Realization

Another actual conversation between me and my mom.

I’ve never actually met someone named Cindy in my life. My mom has, apparently, met many.

Language Of Confusion: Eating

There are times when I’m running out of ideas, so I just pick something and do anything I can think of that’s related to it. And that’s why we’re looking at eating related stuff today.
 
Eat itself comes from the Old English etan, to eat. That’s from the Proto Germanic etan, which is from the Proto Indo European root ed-, to eat or to bite. Unlike some of these root words, ed- isn’t in a whole lot of words we still use. It is however part of edible, which comes to us by way of Late Latin instead of going the Germanic route.
 
Food comes from the Middle English foode/fode, from the Old English foda, which just means food [https://en.glosbe.com/ang/en/foda]. It’s from the Proto Germanic fodon, which is from the Proto Indo European pa-, to protect or feed. That word’s actually part of a lot of different words, not all related to food (seriously, things like fur and company are in there), and it shouldn’t surprise anyone that that’s where feed comes from. Feed has a slightly different origin than food, but only in the sense that it’s clearly a different tense of the word. It’s fedan in Old English, from the Proto Germanic fodjan, and that word is also from pa-. And don’t ask about the P to F thing. It’s just a weird thing that happened to a lot of words in Germanic languages.
 
Devour showed up in the early fourteenth century—hey, an actual time frame! It’s from the Old French devorer, from the classical Latin devorare, to swallow. The de- means down, and vorare is to swallow—devour is to swallow down. Vorare can also be traced to the Proto Indo European gwora-, food or devouring, and that word’s the origin of pretty much any word with “vore” in it. Also, never, ever look up vore on the internet. Listen to me: do not do it.
 
Next, we’re going to look at chew. It showed up in Old English as ceowan, to chew or chomp. It’s from the West Germanic keuwwan, and that’s thought to be from the Proto Indo European gyeu-, to chew. I mean, that would make sense. Which is probably why you shouldn’t trust it.
 
Finally today, let’s go look at munch, which is definitely a funny word to say. It showed up in the early fifteenth century as a variation of the word mocchen and… that’s about all we know for sure. It might be from the Old French mangier, and it might be from the classical Latin manducare, to eat. We don’t actually know. It’s just another one of those words that people liked saying and it could be from anywhere, or just made up back in the Middle Ages.
 
 
Sources
Online Etymology Dictionary
Google Translate
Omniglot
University of Texas at Austin Linguistic Research Center
University of Texas at San Antonio’s page on Proto Indo European language
University of Texas at Arlington
Tony Jebson’s page on the Origins of Old English
Old English-English Dictionary
Encyclopaedia Britannica
Orbis Latinus

From The Spamfiles

Here we go again!

Damn it, the Italians are after me again.

I missed something important!!! Not important enough for them to mention what it is, though.

I mean… those words technically form a sentence, but I really have no idea what it’s trying to say. I had a better grasp on the Italian one up there.

Is it weird that I read “May the peace of God be with you” and immediately go “Ah, a cancer widow trying to scam me”?

The ACH Network! They move funds from one bank account to another. That’s totally a real thing people need a service for.

Okay, I don’t know if you can see this, but the R in Re (or really, :Re) has the middle line slightly extended over the left side and I want to know how the hell they managed to do that because I’ve never seen it before in my life.

Chewing

It’s so simple, a child can do it.

I can hurt myself when I’m not even doing anything.

Language Of Confusion: To Leave

I can’t believe I haven’t done the word leave before. I’ve done left, as part of left and right, but not leave. I’m just surprised it never occurred to me to etymologize leave.
 
Leave comes from the Old English laefan, which is also just to leave. That’s from the Proto Germanic laibjanan, from liban, remain, which can be traced all the way back to the Proto Indo European leip-, which means… to stick or adhere. Yeah. I mean, it going from stick to remain in Germanic I can see, but I have no idea how it got from there to what we use it for. Of course, that’s not as weird as the other version of leave—as in taking your leave of something—not being related at all. That one comes from the Old English leafe, leave, permission, or license. It’s from the Proto Germanic laubo, from the Proto Indo European leubh-, to care, desire, or love. That makes even less sense!
 
