It seems whenever the discussion of disliked words comes up, the two most maligned words turn out to be "moist" and "panties." I feel that I stand alone in thinking these words are perfectly fine apart, and evidence of sexy fun times when together, and thus should not be so hated as they are. There are many words that ought to be avoided, but both moist and panties have delightful connotations, and the rancor against them baffles me greatly.
Those who hate panties as a word claim that it infantalizes those clothes of a lady's lower parts, but to them I ask, what should we refer to them as? Am I always to call them "underwear?" Or "underpants?" Or, heaven forfend, "drawers?" As a women who struggles with my self-image, nothing makes me feel more like a bipedal rhino than referring to my under-things as "drawers." I am not some ambulatory dresser, I am a woman! When preparing for a hot date, what do you prefer to wear? "Sexy drawers" sounds absurd, "sexy underpants" is hardly any better. "Sexy panties?" It trips off the tongue, a veritable pep-squad cheer for a delightful and sexy evening. (I also like to add that I am quite fond of the portmanteau of "fun underwear": "funderwear.")
And moist! What has this word done to so many people to make them squirm to hear it? Some claim it is the "oi" sound, but I call foul on that. Many harmless words have the "oi" sound (point, joint) and some even combine the "oi" and "st" (cloister) without offending. Also, I point to the word "oink" as evidence that "oi" is a darling dipthong enjoyed by cute little piggies all around the world. No, "moist" apparently suggests discomfort for people - humidity, smelly un-wrung sponges, sweat. But look at the good things moist provides -- moisturizing lotion, moisture gathering in clouds above for a refreshing rainshower, a moist cloth dampening and cooling a fevered brow. And dare I suggest that moisture makes it easier for us to come together in conjugal ways? It is moisture that reminds us that we are not unchanging, dry blocks of cement but teeming bits of humanity, subject to change. Perhaps that is why it is so hated?
Yesterday morning, I woke up to this:
If you can't see through my screen, which my camera lovingly caught and detailed, that is a light dusting of snow. The first of the season. I didn't fully register what had happened right away, but then my mind woke up and I said, "Holy crap, winter is on its way." You'll note that the trees are still green here in Minnesota -- at least, here in southern Minnesota. But if mother nature has any say in it, we'll have six inches on the ground before any tree realized summer was over.
As a result of the snow, people became sick of looking at it and all decided to go to the mall. So we were busy -- very busy. So busy that I realized quite keenly that the Christmas season is looming once more -- people asking for boxes, the homestore decorated like a Christmas nightmare Norman Rockwell once had, and, of course, the "fourth quarter move" looms, which means I'll be waking up at five one of these days and moving ten thousand bras from one place to another. Happy holidays...
I thought about making myself a holiday mix to get in the right spirit for work, but I have three Christmas songs, and one of those is Chiron Beta Prime:
But not as much as having three nuns walk into my department, all together, with their hair and habits tucked carefully under their parkas, asking if we have CuddlDuds yet. I spent the rest of the day trying to find a punchline for that, but couldn't. The delight of the experience, however, watching three nuns walking through a tunnel of bras to speak with me, will stay with me this holiday season and keep me warm. It truly is a wonderful life.
I have nothing to say other than this is one of the best months of the year. Autumn leaves, autumnal chill, and Halloween? Yes, please.
Bring on the cable knit sweaters and hot cocoa!
