Week in Seven Words #550

This covers the week of 8/2/20 - 8/8/20.

anuran

I love looking at photos of her holding a frog. I wonder if, like me, she'll have a terrarium in her room at some point.

cleansing

After a storm, the paths are crunchy and slick. The air is also cleaner. It's much less humid; it doesn't cling to your nostrils or stick to your throat. On a hill, in the soft evening light, two people are perched on boulders, their eyes closed as they breathe.

drawing

I draw a wonderful fork. A well-proportioned fork that's recognizably a fork. As for faces... I can draw the same face three times, and it will look like three different people (and not as some kind of intentional artistic statement). Some face variations are interesting and have more character than others.

ducks

The pier is dotted with ducks. They quack against a backdrop of creaking boats.

momentum

What stops us from crossing the path is a thick, unrelenting stream of bicyclists. They yield to no one, and they can barely manage the intense pressure, the high volume. One of them flies out of the stream when his bike hits a fallen branch. He lands hard on the grass and stands up, shaking, half a minute later.

tepid

For the first time in months, I set foot in a library. I half expect it to be a momentous visit. Maybe trumpets will sound from the speaker system. But it's anticlimactic. I grab a couple of books that have already been checked out for me. The librarians are located behind masks and a layer of plexiglass. A security guard, looking supremely bored, sits on a stool by the door.

watery

One fountain spits and crackles. Another one drips. To the west, a stream makes thick, quiet noise. I realize I'm following it correctly when I don't emerge onto a baseball field, but instead spot a pool coated in algae.

Week in Seven Words #500

catch-all
She uses "heavy" to describe anything big or adult-like.

decoding
Even though he's more experienced with JavaScript than I am, he can still find it perplexing. Like why 2019 gets interpreted as a number even though it was typed as a string.

drenching
Right after we step into the store, the wind picks up, and the storm rushes through the streets like an overflowing river.

impatience
I'm caught up in a flurry of impatience with myself. But impatience is preferable to feeling undeserving and inadequate.

salesmanship
The salesman, crimped and white-toothed, hovers too much, but he does point me to something worth buying.

self-sufficient
An old woman walking with her spine perpendicular to her hips refuses help with her bags. She's holding one in each hand, and they seem to balance her.

warily
The doctor's office is tucked below street level. It looks grubby and shabby, and the air is thick with the tang of disinfectant.

Week in Seven Words #476

displeased
A blast of temper sends him stomping away from the table to shout at his kids.

dully
Grimy windows, gray weather, the smell of unwashed sweaters, a short line for sandwiches.

glistening
The apartment gleams after a thorough cleaning.

impression
They like the board game because it's politically incorrect; it asks for impersonations of accents, mannerisms, facial expressions. But they don't count on the awkwardness of enjoying the game in public. Shortly after one of the players has shared her version of an accent from India, they notice two people from India at a nearby table. Immediately, they feel sheepish. They laugh uncertainly.

interspecies
He talks about how his dog is kinder than most humans. Maybe that's the case, but it's interesting to consider what he means by kindness. With dogs, as long as you bond with them, they'll usually be on your side no matter what; it isn't a hard decision on their part, requiring some mental or spiritual effort. With humans, kind words and actions are a conscious choice. Kindness is complex, and it can be difficult, especially in a complicated situation or when you're feeling irritated or impatient. A dog's loyalty can feel wonderful, but does it make sense to compare it to human kindness?

squirmy
He hits on an uncomfortable truth about his parents' marriage, and the room goes tense with silence and funny breathing and forced, puzzled looks, as if the kid doesn't know what he's talking about.

texting
In a week, she goes from defiantly using a flip phone to texting frequently, delightedly, on her new smartphone. Including a masterful use of emojis.

