An Explanation of Extra Words

No idea what possessed me to think I didn't need to explain all those words, but duh, if you're not from there, you just might not have a clue what some of the terms mean.  So, here's an explanation, followed by some more terms I thought of.  And since I'm giving specifics that gives away where I'm from, I'll stray from my cryptic writing today and let you know that I grew up in NOLA, although I'm sure many of you figured that out from my anniversary post.

K&B Purple--K&B (Katz and Beshtoff) was a local drug store. Their sign was purple, and that particular shade of purple became known as K&B purple around the city. I'm feeling a little silly now because I was going to mention their ice cream, but it seems as though who ever wrote for wikipedia managed to cover that too.  K&B NEVER should have sold to Rite Aid.  K&B was SOOOO much better!  Rite Aid made a near fatal mistake in their purchase too--they had a contract to only sell Pepsi products, so Coke products could not be carried in the store for a period of time (one year?) after the purchase.  BIG mistake in the south, especially among the large group of people who did not want K&B to close.

Grocery--kind of self explanatory.  It's a grocery store, but I just said grocery (left off the store part) growing up.  Apparently people around here find that weird.

Snowballs--are just like sno-cones, but they are made with the most amazing shaved ice as opposed to crushed ice.  Every bite is like letting flavored snowflakes dance on your tongue. Delicious!  Hansen's, I believe, began the whole shaved ice idea.  They are very well known in NOLA.  When I was little, my parents and their friends would get a HUGE snowball from there for the adults (and perhaps add an adult ingredient) and another one for the children (we're talking small garbage can size) and go to the park.  My parents actually still have one of them that they use as a fun garbage can.  Pontchartrain Pete graciously allowed me to link his visit, and let's face it, if you can't go yourself, the next best thing is tagging along for the ride. 

Bobo--a booboo, but there we said bobo.  My skin crawls when Linus says booboo.  I'm just a bobo person.

Gimme some sugar--give me a kiss.  It's just part of a greeting there. 

Alligator pear--an avocado.  Think about it...the skin of an avocado looks like and is rough like an alligator and it's shaped like a pear.

Neutral ground--a median.  The neutral ground was literally neutral ground years ago between the French and the Spanish.  At least I think that's the case.

Poboys are sandwiches made on long pieces of French bread.  They're called subs, hoagies, heroes, etc elsewhere, but trust me, they aren't on real French bread!

A muffaletta is a sandwich made with ham, salami, provolone cheese, and olive salad served on a large (Italian?) round loaf.  It's yummy, but it will make your breath stink!

Dressed--lettuce, tomato, pickles...you get the picture

Grillades--meat (veal?) served with gravy, often with grits for breakfast.

Gumbo, at least within my family never mixed seafood with meat. Never.  We always had seafood gumbo. Here they make seafood, chicken, and pork gumbo all mixed together.  

Shotgun house--small, narrow house with doors connecting room after room. Supposedly you can shoot a shotgun from the front door, and the pellets will go through the back door.  The houses we were looking at were much wider than traditional shotguns, but they still have the room after room theme.

Camelback--a shotgun type house that has a second floor added to the back, thus looking like a camel's back.

Break tag--an inspection sticker.  

A go cup is literally a to go cup for outside.  When I lived there, they were plastic rather than styrofoam, but that may have changed. Usually they contain a drink with alcohol. **I need an itsy bitsy bit of clarification here.  Go cups can (or could, I haven't done it lately) contain alcohol in them on the streets, and you didn't get in trouble. I think that's actually why they were used.  While talking with a friend (at the park of all places, I'm going to hell!), she told me that you can't have alcohol in any open container outside.  Is this true? I though open container was an open beer can/bottle, NOT a cup!  Yikes! 

And now for some I forgot:

Hello????  How could I forget Lagniappe?????  It's definitely not used everywhere!

Y'all, if you're in NOLA, it's a streetcar, never ever a trolly.  It cracks me up when tourists try to fit in, yet they'll make mortal errors like trolly.  

Directions are explained according to the river.  I was dumbfounded (which likely has a lot more to do with my utter lack of geographic knowledge outside NOLA) the first time I was given these directions, "At the intersection, go west for 1.5 miles."  Huh?  Army can find his way out of a maze blindfolded, but I can't get to my destination even with a gps.  I need directions like 'go towards the river!'  That I can do.

