At least if you live in a Seabury dorm. Anyone who's seen my common room rug will attest to this, and probably it's true of most of the other rugs around. So I was super duper excited tonight to open my email and discover that my new roommate has taken the rug back with her to have it cleaned. Not sure how well it will work - it's entirely possible the rug may disintegrate or spit dirt back in the cleaner's face or something of that nature. But I'm excited that someone's trying, with better cleaning supplies than the ones residing in our suite's bathroom corner.
Not quite as exciting (especially to people who aren't overly joyful about good grammar): AKMA's blog features a post today about writing, and particularly about the active voice, that triggers my memory. My little brother came home last week from his senior year at Allegheny, where he's majoring in theater and minoring in psychology. Within the first twenty-four hours, he announced to me that he had learned something new this term - what "passive voice" means. After eighteen years of living with an English teacher father and a bossy grammar guardian older sister and three years of seeing "passive" scrawled on his papers, he decided to look it up, and discovered the joy of active verbs. Amazed as I was by his timing, I have to admit that the bossy-older-sister/editor parts of me were pretty thrilled about his excitement over how much stronger and bolder active verbs are.
And yes, I know I'm a dork. If you're reading this, you probably knew it already also.
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