Verbs on the Go

I put a whole lot of miles on my car this summer. I drove through the Piedmont, Pocono, Catskill, Adirondack, Green, Allegheny and Blue Ridge mountain ranges. This trip was a much needed vacation from work and school and life in general. I camped for five days and four nights, visited the Baseball Hall of Fame, swam in lakes and rivers and waterfalls, and met up with friends for hiking and catching up and some more swimming. And the views were breathtaking. You certainly don't see this in the city.

Peeked vs. Peaked

The view at the top of Sterling Mountain

Imagine your two eyes peeking around a corner, and every "A" you've written has peAked like a mountain on the page. Got to love mnemonic devices that are both auditory and visual.

Speeded vs. Sped

Driving across Lake Champlain Bridge

Speeded means to accelerate, sped means to hasten to. If you want to get technical, speeded is used with a direct object and sped is used with a preposition. Slightly different meanings used for slightly difference constructs. Someone might have speeded the process, while another might have sped towards a conclusion. (I've talked about a similar definition-based verb usage in my Lighted vs. Lit post.)

Sneaked vs. Snuck

Sunrise in Smuggler's Notch

Sneaked is the past participial of to sneak, snuck is, well, utter nonsense. In fact, why we think it's more natural to say snuck instead of sneaked, I will never know as this form of irregular conjugation occurs with very few verbs (clung, dug, drunk, hung, rung, run, shrunk, sprung, stuck, struck, sung, sunk, swum, swung, thrust, trod, won, wrung). You don't say rusk but risked. Struck might be past tense for strike, but streaked is past tense for streak. Even hung has an exception when referencing a person being hanged. However, I concede that language is constantly developing, and snuck is kind of a new linguistic evolution. Even if I don't like it.

And now I need to get back to working on my critical thesis. Until next summer.

Rain vs. Rang vs. Reign vs. Rein: A Battle of Four Verbs

Rain (v) to send down in great quantities, as small pieces or objects. From Middle English reinen, meaning...er...rain, also related to Gothic rign.

I was very much looking forward to the Kite Festival this year, unfortunately, one of the most common signs of spring is rain. And rain it did on Saturday morning. So instead, I did laundry and mending and cleaning and shopping and reading. My life is so tough.

Rang (v) simple past tense of ring; to resonate, echo or sound. From Old Norse hringja and German ringen, meaning to wrestle or struggle.

After a lazy weekend, it's been rather difficult to respond to my alarm clock this morning. The funny thing is, I was awake long before it went off, but there's just something about a warm bed and a good book first thing in the morning that makes me not want to move. I think it's just the calm before the storm.

Reign (v) to have control, rule or influence. From Latin noun rēgnum, meaning kingship or royalty.

It's spring break for most of the country, and DC is flooded with tourists. My usually calm Metro stop is now overrun with school groups and families hailing from such exotic places as Milwaukee and Portland. But despite the newcomers not following the etiquette of walk left/stand right on the escalators and forming long lines at the ticket kiosks because they don't understand how the pricing works, I actually enjoy when the tourists take over the city. Mostly because that's when old friends come to visit.

Rein (v) to curb, restrain or control. From Latin retinēre, meaning to hold back.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to corral four children hopped up on Easter candy who have spent four days in a van? Yeah, I'm sure you do. My house is usually such a quiet, peaceful place, but every once in awhile, chaos can be a lot of fun. For the holiday, my roommate's brother brought his four kids on a road trip to visit us from Michigan. Her other brother and his wife are also on their way from North Carolina with their 2-year-old daughter, my friend flies in from California by way of Greece, and my other friend's family took a last-minute trip to Massachusetts so she's driving down from Maryland to spend the weekend. We have a rather full house this Easter, but I wouldn't want it any other way.

Unfortunate--yet funny--grammatical error

It's been a rough day, but when I saw this in my email, I couldn't help but laugh.

Yes, you are reading that as it was sent: "Grammar Girl's 101 Words Every High School Graduate Need to Know." A blatant grammatical error in a promotion for a grammar book. Luckily, the actual book and every other promotion I have seen for it has the correct subject/verb agreement.

I have great respect for the writers' organization that sent this email, and in all the years I have seen information from them, this is the worst error I have ever caught. I am also very familiar with Mignon Fogarty's work and know that she is a true grammar guru.

This just goes to show that even the best of us make silly mistakes when it comes to grammar. So don't be so hard on yourself or on others. Mistakes happen, people forgive and forget them, and we try our damnedest never to look so foolish again.