And for fun, I'll do a pronunciation guide soon. Look for the CORRECT way to say New Orleans, praline, cement (haha, I know it's not just a local word, but I found out recently that people from New Orleans are the only ones that say it the way I do), etc. :)

So, do you use any of these words? Do you have any word that you want a pronunciation for? ;)

Extra Local

Nola had a post a few weeks ago that made me think about words or phrases that are only used locally.  I commented that I was shocked to learn that "K&B Purple" was not universally understood. 

There are several others that I've found to be only local words and phrases.  When I moved here, I was unmercifully teased about saying, "I've got to stop at the grocery."  Apparently people expect to hear the word store immediately following grocery, but where I grew up we just left it at grocery.  Another one is the term sno-ball when referring to a shaved ice treat.  Around here they say snow cone.  I'd never heard anything other than sno-ball growing up (unless referring to Hansen's).  

We also said "bobo" (as opposed to booboo).  I've since learned it's the French influence that makes bobo common back "home."  And while we're on the subject of French influence, I'll mention the amazing difference in pronunciation of words where I grew up and where I live now. Wow!  

How 'bout "Give me some sugar."  I didn't realize that one wasn't universal until earlier this year.   I actually still think it is, and people around here just don't know what it means! :)

Alligator pear.  Do other people really not call avocados alligator pears?  Really, the term makes perfect sense to me!

I called a "median" a "neutral ground" for years after we moved here, and for years I got the strangest looks.  

I eat poboys, not hoagies or any other term that's used!  That opens up a whole new topic: food!  I didn't know grillades weren't universally prepared.  I'm not a fan of them, but I assumed grits and grillades went together everywhere.  And gumbo? Here they mix chicken, pork and seafood in the same gumbo.  NEVER was that done in my family.  Maybe I should stay off the food topic, 'cause I could go on and on about how French bread just isn't the same anywhere outside the area where I grew up.  I could also go off on muffalatas.  A real one does not contain mayonnaise or tomatoes.   One more about food: it appears the term "dressed" isn't universal either.  I got the most disgusted look when I used that term for the first time here.  

When we were looking at houses, we looked in a subdivision here that is supposed to be modeled after some homes where I grew up.  I commented that I'd rather a camelback than a shotgun, and the guy who claimed he was from my hometown had NO idea what I was talking about.  I knew by his fake accent that he wasn't really from there, but his lack of knowledge confirmed it.  I guarantee anybody who lives in there knows those terms.   Really though, I did not know they aren't used by all.

Break tag--no idea that wasn't the term for an inspection sticker everywhere.  Actually, I'd never heard the term inspection sticker until I moved.  

Nobody here knows the term "go cup" either.  It seems kind of obvious to me.

I'm constantly finding other words and phrases that are not used where I live now.  Of course, there are words/phrases that are local to where I now live that I'm leaning too.  

What words/phrases are common where you live but not elsewhere?  And for goodness sakes, if it doesn't sound like it's spelled, give me a pronunciation guide or I'll ask you to pronounce Tchoupitoulas!

A Little Extra Organization Talk

We are attempting to move most of our stuff to the new house, and the movers will mostly move furniture and large items.  In theory it's a great idea because it will save money.  In reality it's another story. For example, I set a goal of emptying my kitchen by the end of the weekend.  After I cleaned all the cabinets at the new house, I moved my dishes over.  I bought one pack of paper plates last weekend so that we'd have plates to eat on.  It's been easy, and I must admit, it's been nice knowing that I have accomplished something towards getting us moved.  There has been one little problem though: dinner last night.  We had filet mignon, twice baked potatoes, and asparagus...on paper plates.  There's just something about a filet; it needs to be served on a real plate!

