and the thought that she would share that pain with me, and that there was an ounce of anything I could help with...it's nothing compared to what they do

Offering comfort to someone grieving is not nothing. There are days when that moment is everything.

I hope your meds are already kicking in and you get good sleep.

Um.

No one can use words anymore; this guy used them ALL.

It ain't pretty. [link]

In both instances, the program is trying to reach out to new students. It sounds better than strong arm.

Okay, sure, in that context you are in fact "reaching out to" someone. It's appropriate.

I'm good with that. Or, say, "reaching out to" offer comfort to a bereaved person.

When you're talking about, say, contacting authors who are weeks late with their proofs, we're not reaching out, we're demanding and threatening, politely.

But...also this. And really, when you are a reporter trying to get ahold of a grocery store manager, "reaching out to" just sounds so hippie-dippy, like you're trying to make a deep soulful connection, when all you want is some cold hard info so you can put together a 15-second clip about soup for the 10:00 news.

It just implies some sort of emotional investment, when, in the vast majority of the cases in which I hear it used (my experience, okay?), all it means is "we called this dude and we got dumped into voicemail."

Also, I note with amusement that in the 1930s people were railing against the use of the word "contact" (a noun!) to mean "to communicate with," and its use as a verb was controversial until 1969. Nero Wolfe would be scolding me for wanting my assistant to just say "contact"!

Ahahahaha! I would be the scold in 1930 saying "stop using 'contact,' you hippie-dippy weirdos!" BUSTED.

ION, I am awake and chugging 32 oz. of water for an abdominal ultrasound in 90 minutes (for as-yet unexplained pelvic/abdominal pain). This is the transvaginal ultrasound that requires a full bladder and SUCKS so very much because not being allowed to pee is the cruelest thing in the world.

And unexplained pelvic pain sucks a lot, too.

Eeps -- good luck with that, Steph.

I just now heard on the radio that Marketplace wants to have a discussion of hated business jargon on their Facebook page, so we are right on time with this.

Condolences to Nilly and her family. So sorry to hear of your loss.

Continued relief-ma for ita. Hopefully one day we won't need to say that to you ever again.

I hope they find something easy to fix, Teppy.

I have many complaints about my job, but the UPres just announced that we are getting summer Fridays (off at noon), and 22 holidays next year, so I will try to say nice things today.

Oh, god, I got a call from work at 6AM telling me a system was down, and asking what to do next. I asked if he realised I'd been out sick for the past two days, and if he'd tried the admin/developer (who's in the central time zone, BTW) and that was a no and a no. He did hang up, but called back at 6:20, because he couldn't find the developer. I walked him through some checks, but he asked me questions I don't know how I was supposed to answer from bed, which is clearly where I was, and he wasn't using all the information he had to hand either, including his brain.

Differential diagnosis kids--it's not just for the pros anymore. Or, rather, you're a pro now. Use it. Our manager did tell him to leave me alone.

My goal is to come back online to the office this afternoon, but I'm pretty wiped right now.

Oh, the chattiness of men of a certain age. Hubby will talk the ear off perfect strangers, and if those strangers are men his age or older, they're happy to chatter right back at him. I have spent many a visit to the supermarket trading sympathetic looks with someone else's wife as our husbands, who have never met, trade observations on health, politics, and what's wrong with today's kids. I'm not sure how women got this reputation for being hopeless chatterboxes. Maybe the womenfolk in the cave would be talking a lot, but I bet they were making clothes or prepping food. I can just picture a bunch of mammoth hunters leaning on their spears out in the brush, talking about how hard it is to find game and did you see what Og's daughter was wearing.

My dad loves talking to people. Many times we'd we waiting after church for my dad so we could go home, and there would just be our car and one other car (belonging to the guy my dad was talking to) in the church parking lot.

Ugh. A former colleague sent me a resume for someone she knows who is looking at some positions in my company and asked that I try to steer it up the line. First off, the email chain referenced like nine jobs that she was interested in. Really? Plus the resume is an eye-bleeding mix of fonts, capitalization, and even red text. And her degree(s) are from online and/or marginally accredited places.

The person who made the ask is someone I like and respect, so I'm taking it on faith that this person is actually a lot better than they come off. (The person is also from Dubai, so that may explain the online degrees and possibly different cultural expectations re what a resume should look like.) But come on.