Week in Seven Words #468

alike
Teens form clots on the train's platform, their eyes on their phones, mouths pressed to sugary drinks.

appreciate
The structure, repetition, and sheer colorfulness of a picture book. Some wit in this one too. Since I'll probably be reading it more than once, it's best to find qualities to appreciate.

drummed
It's a crisp, sunny day, but in the middle of our walk a mild hail falls, only a passing shower, pelting us lightly.

exerting
She looks tired – coffee firmly attached to her hand, bags under her eyes, a weak grin of determination.

mustachioed
He's become obsessed with wrestling, namely WWE wrestlers. Using cardboard from discarded boxes, he's cut out and colored in a slew of wrestlers. I identify Hulk Hogan from the yellow blobs of hair on the face.

softly
We're huddled together by the water. The sky is creamy and tinged with pink and purple. The buildings are silvery.

streak
At lunch, they play a Trivial Pursuit type of game on their phone, the screen getting smeared with barbecue sauce as they stab at the answers (which are mostly correct, except for pretty much anything in the sports category).

Excellent descriptions of the weather in Cheerful Weather for the Wedding

This morning the countryside, through each and all of the big windows, was bright golden in the sunlight. On the sides of a little hill quite close, beyond the railway cutting, grew a thick hazel copse. To-day, with the sun shining through its bare branches, this seemed to be not trees at all, but merely folds of something diaphanous floating along the surface of the hillside – a flock of brown vapours, here dark there light – lit up in the sunshine.

In this Julia Strachey novel, the characters left less of an impression on me than the rooms they live in and the countryside that enfolds them. The descriptions of the weather are fantastic. And no, the weather isn't always cheerful. The wedding isn't cheerful either.

Out in the drive there, standing about round the motor-car, in the furious March gale, everyone felt as though they were being beaten on the back of the head and on the nose with heavy carpets, and having cold steel knives thrust up inside their nostrils, and when they opened their mouths to avoid the pain of this, big wads of iced cotton-wool seemed to be forced against the inside of their throats immediately, so that they choked, and could not draw any breath in.

Week in Seven Words #447

complimenting
She says there's something about me that draws people in a way that makes them want to talk, share their thoughts, and ask questions.

easy-peasy
"It's going to take more than one try," I tell the nurse who's about to draw blood. "No it won't," she says with a little smile. And she's right. For the first time I can remember, I'm not poked multiple times; she manages to find the vein in my arm and draw blood in one attempt. "This is amazing," I say, and she reveals her secret: she had spent 10 years working with babies. My skittish adult veins are no match for her skill.

inspection
Being peered at like this feels strange. It's an annual checkup, so it's expected, but it's still unsettling to get inspected from scalp to toes (where a mild subungual hematoma stains one nail).

negotiating
It's a short walk, maybe a mile or two, but it takes longer than expected. There are different conditions to negotiate, such as where to walk so the sun isn't always in my eyes, what to do about impatient, aggressive drivers who are blocking the crosswalks, and where to turn when the pedestrians' route is a thread through construction chaos.

rosily
In the middle of the aisle, a girl in a glossy pink skirt hugs a girl with golden ringlets.

roughly
The thunderstorm sounds like a throat being violently cleared.

self-awareness
They say they listen well, but keep interrupting the young man and telling him they don't understand him. Even as he tries to explain, they cut him off. When he trails back to his chair, they tell him they appreciate his contributions to the discussion.

Week in Seven Words #416

blurting
Speak hastily, regret deeply.

feebleness
Her goals are made of sand. She shapes the beginnings of a castle, and a gentle wave sloshes over it and smoothes it down until it looks like a decayed tooth. She doesn't attempt to rebuild it.

pablum
They ask me to sit with them and watch the first several minutes of a reality TV show I last saw years ago. Nothing about it has changed. It's as if the participants are all scooped out of some tub of homogeneous 20-somethings.

pristinely
As a cleanup crew feeds branches into a woodchipper, a young boy watches avidly. I wonder what fresh impressions are forming in his mind, in the mind of anyone really who has never watched Fargo.

protested
The truck, with its rear tire stuck, growls against the curb and coughs up exhaust.

reveling
She applies her forehead and cheeks, as much as her mouth, to a gigantic chocolate bar. Smeared in chocolate, she smiles for the camera.

thickening
Cotton swabs of fog over the river.