Another thing I have moved is hanging clothes.  Army thinks I have some anal tendencies, and truth be told, he's probably right.  Now all my hanging clothes are grouped by color.  They are NOT in rainbow order as I HAVE to start out light and end up dark, and let's face it, yellow is lighter than red.  My long sleeve shirts are on the top row, and my short sleeve ones are on the bottom.  For the past four years, Army and I have shared a closet.  Our entire married life before that we had separate closets.  It just hasn't been feasible to have things completely my way in the closet we share, but now that I'm moving on over to the other one, I'm LOVING it!  Army walked in just as I got the finishing touches on my hanging order, and before he made it completely in, he said, "Hey, Lanny, I'd be willing to bet you have your clothes arranged by color, huh?"  Apparently I'm predictable too.  

Army thinks I'm a little bit on the obsessive side that my closet is arranged like it is.  I think I'm just a little organized. I'll admit they are also in size order right now (because yes, things do vary between two sizes in my closet), but I know they won't stay in size order. That'd be too difficult to maintain once we move in. If I were anal, I'd keep them in size order, but since I'm not, I'll let that go. ;)

So, how are your closets organized?  

PS-There's also a slight possibility my spices are in alphabetical order (it's easier to find the one you're looking for that way), and there may be a few more issues like that, but I still stand by organized rather than anal.   Maybe my question should be a little more broad: how are things organized in your house (not only your closets)?

Extra Heartbroken

My heart is broken.  My best friend's six month old baby has passed away.  Not only do I grieve the loss of a precious little boy, but I ache with all my being for my friend. Losing a child is my biggest fear in life, and she's experiencing it. 

:(

An Extra Confession

I am a nerd. A big ole nerdy nerd. 

How sad!

My nerdiness became quite apparent the other day.  There is a big, nationally televised sporting event practically in the backyard of our new house.  I can hear the announcer from my back deck, it's that close.  Unfortunately, since it's such a big event, the traffic in the area has increased exponentially (trying for the nerdy words) over the past few days.  To offset this increase, our city has stationed several police officers in the area to direct traffic.  Keep in mind directing traffic in our area simply means manually doing the traffic lights.  

Army and I had to go to the new house Wednesday night.  Without thinking, we went in the main entrance to our subdivision.  As we came over a hill, we were met by a police officer who was standing about 300 feet from the traffic light.  Army had to come to a complete stop because he was standing in our lane.  He walked up to the car and filled his chest with air, tilted his SUNglasses down a bit on his nose so he could look over them (it was dusk, no need for sunglasses!), and in his crisp white short sleeve cotton shirt, polyester blue shorts that were pulled up to his bellybutton, tennis shoes, and socks pulled up to just below his knees (lovely image, huh?) said, "Son, where do you think you are going?"  Army told him we were planning to take a right at the traffic light because our home was off that street.  Mr. Police Officer rolled his eyes (!) and said, "IF you planned to turn at that street, you needed to have your turn signal on before you came over that hill. Do you think I can read minds? I need to know your intentions, that why we have rules, Son."  Army simply said, "Yes sir" and rolled his window up as quickly as he possibly could, mainly because he knows I, in all of my nerdiness, know traffic rules like nobody's business. He was scared to death I'd say something and get him a ticket.  Normally, I am as NONconfrontational as they come, but throw in a little PMS and I get a mighty attitude.  As soon as he got that window rolled up, I said, "Yeah, of course you should because we are certainly 100 feet from our intended turn. Good gracious, I stink at measurement, but even I know we're waaayyyy more than 100 feet. We're a stinking football field away from the turn."  And I really was ticked  As in fuming ticked. I was vicious that he'd expect us to know that he'd be there from the other side of a hill and know to put the signal on THREE TIMES before the law says you have to.  So ticked, in fact, that I came home and googled it to make sure I was right. I was.  Don't get me wrong, we have an awesome police force, and I have the utmost respect for people in law enforcement, people who put their lives on the line everyday for our safety, but what I canNOT stand is abuse of power.  Ever.  And this guy, in my PMSy mind, was doing just that.  

The next day I told the story to my mom.  The instant I heard it coming out my mouth, I realized just how absurd I had been. Really? What does it really matter? It doesn't. Humor the guy and put the dang signal on.  

So after lunch yesterday a friend brought up something silly she did when she was PMSing. I laughed and told her my story.  Then her husband's good friend, who is a police officer, said, "Oh, that sounds like Officer Friendly. Let me see if he was on duty, 'cause I bet he was. The guy is constantly getting in trouble for stuff like that.  You know, our force is so tight that he'll likely get kicked off soon.  One time he made an old lady cry because she didn't know where her lug lock key was when he was called to help her change a flat. He told her she didn't belong on the road if she couldn't be a responsible citizen."

