Pungent

Pungent [adj] (puhn juhnt)

1. Sharp and irritating to the senses
   

--

If I was a kind of cheese, I think I'd be pungent.  While I adore mozzarella, drool over brie, and want to spoon with a nicely aged cheddar,  the more odoriferous cheeses strike me as my dairy equal.  Or rather, something of which I'd like to be equal.

Allow me to explain.

Many stinky cheeses do not have a pungent taste.  For example, Limburger only smells funky because of the rind.  The cheese itself is mild and smooth, but for many the rind's smell is just too much to take.  However, for those who take the time and work past the outer layer a lovely gastronomic pleasure awaits.  Limburger is not appreciated by all, but those who appreciate it are loyal and true. 

Hence my desire to be a stinky cheese. 

What kind of cheese are you?

Exonerate

Exonerate [verb] (ihg zahn uh rayt)

1. To clear of blame

--

I remember being exonerated.

I was young - a mere slice of who I am now; a wee sprout; a little shaver; a tiny tot, if you will.  To be more specific,  I must have been 6- or 7-years-old.  I went to the pantry for a snack, found a plastic baggy with pretzels, and started munching.  My memory then goes a tad fuzzy ... until I recall my mother yelling at me about  eating an entire box of Girl Scout cookies (the shortbread kind), my father in tow.  I tell her I didn't eat them; she holds up my empty plastic baggy as proof, saying something to the lines of, "How could you lie when I have the packaging right here?"  I start to cry, as I always do when confronted with authority.  It is at this moment that my father pokes his head in the pantry and emerges with a full sleeve of Girl Scout cookies. 

To say the least, I was exonerated.

Eschew

Eschew [verb] (ehs choo)

1. To shun
   
2. To avoid (as something wrong or distasteful)
   

--

Today, I am going to eschew proper blog content.  Instead, I present you with a picture of an art piece on the National Mall in Washington, DC taken by friends in the area.  The piece is called, Climate Change Plan B.

Yes, that is an ark.

Umbrage

Umbrage [noun] (uhm brihj)

1. Offense
   
2. Resentment
   

--

I reserve the right to take umbrage at bad movies.

After paying nearly $10 to see a film which I have seen advertised for a months on end, I expect a certain level of quality once the lights dim in the theater and the projector click-click-clicks on.  And by "quality," I do mean more than the normal Hollywood standards of focus, exposure, and framing (although, not so "standard" with certain films.  See: The Blair Witch Project) - I mean plot, characterization, and reason.

Oh, and respect for established parameters of the universe, if the movie is a slice from a series.

This brings me to George Lucas and his attempt to make Star Wars into a series of bad movies.

The original Star Wars trilogy is a classic, but George didn't see it that way.  George wanted more; he wanted a prequel series.  A series without intriguing characters, driving plot, or even basic comprehension of the Star Wars universe.  In this, he succeeded ... and, as a result, I and thousands of others can take umbrage in a big way. 

The best example of this emotional reaction to George's repurposed "vision" is a 70-minute review of Star Wars Episode One: The Phantom Menace, which systematically cuts down the film by pointing out all it's follies and misgivings while making you snort uncontrollably with random bits of dark humor and pizza rolls.    Check it out and feel the umbrage:




Note: The 7-part series is loaded with profanity, off-colored jokes, and depictions of violence.   View at your own discretion. 

Stolid

Stolid [adj] (stah lihd)

1. Unemotional
   
2. Lacking sensitivity
   

--

Keladry of Mindelan may be described as stolid, but she was never that to me.  She was calm and centered; driven and kind; wise and honorable. 

And fictional.  Definitely fictional.

You see, Keladry of Mindelan is a character in Tamora Pierces' Protector of the Small series and a much loved portion of my childhood. When the Kel series was released, I was already a rabid Pierce fan, having devoured her works in The Song of the Lioness, The Immortals, and The Circle of Magic repeatedly in my 6th grade year.   But I wasn't always the literary fan.

Before I discovered Pierce's Tortall Universe, I loathed reading.  Reading was a chore; boring and painful.  I read (and still read) at a pace that is all my own and often felt sub-par as a result.  I avoided reading aloud in class, even when I recited the passage in my head over and over and again.   I didn't want to stumble and blush and be stared at like I was incompetent.  Reading was painful; and then, one day while I was wandering in the library, I met Alanna of Trebond.  

I don't know why I decided to pick up Alanna: The First Adventure, but I do have a clear image of bending down to select that book.  The book was short - just over 200-pages - and it has a girl with a horse in medieval dress on the cover.  I loved the idea of medieval fantasy - the deep colors, the dress, the castles, and adventures - so I made the choice to ignore my bibliophobia and took the book home.  I've been a bibliophile since that day.  

Which brings me back to Kel, my favorite Tortall heroine.  You see, she's only the second girl to choose to go through the training to be a lady knight in over 600 years (Alanna, being the first).   She's brave, in a word, and I wanted to be like her.  She overcame huge odds with poise and honor - she appeared stolid to others, but that was merely in appearance.  Inside, she was passionate and roaring to act.  I liked that; as a middle schooler, I thought I could be like that.  

While I can't attest to ever reaching the level of "Kel," I can say that her series was and is one of my favorite to this day.  If I don't re-read the series at least once at year, I feel completely and irrecoverably stolid. 

Prodigal

Prodigal [adj] (prah dih guhl)

1. Lavish
2. Wasteful
   

--

"Isn't there another 'prodigal?'  Something like the Progigal Son?"

"Prodigal.  Prodigal Son."

"No, that's different."

"Think there's only one Prodigal Son."

"No, the Progigal Son is a good thing.  You'd say, 'The Progigal Son has returned!' and proceed to give him gifts and camels.  See?  Good.  Prodigal is a negative word, meaning wasteful and lavish.  See?  Not good."

"Um, while that's an interesting take on it, that's not exactly how it goes.  The Prodigal Son was lavish and wasteful - that's why he came back.  The point is that he returned home and his father welcomed him, despite his waste."

"Oh."

"And, he got calf, not a camel. "

"Huh.  Bummer for him."

DIssonance

Dissonance [noun] (dihs uh nuhns)

1. A harsh and disagreeable combination, especially of sounds
   

---

Rarely does post-decision dissonance hit me after making a purchase.  I'm not an impulse buyer when it comes clothing, electronics, or the latest music download (although, there have been occasions [*coughcough*MichaelBuble*coughcough* when I'm a tad trigger happy with iTunes].  I am, however, an impulse shopper.

The difference?

• Impulse buyers leave the store with something and feel bad about it for a time. 
• Impulse shoppers leave the store without purchasing but pine over an item for days, weeks, even years.  

For example: The Sweater, 2006.  The perfect, yet too expensive Sweater.  I tried it on, loved it, and put it back when I saw the price.  Since that faithful Fall day, I've pined - pined in a way that makes me mention The Sweater every Fall and Winter, to my family's shegrin.

See, while post-decision dissonance rarely hits me after making a purchase, it often goes on a full-frontal attack when I don't.