Rack and Wrack

People! Stop "wracking" your brains! It sounds terribly painful. Actually, so does "racking" your brain. Read on...

Racking something is to stretch it out, as if it were on the medieval torture instrument seen here. You "rack your brain" to try to get information from it. It sounds like a terribly mean thing to do.

Wracking refers to disastrous accidents. Think of it as being similar to "wreck."

He's back...

I've been racking my brain trying to figure out how this lion got into the kitchen. Tonight's dinner has been wracked by his shenanigans.

Ambivalent and Indifferent

There is a lovely scene in Girl, Interrupted (one of my favorite movies) where Susanna tells her therapist that she is "ambivalent" about something. The therapist says that's interesting, because it's clear that Susanna means that she is indifferent, so the therapist corrects her (eliciting what appears to be an actually indifferent response).

Ambivalent means being pulled strongly in two different directions by an issue.

Indifferent means having no strong opinion about the issue one way or the other.

 

I'm ambivalent to the sheep invasion I'm witnessing (it is simultaneously adorable and terrifying) but I am indifferent to the reasons for it; I just don't care why it's happening.

Gyp

I heard, years ago, that the word "gyp" (pronounced "jip") was culturally insensitive. I stopped using it immediately.

According to the OED, gyp means (among other things):
(noun) U.S. slang for a thief.
(noun) A fraudulent action, or a swindle.
(verb) To cheat, trick, or swindle.

You probably already knew that. What you may not have known, however, is where it came from: the word gypsy. Which is no big deal, right? Well, actually, that group of people prefer to go by Rom (of which the plural is Roma or Romani).

Yes, like Esmeralda from The Hunchback of Notre Dame

The Romani historically have a reputation of being nomadic and staying in a town just long enough to trick everyone out of some money before moving on to the next town. This is, obviously, an unflattering stereotype, but  we still use gyp to describe this sort of behavior, so it unfortunately doesn't look like it's going away anytime soon.

Insure and Ensure

I overpronounce these when saying them, as if to say, "I know which one I'm using. Really, I do."

To insure something is to guarantee that no loss or harm will come to it, usually by way of purchasing an insurance policy.

To ensure something is to make something certain or sure; to guarantee it.

As you can see, they're very similar. Really, to insure something is to ensure that it will be safe (or you will be provided with appropriate compensation in the unfortunate event that it meets some terrible end).

Ensure that you turn off the stove when you're finished cooking; our home isn't insured against fire damage.

Decimate

If you're anything like me, you think decimate sounds pretty detrimental. If a horde of orcs decimated the Shire, you'd expect the Shire to be pretty flattened and burned to the ground, with nearly all the hobbits dead, right?

Not under Gandalf's watch, you wouldn't.

But in reality, only one-tenth of the hobbits would be dead. You see, decimate means to kill, destroy, or remove one in every ten of something.

It also used to refer to tithing, because people were meant to give 10% to the church.

It can also mean to divide into tenths.

Decimate has the same root as decimal: deci- means ten, like how octo- means eight or tri- means three.

Let's get Kitchen Lion to help us out here:

The lion in the kitchen decimated the cabinets; there were ten, but now there are only nine. The tenth one was destroyed by the lion.

Thank you, Kitchen Lion!

Compliment and Complement

Both of these words indicate nice things,  but they do not mean the same thing.

A compliment is a nice thing to say to someone.

To complement something is to go well with it, perhaps bringing out the best in it.

I gave the hostess a compliment on the meal she had prepared, but the wine I brought didn't complement it at all.

NaPoWriMo Wrap-Up

There you have it: one month of writing a poem every single day. I plan to do this again next year! It was fun.

Let's recap what I wrote...

Day 1: 5 haiku about weather
Day 2: a villanelle called "The Secret"
Day 3: an English sonnet about Weeping Angels
Day 4: free-form in rhyming couplets called "When It's Closed"
Day 5: rhyming couplets about my Little Visitor, Clyde
Day 6: a villanelle called "Askew"
Day 7: 3 haiku for Amy's birthday
Day 8: free-form tie-in with my Camp NaNoWriMo novel, Comorbidity
Day 9: rhyming couplets about library instruction
Day 10: 5 "double-definition" senryu
Day 11: 5 haiku about the Aquarium
Day 12: rhyming couplets about paradoxes
Day 13: rhyming quatrains about Gimli (my cat, not the character)
Day 14: free-form / rhyming couplets & tercets about writer's block
Day 15: 3 haiku about pollen
Day 16: a translation poem from the Vietnamese poem "April"
Day 17: a limerick about the fickle weather
Day 18: free-form about sleep deprivation
Day 19: a redaction poem from the Wikipedia article for "brown"
Day 20: free-form / experiment in sight rhyme about wind
Day 21: a villanelle about The Silence
Day 22: 5 haiku about earth science
Day 23: Italian sonnet about talkers in the library
Day 24: senryu of celebration
Day 25: villanelle about a villain ("the villain-elle")
Day 26: acrostic of rhyming couplets about onomatopoeia
Day 27: 3 "double-definition" senryu
Day 28: poem about writing poems (lines rhyme with 1, 2, 3...)
Day 29: erasure poem from the Wikipedia article about storms
Day 30: 5 senryu about the library