Week in Seven Words #407

agitated
I'm sometimes surprised at how much fear and anxiety people carry around with them, even people who seem to "have it together." It's relatively rare to meet someone who isn't trembling at the edges or clamping down on an emotion that could sweep away their equilibrium. (I'll add that I'm not making these observations from a remote distance, untouched.)

extreme
He's wearing a jacket with the name of a far-right conspiracy website printed on the back. He's plugged into the truth now, is what he thinks.

friction
A town hall, the officials sounding quietly sympathetic, and the constituents sounding completely unconvinced that anyone competent is in charge.

glop
All the restaurants look alike, with the same yogurt parfaits in mini-fridges, pizzas dribbling on waxed paper, and hamburgers the size of a fist.

opponent
Talking to them becomes less complicated when I realize they're not interested in a discussion. They want to figure out if I'm on the right side (their side) of a given issue. If I express a doubt or point out an inaccuracy, it means I'm not on their side. Even if I mostly agree with them, they expect me to share all of their sentiments and use their preferred language. I can't do that, but at least I now understand why I'm being set up as their opponent.

squoosh
Making slime has become a fad among kids. She shows me hypnotic videos of people squeezing, stretching, and poking the viscous substance. Some turn the slime into artistic works of multiple colors and elaborate designs. Most enjoy the gummy, squelchy noises it makes.

waterlogged
It's a soggy evening, like a paper towel that's been soaked in cold water.

Week in Seven Words #342

alar
She's dressed in every color of the rainbow, from an orange scarf down to sandals dotted in red rhinestones. When she poses before a spray-painted brick wall, the graffiti seems to unfold like wings from her body.

athletes
One of them has conquered water, the other air. They push at the bounds of what's physically possible.

chanciness
She's draped across a bench in an evening dress, a cluster of trees shading her from the morning light. She had gone to a party the evening before, and when it wound down, she hadn't wanted to go home. She spent the night walking until she wore herself out. Her dress shoes have demolished her feet.

confirm
To make sure I'm serious about my intentions to visit, she asks for a pinky promise. Afterwards, a hug.

frizz
He curls up next to me on the couch, his hair tickling my arm as the movie plays.

scouring
Her deep-cleaning skills are impressive. Decades' worth of grime melt away.

steamed
The night air is like a warm towel pressed to my face.

Week in Seven Words #313

cyberspace
Catching up on housework while the Internet and phones aren't working. Keep glancing at the router to check if service is back. Resume dish-washing.

fleecy
We're side-by-side on the couch, our legs pressed together beneath a staticky blanket.

mauve
Fairy lights, purple skies, an evening chill.

muffling
We speak through scarves, our voices smothered.

soul
After services in the synagogue, a boy and his father take turns being rabbi and cantor. When it's the boy's turn to be the rabbi, his father asks for a speech or some wise words about the week's Torah portion. "L'Chaim, L'Chaim, L'Chaim!" the boy says.

waterfowl
The quivering gray-brown rocks on the reservoir are ducks.

zippy
Kids run up and down the synagogue aisles. The space for prayers is also one for play.

Week in Seven Words #286

commencing
Mornings are delightful when I get a lot of things done. When I don't, the whole day seems to slow down. Futility and fear creep in with the lengthening shadows.

confronting
When he walks by, he hisses at us through his smile. I don't shrink away, but feel a rising strength, like I could strike back viciously if I needed to. I look over my shoulder to make sure he hasn't turned around and started following us. He's looking back over his shoulder too. Nothing happens. But we were purely animals, at that moment.

festively
The summer dresses on the rack look more like banners in blue, orange, and purple, meant to wave from the front windows of a house.

quake
The thunder sounds like it's emerging from the ground.

rosy
Asked what an ideal vacation would look like, I imagine lots of hiking, train rides, and English country cottages with gardens in bloom.

selfdom
I'd forgotten how funny these magazine quizzes can be, where stating your preference for a forest or a beach helps unlock the secrets of your personality.

trove
In what most people would use as a jewelry box, she keeps a collection of erasers. Some shaped like cupcakes, others like flowers and friendly robots. Also a few without any design, just the standard small pink block.

