Proceed with Caution

     I've been a little careless with my homonyms today.  I was staring out the window while typing so I wasn't really thinking about it.  It was awful though, because I was attempting to complain about something someone had written.  I wrote a note to my friend: "these assholes who right awards are terrible at it."  I hit send too fast.  It was out there.  My friend correctly responded with "hahaha.  Oh, the irony."  I pretty much wanted to die.
     I don't even think that's an incredibly common mistake.  That's one for really dumb people to make- people who actually don't know there are two different words.  That was a head planted firmly in my butt mistake.  I was very embarrassed.  Then, shortly after that, I used the wrong there/they're/their.  I tried to defend it saying I had changed what I was going to say, but it's not a good excuse.  I wanted to give up for the day.  There was nothing more I could do here, so I should just go.
     That was about 9 this morning, and ever since then, I have been writing ever so gingerly.  I don't trust myself anymore.  I can't even send out casual emails.  I'm crippled with fear that Thursday, July 21st, 2011, is the day I forgot how to use homonyms.  Or words at all.

     Also, as a side note, I was thinking about the phrase "head up your ass."  It's something my sister used to say a lot.  She was the first person I had ever heard use it.  It amused me when I first heard it.  I attempted to use contextual clues to figure out what it could possibly mean.  Then I realized it was her go-to insult.  She would accuse her husband of having his head up his ass pretty much all the time.  And maybe that was the case, but there would be things that didn't seem to be indicative of having one's head up one's ass.  For example, when they ran out of paint while painting their house, she blamed it on him having his head up his ass.  It seems like a bit of a leap.  Plus, the paint store isn't far away- just go buy another gallon.  He just didn't get enough.  It's not like he went to the store to buy paint and came back with a kitten.  That might be a case of head-in-assery.  Not buying enough paint?  Eh, small math error.
     She also used to accuse her daughter of having her head up her butt, even when her daughter was quite young.  I think she was probably just 6 and curious and maybe a little weak, and that's why she spilled the bag of dog food all over the kitchen and then proceeded to add water.
     In general, people don't have their headss up their asses as much as my sister thought they did.  I try to look out for this, and make sure I only claim peoples' heads are up their butts when they really seem like they are.  Including my own.  Using right instead of write?  Not paying attention; head in my butt.

Punctuation

     Let's talk about semicolons.  The other day I said to a friend of mine "I'm having a semicolon problem."  She thought I was going to discuss some issues I was having that were kind of related to my colon.  Like maybe it was a semi-colon problem, and a semi-duodenum problem.  She expected me to talk about poo. 
     This one time, however, my problem was not poo related.  It was punctuation related.  The semicolon often confuses people.  Kurt Vonnegut had this to say about them:

"First rule: Do not use semicolons. They are transvestite hermaphrodites representing absolutely nothing. All they do is show you've been to college."

I don't completely agree with that sentiment, but I think it does serve as a fitting warning.  When used properly semicolons are great.  However, when used incorrectly, they make the writer look plain idiotic.  Also, they aren't really ever necessary.  If you stick to short sentences and aren't attempting to write beautiful prose, you can get away with never using them.  And in many cases, it's best to do so.
     What I've come across is that people believe in a punctuation rank structure.  They understand a period comes at the end of the sentence.  They kind of understand when to use commas and when they don't, every fifth word or so satisfies their whim.  But then a complex sentence needs to be written- something with a list in it, or worse yet, a list within a list.  Oh heavens, what to do?  What to do?  Clearly, the semicolon becomes their answer. 
     Here is an example I have used to describe improper semicolon use:

The colors of the rainbow are: red; orange; yellow; green; blue; indigo; and violet. 

Yet I have seen nearly that same sentence presented to me as though it were correct.  I have gone back and written it correctly and then been told it needs semicolons.  No, it does not.  Not in any way.

Why didn't you use semicolons here?
Because I'm not joining independent clauses.