Lighted vs. Lit: Illuminating the Sky for 4th of July

light·ed (adj) having light or illumination; bright. From Old English lēoht, meaning illuminated, with ties to noun forms in German (licht), Latin (lūx) and Greek (leukós).

I'm not sure when a Chinese tradition became synonymous with American independence, but fireworks reign supreme in DC on the 4th of July, and everyone scrambles to find the best seat in the house. After plans fell through for going to the National Mall with out-of-town guests, I was planning on meeting up with some friends at my office to head to the roof for a stellar view over the Potomic River. But that went bust when my parking pass failed to open the garage after hours. Instead, we crashed my friend Gordon's party where he promised spectacular views of all the fireworks shows in DC and Maryland. Only things didn't quite turn out as planned.

Almost an hour before the National Mall show was scheduled to start, the horizon began lighting up with fireworks from Gaithersburg, Rockville, Germantown, Kensington, Takoma Park, College Park, Six Flags America and Bowie. I'm not sure where we could see them all from, but it was a line of fire stretching for miles. When we could hear the boom came from across the river, we knew the national show had begun. Looking out to the monuments we saw...nothing. Absolutely nothing! Directly in our line of sight, the only high-rise building between us and the Mall stood haloed in multicolored hues of the fireworks we were supposed to be enjoying.

lit (v) a simple past tense and past participle of light. From same origins as lighted. Also (adj) under the influence of liquor or narcotics; intoxicated (usually followed by up). From early 20th century American slang. Also (n) abbreviation of literature. From the Latin litterātūra, meaning grammar.

As we left Gordon's place, one of his friends began admiring a display case by the door. They were talking about how nice it would look "lit up." Of course I had to laugh and say, "I'm sure everything looks cooler when lit." Not understanding what I was talking about (because apparently an IT guy and an architect don't find the same humor in words as I do), I explained the difference between lit as a verb and lit as an adjective. And them, being good friends and nerds of the tech variety, laughed at my lit nerd joke.

So I missed the national fireworks this year, but at least I missed them in the company of some great people. And the well-lighted sky offered a backdrop for a very memorable night.

(Despite common belief that lit and lighted can be used interchangeably, with lit being more informal, that isn't true. While lighted can be used as the past participial for light, lit used as an adjective is always slang for being intoxicated.)

Etymology vs. Entomology: Two unrelated words with two unrelated stories

et·y·mol·o·gy (n) the study of historical linguistic change, especially as manifested in individual words. From the Greek étymo, meaning true, and lógos, meaning reason.

For someone with as poor spelling skills as I have, I sure do love me some word origins. So it should really come as no surprise that as a friend and I stood in line at the grocery story, we debated the word origins of ass (i.e., rear end) and asinine (i.e., silly). Our conversation was quite animated, and as we were in a rather busy grocery store in D.C. rather late at night, I'm sure many customers were glad they had left their children at home.

The guy behind us in line--whom I believe was just as intrigued by our conversation as we were--finally looked it up on his phone. Come to find out, ass (i.e., rear end) and asinine (i.e., silly) do not share word origins. However, ass (i.e., donkey) and asinine (i.e., silly) do. We thought this wonderful news as we could then feel completely justified in using the word ass in reference to a person acting ridiculous without being accused of using vulgarity.

(Notice the correct usage of i.e. from the Latin id est, meaning that is, and not e.g. from the Latin exemplī grātiā, meaning for example.)

en·to·mol·o·gy (n) the branch of zoology dealing with insects. From the Greek éntoma, meaning insect, and lógos, meaning reason.

My friend took an entomology class in college, and we'd catch bugs for him to mount and study. At the time I lived in a basement apartment, and my roommates caught this enormous praying mantis because they knew David would want it. This mantis was so aggressive that it hissed and screamed and snapped all the way to the ethyl acetate then frozen for two days*. It was totally disturbing but looked really cool mounted.

Only the next day, David went back to the lab and found that it was a zombie mantis come back to life. Angrier than ever, it was struggling to free itself from the mounting block. So he drowned it in ethanol and did some other things to ensure its demise that I won't go into. I had nightmares about it coming to get me in my sleep for a week. I still can't see a praying mantis without a little shiver running down my spine.

(Despite the homophone--or heterograph--a praying mantis is called such because it looks like it's in the act of supplication and not because of its aggressive perusal of prey.)

*Apparently my memory isn't that good because David had to correct some of my zombie mantis details. But he tells me the mantis is still in the BYU-Idaho insect collection as far as he knows.