I’m notorious for getting sayings wrong or just using a wrong – but similar – word for something. Last week I told my coworker, “Well that really came out of right field.” He looked at me and said, “Yeah, or left field.” If my good friend, Beth, were there she would have asked me, “Krystal, are you having a stroke?” I’m usually off just enough with these things that I just end up sounding crazy.
Case in point:
Once in an interview at Beth’s company I explained to FOUR managers that, “I’m really over the hill about working with a CMS.” I was trying to say, “I’m really over the moon.” I’m excited, I enjoy it, it gives me pleasure. Instead I said I’m really old and perhaps out of touch when working with a CMS.
Over Thanksgiving dinner this year I was explaining to my entire family how difficult it is to be a working mom who breastfeeds, especially when I have to pump in the middle of a daylong conference. I said, “How awkward to walk of a closet carrying bottles of my own excrement.” Umm, no, that’s not what I meant. Excretion. Excretion is what I meant. Not a whole lot better, but it’s not poop.
The other day I was chatting with E and talking about my ability to care for plants. I said, “It’s not that I’m a black eye, but I don’t want to have a rainforest in my house either.” E just nodded and continued with the discussion, two minutes later I realized what I had just said and yelled out, “Black THUMB!” He knew. He married me, he knew.
Several years ago E and I were walking out to our car at the mall and I said, “Where did we park? I’m so disillusioned.” Well, perhaps. But meant I was disoriented. Can I help it if I was born dizzy?! [name that reference]
I say things like this so often, I have started to avoid certain words because I just *know* I’ll say them wrong.
- gesticulate: For some reason this word and testicle are all wrapped together in my mind.
- literally: It literally drives me up a wall when I misuse this word. Ok, not literally.
- self-deprecating: Am I the only one who thinks that’s just too easy to confuse with defecating. Although I do have self-deprecating humor, I don’t want to misstep and say I’m pooping myself. #awkward
- sconce vs. scone: Ok, I’m actually throwing this one in here for my mom. She always calls the delightful pastry a sconce, which I find ridiculous.
Luckily I know the difference because I made some to share at a brunch with my best girl friends this weekend.
Kerin, Nicole, and Tara. Nicole hosted and made an amazing croissant ring with eggs and bacon.
So so good.
A couple of our main men crashed the brunch too.
Little K and Colin, best buds.
These took a bit longer to prepare because of the glazing process, and in my opinion it made them way too sweet. So I think this could very easily be a five star recipe. (Recipe here, from The Pioneer Woman.)