Week in Seven Words #204 & 205

204
aseptic
Pearls of dark chocolate and mint, spilled onto Purelled hands.

echoes
Haven't we had this conversation before? In our respective chairs, one of us talking more than the other?

hometown
I take a dialect quiz (focusing on pronunciation, and certain vocab and expressions), and the results are supposed to tell you what region of the US you're from. As it turns out, the way I speak fits closest to these three cities: San Jose, Fremont, and Honolulu. Also, I'm generally a very strong fit with Long Island, NY. Given that I was born in California and spent close to six years of my life in southern California, then the rest of my childhood on Long Island, these are pretty accurate results.

keratinous
The days are slight, as thin as fingernails.

revival
Embers in me that I want to coax back to life.

sorted
The animals have one corner of the floor; the plants have the other. In his world, at this time, they can't mingle.

tonedeaf
"Are you with someone?" he asks, his eyes scanning the room, fishing for additional prospects. "Yes," I say. "If it doesn't work out," he immediately says, in a business-like tone, "could I be the first one to know? Let me know, right after." Yep. That's exactly what I'm going to do. The first thing I'll think of in the aftermath of a break-up is you. And I do in fact get his business card, with two phone numbers. His customer service skills are impeccable.

205
abrade
This is the kind of cold that scrubs away at your cheeks like steel wool.

arctic
I don't know how they do it - plunge into the cold water without their hearts stopping.

cellar
The space beneath my desk is very cold. I could chill wine in there, where the heat hasn't made its way.

earthy
Deft fingers on the mandolin and a rough and honest voice. Magnificent.

satiny
A sky like gray silk.

sisal
They're a married couple with no apparent chemistry. No shared looks, no laughter in their eyes, just a tiredness in the way they move and talk to each other. As if they'd always rather be in different rooms. There's no sense of what's holding them together except for social acceptableness.

versifying
Hours of poetry, some earnestly awful and some of it beautiful. It's been a while since I had the pleasure of listening to poetry read out loud. Even the bad poetry sounds better read out loud.

Groundhog Day (1993): Egotist learns to love himself and others via a time loop

Title: Groundhog Day
Director: Harold Ramis
Language: English
Rating: PG

Hell is being stuck with yourself when you're full of self-loathing.

Phil Connors (Bill Murray) strikes people as having a high opinion of himself. He's a Pittsburgh weatherman full of contempt for his colleagues; he's convinced he's headed for a more prominent spot on national TV. An assignment to cover the Groundhog Day festivities at Punxsutawney is a personal affront to him; he hates the yokels in small towns and their silly traditions. When a snowstorm forces him to stay overnight in Punxsutawney with his producer, Rita (Andie MacDowell), and cameraman, Larry (Chris Elliott), he's gone through what he probably considers the most pointless, boring day of his life.

Until the gets up the next morning, and finds out it's Groundhog Day all over again.

Time is stuck in a loop, forcing Phil to relive the same day over and over. At first, he thinks he's going nuts. How can it be that he's waking up every morning at 6:00 am in the same bed and breakfast, with the same song playing from the alarm radio? As he realizes that this is real, and he's actually trapped in Punxsutawney in a 24-hour loop, he begins to indulge his hedonistic side: speeding, thieving, seducing women, eating junk food the way a man would when he doesn't have to care about cholesterol and cavities.

From Wikipedia, Fair use

Week in Seven Words #184 and #185

#184
ambition
He struggles with reading and math but maybe he'll get the life he wants anyway, his photo in Sports Illustrated and a mansion with many sports cars.

embalmed
Old cakes topped with sugared roses wilt in the dull white light.

faultfinding
It doesn't need to be perfect; it just needs to get done. It doesn't need to be perfect; it just needs to get done.

nasal
A drippy optician, sniffling while squinting at a computer that doesn't work.

resurrection
She pulls back the moth-eaten curtains and discovers a world that's forgotten she exists.

promotion
They've recruited an unfunny comedian to hand out flyers for their comedy club. People will be sure to come.

whitecaps
Light breaks in waves against my brain.

Week in Seven Words #167

derelict
She drinks from a dirty glass and eats tongue between slices of old brown bread.

disagreeable
Music from the IRS hotline tinkles in my ear, as I try to write while on hold.

gambits
The blankets are rumpled and strewn with pie dishes and tin trays. People stand around talking and sizing each other up. Every conversation I'm a part of seems to involve a game that I don't want to play.

needs
The sky growls thunder and hisses a promise of rain. Still, we must stop for frozen yogurt.

two-sided
Depending on who you ask in the room, the dog is an adorable treasure or, at best, a nuisance.

whoop
Discovering that I need to fill out a five-page tax form that comes with at least 50 pages of instructions.

whoopee
Along with the five-page form, there's another form. And another. There are always more forms.