Now let’s look at leaf, like what comes off of trees. It comes from the Old English leaf, which means the leaf of a plant or the page of a book. It’s from the Proto Germanic lauba-, which as far as I can tell, is not related to laubo. It’s thought that comes from the Proto Indo European leab(h)-, which again, doesn’t seem to be related to the similarly spelled word above. Its definition is actually to peel or break off, which does kind of seem like something leaves would do. This also means that the leaves that fall of trees have nothing to do with either of the other usage of leaves.
 
And there’s more. Leaven is the word for what you add to dough to get fermentation. It showed up in the mid fourteenth century (an actual date!) from the Old French levain, from the classical Latin levamen, which actually meant alleviation. It’s just that for some reason, Vulgar Latin took that word as meaning something that lifts or raises in a more literal sense, and that’s why it was associated with bread. It’s from the verb levare, to lift, from the Proto Indo European word legwh-, light (as in, not heavy).
 
TL;DR: Nothing with leave in it is related to anything else with leave in it.
 
Sources
Online Etymology Dictionary
Google Translate
Omniglot
University of Texas at Austin Linguistic Research Center
University of Texas at San Antonio’s page on Proto Indo European language
Tony Jebson’s page on the Origins of Old English
Old English-English Dictionary
Encyclopaedia Britannica

From The Spamfiles

Don’t you just love spam?

Okay, I’m really confused by this one. They’re calling themselves “support ebay” (?), and I have to confirm a “gift giving away” (??) and they’re using the TM symbol after ebay, which I’m like ninety percent sure is not how you’re supposed to use it. I know it’s spam and they’re never correct. I just have no idea what the hell they’re trying to say at all.

I really think he should be focusing on his divorce right now. Of course, this is probably part of his plan to hide his assets.

Uh. Sure. Bright unusual clothes. Good for you?

Now, you might not be able to see it, but I assure you, he is opening this with “Greatings” and I love everything about it.

Your husband, the tycoon and philanthropist, was a big Ariana Grande fan, was he?

Apparently this Italian company wants me to write for them, but that might be a bit difficult for me seeing as I don’t speak Italian.

VROOM

Spring is really here! It would be nice to be able to enjoy it.

I really hate noisy motorcycles and cars, and the people who purposely make them as loud as possible.

Language Of Confusion: -Fect

Now, I actually did perfect along time ago, but for some reason never did any other words that ended in -fect. Chalk it up to me still figuring out how I wanted to do these. Anyway, we’re doing them now, as well as redoing perfect, of course.
 
Perfect showed up in the early fifteenth century, coming from the Middle English parfit, which means flawless or complete. It’s from the Old French parfit (yes, that’s where parfait comes from) and classical Latin perfectus, perfect, from the verb perficere, to complete. The prefix is from our old friend per, meaning completely, and the rest is from facere, to make or to do, from the Proto Indo European dhe-, to set or put. To perfect is to completely complete.
 
Now let’s finally get to the other -fect words. Infect showed up in the late fourteenth century, from the classical Latin infectus, which means infection… or incomplete. It’s from the verb inficere, to infect, or to stain—both literally and figuratively. The in- is from en and means in, and the rest is facere, to do. To infect is to do in, as in the sense that you were putting something in something to stain it. And from there we got infect.
 
Defect showed up in the early fifteenth century, not meaning to desert/revolt until the late sixteenth century. It comes from the Old French defect and classical Latin defectus, a defect or a desertion, from the verb deficere, to fail. De- means down or away, and with the rest meaning to do… defect is to do away. All right, this one’s a bit weirder than the others.
 
Affect showed up in the late fourteenth century, but it originally only meant a mental state, not meaning to make an impression on until the seventeenth century—though it did also mean to attack or to act on in the sixteenth century. The word is from the classical Latin affectus, affected, from afficere, which has a variety of meanings, including to do, to use, to act on, or to influence. The prefix is from ad-, to, so this word is really “to do to”.
 
Effect showed up in the mid fourteenth century, making it the earliest of these words, coming from the Old French efet and classical Latin effectus, which is just effect. Its verb form is efficiere, to effect or accomplish, a mix of ex-, out, and facere, making this word to make/do out. I guess that makes sense if you don’t think about it too much.

