My favorite punctuation is the question mark. I’m a curious, research-oriented kind of guy, so it fits.

My least favorite? The exclamation point. I hate them. Up until recently, I never used exclamation points in my writing. But I’ve recently started scattering them around every now and then to be ironic or to actually show a small amount of forced enthusiasm. I also don’t mind using them in casual writing.

When it comes to punctuation in the English language, here’s what I find interesting–and what must be a nightmare for non-native speakers. You can write the exact same thing and, by using different punctuation, change the meaning a dozen times.

Here’s what I mean. Let’s say you want to make a comment about Jonathan Franzen’s vivacious personality. You might say:

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Couch potato

July 10, 2013Uncategorizedgemmamillenson

Vocabat

Clay said in a comment on yesterday’s post that he wants to work telebobointo a conversation one day, and I started wondering how to say couch potato in Spanish. Apparently, telebobo means couch potato somewhere– in your country, perhaps? It makes me think of the expression the boob tube, a phrase I’ve always wanted to say but that sounds so dated. Who says boob anymore for dummy? I’ve never called a TV an idiot box either. How do Spanish speakers insult their televisions? Caja tonta and caja boba are two options I’m seeing.

Couch potato is such a great phrase when you think about it. Why potato? What did he ever do? Fortunately, this manna-like food doesn’t seem to have suffered too badly for the unfortunate association with television junkies. I just learned the phrase mouse potato–one who regularly wastes an inordinate amount of time on the computer–and I’m…

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101 Books: The Movie

July 10, 2013Uncategorizedgemmamillenson

101 Books

If you will, imagine with me:

A man, mid-thirties, brown hair, sits on a couch. In his hands, he holds Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret with a mild expression of pain and discomfort on his face. He looks puzzled. The soft sounds of a SportsCenter anchor eminate in the background.

A 3-year-old boy runs past, pushing a plastic lawnmower out of which the lower torso of an upside-down Buzz Lightyear pertrudes from the plastic gas tank.

The man’s lovely wife, now seven months pregnant, asks the man if he will bring a laundry basket downstairs. He replies, “Honey, can’t you see I’m reading Judy Blume here?”

[Fade to black.]

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