The argument I got back was that the use of the colon made the subsequent use of semicolons necessary.  This is when the light bulb went on.  People actually think the semicolon is just part of a hierarchy.  They don't understand that it's just another form of punctuation; it's available for your use when joining two clauses.  It is not a more important comma, or a less important colon.  I think people use it when they think they've used too many commas but don't want to end the sentence. 
     I appreciate a good semicolon.  I appreciate all good grammar.  I'm not great at it, but I try.  I allow others to correct me and hopefully learn from it.  I may see a flash of red, but I calm down and put the lesson in my wheelhouse.  I also keep a copy of Strunk & White's The Elements of Style by my desk for reference.  I guess I'm just really trying to prove that I try, and I like to think I succeed more often than I fail.  The lessons I do not appreciate, however, are those from the aforementioned folks who really just do think a semicolon is the Lieutenant Commander of punctuation- not as common as the Ensigns and Lieutenant we call commas and periods, but with less clout than a Captain- the colon.
     The more I write, the more comfortable I become with semicolons.  I've artfully constructed a few things for my job, some of them containing semicolons.  Never have those semicolons been contained in a list. 

Why did you use a semicolon here?
Because I AM combining independent clauses. 

As a side note, I know and understand the guideline about using semicolons in really complicated lists, i.e. use a semicolon between items in a list or series if any of the items contain commas.  Yeah, ok, fine.  But the colors of the rainbow are not complex ideas that would necessitate semicolons for clarity so all you're doing by replacing commas with semicolons is proving you're not very bright but you are incredibly pretentious / douchey.  And I would argue that if the list is so complicated you end up with 10 semicolons in one paragraph, go back to the drawing board and figure out a more concise way to present that information.
     Punctuation is our friend.  It helps us communicate; it lets us present our ideas in a pleasing way.  How fun is it to read a paragraph or two and know exactly what the author is talking about?  So fun!  I'm sure I'll continue to have these semicolon problems- some people do not want to be taught.  I am, however, hoping to avoid any semi-duodenum problems.    

Personal Plan of Actions and Milestones & LA! LA! LA!

     Today I started working on a personal plan of actions and milestones, also known as a POA&M.  POA&M (also written POAM when we're too lazy to add the ampersand) is pronounced po-am.  It's a fancy term for a list of shit that has to get done and dates you need them done by.
     I remember the first time someone explained to me what a POAM was.  A task was at hand; it was a fairly large task that needed to be broken down into parts.  I was told to write a POAM.

     "Do you know what a POAM is?"
     "No."
     "A plan of actions and milestones."
     "-"
     "You know what actions are, right?"
     "Yes, of course I know what actions are."
     "And you know what milestones are?"
     "A douchey word for goals."
     "So a plan of actions and milestones lays out all of your actions, or tasks, and your milestones, or goals, and assigns dates to them, so you can track your progress."
     "You mean it's a to-do list, with a douchey name."
     "A POAM is not douchey."

A POAM is actually quite douchey.   It's just a to-do list, usually with dates on it.  I suppose the dates are what pushes it over the edge from just a to-do list to a POAM.  There must be another term for it, but it has been so ingrained in me now I refer to a lot of my to-do lists this way.  I'm not saying it to be douchey though, I'm just saying it because now, it's what I'm most familiar with.  I want to make some changes in my life, I want to set up some goals and deadlines for myself, so I'm going to put them in a POAM.
     Also, as a side note, those who really take these things seriously will actually say P O A and M, every time they talk about it.  Recently I was assigned a very simple task and given a vague due date.  I was then told to come up with a "P. O. A. and M." for it.  The confused look on my face prompted the person making the request to assume I didn't know what a POAM was.  A similar conversation to the one above ensued, though if you can imagine it, it was even douchier.   It may have included the history of POAMs and graphical representation of milestones.  Rest assured, the confused look was because you don't need a POAM with two items on it.
     Anyway, that not withstanding, I am in the process of writing my own POAM for those aforementioned reasons of changing my life.  For me, a POAM will prevent chaos and stave off living in a box for a few months.  I appreciate that about them.  Plus, I'll probably get to make it into some sort of PowerPoint presentation with triangles and diamonds and stars and timelines.  That sounds awesome, doesn't it?  And by presentation I mean I'll hang it on my wall with tape.

      Part II:  Zero days to LA!  Woo!  I'm counting down the hours until I'm in the sky flying towards the land of angels.   LA! LA! LA!  I hope the Beach Boys were right with all the wonderful things they say about California.  (I've actually been to California before.  A decent amount.  I don't know why I'm acting as though I've never left this cubicle.)

