Fun with etymology!

The Work Husband and I were having a conversation about wine this afternoon, and I made some comment about a bottle he’d mentioned costing “upwards of $50”. (The price was $44.95.) Which is to say, in my mind, the wine cost between $40 and $50. He replied, essentially saying I was on crack, and asking how “upwards of $50” was supposed to mean less than $50, and whether this was some Grey County slang, or if he’d apparently learned English in a Portuguese leper colony. (His turns of phrase are but one reason he is one of the world’s more wonderful men.) You see, to him, “upwards of $50” means more than $50, so between $50 and $60. (To me, that would be “upwards from $50.)

A quick poll revealed a split response. The first person we asked, our boss, had the same opinion as I did, so if I’m smoking crack, at least I’m sharing. Most other people I asked, however, agreed with the Work Husband’s definition. A couple of dictionary-type web site links were produced to show his definition as being the correct one. However, I replied by showing him news headlines pulled from Google, which would tend to support my argument.

Now, it’s not that I actually care about being right in this case. Obviously there’s more than enough support for his stance to give it weight. I just think it’s all fascinating. It’s just one of those phrases I’d never considered having multiple meanings, which then led me to wonder if perhaps it’s one of those phrases that’s undergoing etymological evolution, and is coming to mean the exact opposite of what it used to mean. (And, if so, which is the older version?)

In any case, I welcomed him to be right (which of course sucked all the joy of victory out if it, heh), and accused Sherry and her two masters degrees of agreeing with him just to get into his good graces, because she is clearly jealous that I have the best Work Husband and she wants him. 🙂

Grr. Argh.

I just got an email with the phrase “…we are positioned for success” in it.

Redrum! ReDrUm! REDRUM!!!!!!

That is all.

Dawn of the Dead.

This morning felt dead. Like the world had died overnight and frozen where it lay. I swam through my becoming-normal-lately lethargy in getting ready for work. I went outside to the car, and the light around me was hard and flat. Everything, even if it was moving, looked post-apocalyptic. Buildings looked deserted and vaguely ominous. Cars on the expressway somehow didn’t seem to be moving. People waiting at bus stops looked like zombies. The snow that fell was sparse and fluffy and spun crazily in the gusts of wind and jetstreams from cars. It was almost more like fallout ash.

And yet, I drove towards what was an exceptional sunrise. Like a show of nature’s desperation to break free of the bleakness of today, with vibrant pink, coral, and orange seeping into the blued steel sky and reflecting in shades of salmon and violet off the scattered clouds. The sky struggled for life, though it seemed an invisible ceiling covered the world, and the light didn’t quite penetrate. Trompe l’oeil, maybe?

Currently, the sun is out, and is reflecting rather prettily off the falling snowflakes. Inside, we are surrounded by odd-looking balloon “bouquets”, heralding the arrival of our new iSeries/AS400 system. They have a strange alien quality, rather like sentinels. A number of people have commented on it. Granted, the big balloon in each arrangement is black.

I still feel a little tired, a little sad, and as disengaged as I’ve mostly felt the last week or so. Even an inappropriately Photoshopped picture from the Work Husband only solicited a MAIC (mildly amused internal chuckle – his “realistic” replacement for the hated, and generally inaccurate “LOL”). I have plans for tonight that I’d normally be quite looking forward to. There is occasion to celebrate. I’m hoping I perk up this afternoon. Perhaps once I leave work, and choose a bottle of wine.

I sent an email yesterday to which I don’t really expect a reply. Not like when you email someone famous whose blog or web site you follow, or submit a complaint to some faceless corporation’s feedback form. This was an email to someone with whom I’ve exchanged probably thousands of emails. But the track record of communication with him leads me to believe he will not reply, which saddens me and adds another grey blanket to my mood. I could be wrong. It would be great if I am. I don’t want him to go away. But you can’t make someone talk to you. Without a reply, that’s the last email I plan to send him. Yes, it was an ultimatum of sorts. He’s someone I like, and someone I could value a great deal, but the circumstances of our acquaintanceship are rather abnormal, and insufficient for me. I deserve more than what it appears I am worth to him. So we shall see.