, umbrella (it’s a rainy March this year) and cell phone – since someone could be trying to text me.

Nothing could be worse than sitting on the pot, in the middle of doing business, you’re only 10 seconds in and without warning, you hear a click and a loud swoosh. All of sudden, the toilet just went French on you, thinking it’s a bidet and not a standard and gives you a bum-washing you never expected nor wanted in the first place. That’s when you high tail it home to take a hot shower using two bars of soap plus Clorox to disinfect the accosted area.

Who designed these automated toilet-flushers anyway? I mean honestly – doesn’t this insult our intelligence that we don’t know when to flush our toilets? Was it designed to cut down on too many courtesy flushes?

True, occasionally I’ll find a public toilet with a floater staring at me or shredded toilet paper inside, but I usually rule that out as a toilet that has little flush pressure. Showers have them, I think toilets do too.

Maybe the designer felt the auto-flush would cut down on germs? Heck, I grew up having to handle those tiny silver handles without contracting any germs. We didn’t have toilet seat liners either. And I wasn’t one of those who hovered above the seat either, because I’m too short.

Is this another dumbing down of America tactic or am I just way too controlling? Is it too much to ask that I say goodbye when I want to say goodbye? Boo-hiss to this auto-flusher, and bring back the handle. It would make my bathroom life way less crappier.