     One more non sequitur:  since it's a holiday, there  will be no new Oliver on Monday, so there's something else I need to say before I go on vacation.  When you take charge of something, say, a group of people or a meeting, what are you doing?  Leading.  You are a leader.  Currently, you lead.  What if you did it yesterday?  What is the past tense of lead?  Led.  L-E-D.  Led.  Yesterday, you led the meeting.
     What is a main-group element with the symbol Pb and atomic number 82?  What is a soft, malleable poor metal?  Lead.  Lead, the element, and led, the action, are different.  If you have graduated high school and now hold a high-paying government position where you lead meetings and write emails about them, you should know the difference.  I have now lost all confidence in you over one small typo.  Powerful, huh?

I Am My Own Worst Enemy

     I'm overselling it just a bit, but in all honestly, I probably am, based simply on the fact that I'm not of enough consequence of anyone else to be considered their enemy.  The alternate theme of this post is "damn you auto correct."  In my case, spell check has gotten to me again.  Moreover, the fact that every single person in the world feels compelled to remind you: spell check doesn't find the errors that are actually words.
     I hate when I make these errors, though I think I may beat myself up about it more than others do.  The one that nearly made me spit-take my coffee this morning was when I noticed my error within a reply.  I had written "...the Mater Planning Schedule."  Spell check didn't correct it, because apparently mater is a word. 

ma·ter

[mey-ter]

–noun, plural -ters, -tres

1.British Informal . mother¹ .

2.the backing holding the movable parts of an astrolabe.

 And for further edification on that:

as·tro·labe

[as-truh-leyb]

–noun

an astronomical instrument for taking the altitude of the sun or stars and for the solution of other problems in astronomy and navigation: used by Greek astronomers from about 200 b.c. and by Arab astronomers from the Middle Ages until superseded by the sextant.

I was sending a "Master Planning Schedule," not whatever the hell a mater planning schedule would be.  (Also, I admit, I was a bit convinced the dictionary was just going to tell me "short for tomato.")  I felt foolish when I read the reply to my email and saw my error.  I think it was over looked by the recipient, however, and the response was simply a Thank You.  In the grand scheme of things, this one typo didn't really matter; I was just really embarrassed.
     Not as embarrassed as I am when I mistype below as blow, however.  Often, when summarizing something, I begin an email with "Sir, Below is the ..." and then write what the thing is.  But about 9 out of 10 times, I type blow.  It's probably only funny to me, because I have the sense of humor of a 12-year-old boy.  But I think, wouldn't it be funny if I wrote back "Sir, Blow me."  It would funny for about the amount of time it took space to transmit that email from my computer to sir's computer.  And then it would immediately stop being funny.  I imagine there would be yelling, and probably a law suit.  So I stay extra vigilant for that typo.
     Another odd typo I make often is misspelling the word initiative.  When I misspell it in a certain way (often initative- missing the third i), spell check warns me with its red underline.  However, this particular misspelling is not recognized by spell check to resemble initiative; instead it offers me imitative.  I understand why it offers that- it is just one letter off.  But I've almost ruined other peoples ideas by calling them imitative instead of initiatives. 
     There are those, and I tend to be one of them, who find these blatant errors unforgivable.  It's a matter of rereading and proofreading.  As much as most will concede these mistakes can happen, they should happen between you and your computer, lest you be admonished by your readers.  It's not even that people won't understand you, it's that they will see you as simple-minded and careless.  This is the whole basis for my self- loathing and the declaration of being my own worst enemy.  I want to hold myself to that higher standard, but sometimes I've been looking at the same sentence for so long, I see what I think it says reads instead of what it actually does.  It happens on here quite a bit, too.  I get overcome with excitement for the idea, and I don't notice I've left out a word, or added a word for no reason.  It's generally not written so poorly it can't be deciphered, but that's hardly the point.  I would prefer to not have to be deciphered.  So I beat myself up over these mistakes, look up the new word I've discovered via spell check over look, and smugly correct others when I find their mistakes.
      Ooh, I think I just figured out who may consider me their enemy.