Week in Seven Words #163

dotted
Getting speckled with snow as I take a long walk.

embitter
As everyone is celebrating, I taste the undercurrents in the room. Along with genuine warmth, there's a strong flavor of condescension and cynicism. People are smirking instead of smiling.

gloomy
People in shambles in a green-carpeted parlor.

openness
The conversation goes much better than I expected it would. More listening, calmness, and humor than I would have imagined possible. Acceptance is still a long way off, and maybe it will never come. Regardless, I have to do as I see fit.

potentate
My opinion of him (which isn't definitive, not least because I'm acting as an armchair psychologist), is that he's deeply self-absorbed. Occasionally he turns away from his work or personal interests and notices someone else. He might even be moved to do a kindness for them. Then he'll forget about them and become irritated and puzzled when they contact him.

stimulant
Jolted out of a quiet Friday afternoon by some really good news.

threshold
We stand outside talking in the damp. Occasionally the front door opens, disclosing golden light and a roar of voices.

Week in Seven Words #157 - #160 (28 word catch-up post)

I'm sorry I was away for a while. I took a break from blogging, and it wasn't planned. Some changes in my schedule, new work, and - just this past week - a vacation I'll be telling you about soon, kept my attention away from the blog. So now there's a backlog of "week in seven words" posts.

This is going to be a mega post of week in seven words. Four weeks' worth. After this, I plan to go back to posting one set per week.

Week in Seven Words #155 and #156

Week in Seven Words #155

cat's cradle
The dog criss-crosses her leash around and through my legs.

contrasts
The weather, in a way, is perfect: a cloudy cold day, not too cold, the air fresh and scented with herbs and flowers. Because the garden is only half-alive, a sunny day might have made it seem burned out and dead. But the winter mist brings out every hint of color in the broken twigs and grey-green leaves.

disparity
Neighborhoods laid down side by side: slums and fast food joints giving way to gabled homes with chocolate trim.

espied
The bench, sheltered in the gazebo, overlooks the garden, the pale river, and the clouds.

expectations
Maps fire the imagination. This one has names like 'conifer slope' and 'aquatic garden' that sound intriguing but turn out to be a sodden hill and a fountain that isn't active in the winter.

likenesses
Cacti of all kinds: some look like rosettes on a cake, others like cold sorbet fuzzy with ice, others like balls of electricity.

surfacing
I like when the subway climbs out into the light and rattles alongside rooftops and billboards.

Week in Seven Words #156
blasted
A cold wind that seems to scrape out the inside of your skull.

dredge
Gristly duck and faded decor in a restaurant that was once great.

propionibacteria
In a span of five blocks we see something like 10-15 people in Elmo costumes. One of them has terrible body odor, so no one stands next to him.

pulverulent
A dusting of snow on the curbs and benches.

remuneration
Making money off my writing gives me a really good feeling.

spooked
When the ghosts start swarming out of sewer vents and subway stations, the dog yaps at the TV.

therapeutic
Through her dolls she tries to cope with her anxiety about broken bones and reassure herself of a speedy recovery.

Week in Seven Words #147 & #148

It's good to be back.

I was sick for most of last week, which threw me off my regular posting/writing schedule. So I've mixed up two weeks in words into one post. A word salad, served up for you. Here you go...

Week in Seven Words #145

gauze
Fat snowflakes swimming past my eyes. The world is wrapped up in snow.

macabre
Despair is always waiting with open arms but I don't look his way, not this time.

masonry
In the subway car I'm just one brick in a wall of solid flesh.

morphed
The dog got a haircut. Now when she stretches up on her hind legs to poke her nose over the edge of the table she looks part-canine, part-rodent, and part-pixie, with liquid alien eyes.

pointless
Conversations with people who have a gleam in their eye that tells me they're not really hearing me out, just waiting to pounce on what they expect to hear. Why should I talk, when they already know what I'm going to say?

simulation
Before reading comes pretend reading, where she turns the pages, recites the words she knows by heart, points out the pictures, and to all appearances looks as if she's reading.

wobbly
I'm heading into new territory on unsteady legs, as if there's ice under my feet.