With that, I began to wonder if I had really been that pathetic with my rant after all. About a nanosecond later, I realized that yes, I was just as pathetic as I originally thought.  

Wish me luck. This sporting event goes through the weekend, so I'm sure I'll encounter Officer Friendly many more times.  I sure hope I don't run over his foot or anything.  Not that it will matter though 'cause I'll have my signal on from 300 feet back. 

An Extra Gas Story

Yeah, title sounds appealing, huh?

Remember the last time Linus embarrassed us with a gas comment?  Well, Linus strikes again!  Today she announced, "Gas accidentally came out Daddy's hole."  Yeah, you should have seen the looks we got!  Turns out she was talking about the dripping a car air conditioner does onto the concrete when it's parked.  So it wasn't actually gas, nor did it come out of any hole that Army has, though it was his car. 

Extra Info

Let me start of by admitting I'm a big ole hypocrite.  I honestly thought the preschool graduation would be silly, but seeing my baby up there changed everything.  I'm still not sure it's necessary, but it is absolutely fun!

Since we were parents of a graduate, we had to get there early with her.  We walked her to one of the classrooms, and we were promptly kicked out.  They wouldn't let parents help with the cap and gown or anything.  That can be an itty bitty bit of a problem for any parent who just might be slightly on the control freak side.  I made it though.  

Army went down to get us a seat (and he got PERFECT seats) while I hung back to talk with a few of the teachers she had in MDO.  Her class is very unusual in that most have been together since MDO started. We hang out together, and we truly like each other.  

Once we were all seated, one of the teachers began passing out Kleenex.  For those of you who don't know, I HATE crying in front of other people. Hate it!  Many people took several Kleenexes.  Then the lady behind me (whose daughter's entire first and middle names are ONE letter off from my child's name--yeah, the teachers loved that!) said she didn't need any, she wasn't a crier.  Thanks lady, up the ante for me not to cry!  I took one Kleenex so I'd have it if I really needed it, but I didn't look like a blubbering idiot to her. Army immediately leaned over and said, "It's ok Lanny, you can close your eyes and just watch the video when we get home."  

They marched in--and SCORE!--Linus was seated directly in front of us!  She was smiling ear to ear.  We all stood and said the Pledge of Allegiance which was lead by the graduates.  My mom has always loved that I used to say "roll call" at the end because when I was little my teachers would say that and begin to call roll. I just assumed it came right after.  I got a great giggle when a two year old in the audience screamed, "AMEN!" at the end! :)  

Then the kids sang the sweetest song.  You could hear the sniffles from all around. Not me though. I had my iron will on and refused to let my eyes do more than sting as I held those tears back.  It wasn't just the song and that my child was graduating, it was that Linus put her heart and soul into that song. She sang with all her might.  While most of the children's lips barely moved, there was a trio standing together who led the whole thing. Linus was in the middle of that trio! :)  

Then they handed out diplomas.  Ok, not that is kind of laugh-worthy.  Really? What is the preschool course of study that it states they've completed?  I guess it is a sweet reminder of the times possibly.  As the director read the names, she'd tell what each child wants to be when they grow up.  This class was really heavy on the dentists.  Add in the requisite teacher/dancer/princess/artist/cowboy and that rounds out the rest. Except Linus. She wanted to be a fire fighter.  Most parents commented that they were surprised by their child's answer. Not us, we pegged Linus long ago.  

After the diplomas they played a song for the children to walk out to.  As the kids faced the aisle and waited their turns, Linus and one of the other trio couldn't help themselves. The music had a good beat, and they couldn't let that go ignored. Those bounced like there was no tomorrow.  I had just commented to Army how pleased I was that she behaved so well during the whole ceremony, then she singled herself out with her dancing. But you know what? I LOVED IT! Dancing IS Linus, how could I expect her to stand still? 

We took her to the restaurant of her choice afterwards, and she ordered entirely on her own (I'd like a lemonade, grilled cheese, and a side of soup, please). Sniff sniff.  My baby is growing up.