• social media icons

    In case you’re feeling social

    Social media sites come and go (remember MySpace and LiveJournal?), but I always try to join the latest ones as soon as possible.

    One reason I do so is because I’m curious about the next new thing. Will it connect with people? Will it help them connect with others? Will it assist me in sharing information with the world, be it news or pictures of cute kitties?

    I also sign up for a professional reason: I want to brand my name. There are 26 Jade Walkers in the U.S., at least two or three in the U.K. and possibly two or three more in Australia. If I want to use my name as a screenname, I have to snag it first. Note: I’m not always successful.

    Although my accounts on Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, Goodreads and Tumblr are still active, I’ve been using them less than in the past. However, if you, like me, have jumped head-first into the burgeoning worlds of Post+, Spoutible and Threads, feel free to say hello.

  • Pen writing

    Mark my words v.5

    As I’ve mentioned in past blog posts (seen here, here, here and here), I’m drawn to certain words. The attraction is often a word’s meaning or spelling, but sometimes I just like the way a word rolls off my tongue.

    These are more of my favorites:

    Anemones

    Rigmarole

    Paralian

    Demitasse

    Finagle

    Antiquarian

    Librarian

    Attic

    Maelstrom

    Sabaism

    Beguile

    Bejeweled

    Bedeviled

    Dumfungled

    Obituary

    Gossamer

    Halcyon

    Volcanologist

    Donair

    Laminate

    Amok

    Elixir

    Gobblefunk

    Latibulate

    Schmuck

    What are some of your favorites?

  • Books on a bench

    Quote of the day

    “To acquire the habit of reading is to construct for yourself a refuge from almost all the miseries of life.” –William Somerset Maugham

  • fear of dentist

    The power of dental dread

    Last week, I went to the orthodontist for yet another exam and braces-tightening. I’ve been doing this every eight to 10 weeks for more than two years now and I’m still not used to it.

    During this particular appointment, the ortho lamented my jaw’s lack of progress (me too, lady). She then jammed a small metal file in between my teeth and scraped back and forth, which is akin to hearing nails scratch a chalkboard — only in your mouth and with the addition of agony.

    Just before I fled the chair, the ortho took a moment to compliment my behavior, saying she was impressed by how I had handled my more recent appointments.

    As I mentioned at the time, my first dental visits since the fainting spell that broke my face involved undergoing brutal procedures that left me trembling and crying. Every subsequent visit has been slightly easier since I know what to expect, and more terrible, since I know what to expect. For example, I always keep yogurt and mashed potatoes in the house now because after each visit, my teeth and gums hurt so much that I’m unable able to chew food for a few days.

    There’s also the dread factor. The orthodontist’s office sends me a text and an email in advance of each appointment to remind me that I have more misery to endure. The moment those confirmation notices appear on my electronic devices, apprehension sinks into my bones. Which means I’m anxious before I even arrive and stressed during the experience itself. The post-work pain only reinforces that.

    So, when she praised my newfound ability to hide my feelings, I responded by pointing out all of the above. What I should’ve said was “thank you.” (Apparently, my ability to be graceful and diplomatic goes right out the window when I’m suffering teeth torture.)

    Needless to say, the ortho is skilled at her job. I have no doubt she means well. And I truly appreciate all of the hard work that she and the dentist and the periodontist and their techs have done to put my mouth back together. But when this whole rigamarole is over, I hope to never step foot in their offices ever again.