 
The finally word we’re looking at today may be the best one: confection. It showed up in the mid fourteenth century, coming from the Old French confeccion. That’s from the Medieval Latin confectionem, which means “making” in classical Latin, from the verb conficere, to complete. The con- means with, and facere means to do/make, so confection is to do/make with. So how did it get to mean sweets? Well, when it first showed up in English it meant anything made by mixing ingredients. But then it took on the definition of something made with sugar or syrup, and by the sixteenth century, it fully became meaning sweets.
 
And now I’m all hungry.
 
Sources
Online Etymology Dictionary
Google Translate
Omniglot
University of Texas at Austin Linguistic Research Center
University of Texas at San Antonio’s page on Proto Indo European language
University of Texas at Arlington
Dictionary of Medieval Latin

From The Spamfiles

I think I enjoy spam because it’s so pointless. Nothing bad will happen as long as, you know, you don’t click on the links they send you.

Look at this perfectly normal twitter follower! I especially like the “WORKER” in the profile.

A spam blog comment, but at least he’s polite about it.

I’m not viewing someone’s private photos! If they wanted them seen, they’d be public!
 

I have no idea what’s with the giant underscore. Maybe that’s my home equity. I don’t know. I don’t actually own a home so maybe that’s how it works.

This should be good. Guys, what should I put for my advertising rates? I say two hundred bucks and a computer that still has the old versions of Minesweeper and Solitaire.

…No.

The Cycle

This happens at least once a day.

And the cycle begins again.

Language Of Confusion: Prefixes, Part III

Back on the prefixes. And there are still a lot more that I won’t be looking at.
 
Pre-
What better way to finish off my look at prefixes than by looking at the one that’s actually part of prefix? It comes from the Old French pre- and Medieval Latin pre-, which are from the classical Latin prae, before (another one). It’s from the Proto Indo European peri-, which is from the root per-, which I’m sure looks familiar to you.
 
Per-
Per generally means through, and is related to per the word, as both come from the classical Latin per, which means by, through, or just plain per. That word comes from the Proto Indo European per- that I mentioned earlier. The PIE per- means forward, in front of, first, stuff like that, and is part of just so many words even when it’s not being a prefix. It’s also the origin for all the words we’re looking at this week, because it’s that prevalent. Seriously, click on that link to the Etymology Online page on per- to see the massive list on the words per- is related to.
 
Pro-
This one shouldn’t be too surprising. Pro- means forward or toward the front, before, in place of, or taking care of. It comes from the classical Latin pro, which has pretty much all those meanings to it. And of course it’s from per-. A flexible word leads to a flexible prefix.
 
Pur-
Pur- isn’t used all that much, only showing up in a few words, like purchase, purpose, and purport. Its origins are Middle English and Anglo French, where it was what’s known as “perfective”, a kind of language form we don’t have in English anymore used to indicate a completed action. Pur- comes from the Vulgar Latin por-, which is from the classical Latin pro. So everything comes full circle.
 
So that’s it for prefixes. I mean, there are still a ton more, but I think we’ve covered all the big ones. Now to decide what I should do next…
 
Sources
Online Etymology Dictionary
Google Translate
Omniglot
Dictionary.com
University of Texas at Austin Linguistic Research Center
University of Texas at San Antonio’s page on Proto Indo European language
University of Texas at Arlington
Encyclopaedia Britannica
Fordham University

May Goals

Time for this again. What was I even supposed to be doing last month?
 
April Goals
1. Work on one of my project ideas. I have so many, it shouldn’t be this hard.
I may have accidentally written 40K in a new WIP. Whoops.
 
2. Update my etymology page. It’s been months!
I did that! Still can’t get rid of those damn extra spaces, though.
 
3. Actually work on those notes! I think we can all guess how this is going to go.
Ha ha, no.
 
That was April. Now for our beloved Three-Milk:
 
1. Add another 40K to the WIP.
 
2. Go back to work on one of my old projects, which still needs to be beta read. If you’re interested, let me know.
 
3. Work on the notes. I know I’m not going to do it, but I can at least not forget about it.
 
So that’s my plan for May. What are you up to this month?

Zoom

Not as exhausting as some of my mom’s other projects, but still. What a pain.

She could not figure out why no one could see her in the Zoom meeting. It took me two seconds to discover she had the camera off.