Douchebag - easy sewing project

By guest explorer: Mae Wright

The last post Douches - and other bags touched on the practice of adding 'bag' to words to make an insult about people - a 'human bag' full of whatever unpleasant stuff - douche, wind, scum, rats etc. (It also links to using old bag or baggage as insult for an older woman.)

If adding 'bag' makes an unpleasant substance into an insult, it follows that a bigger bag is a bigger insult. Right?

Which brings me to the douche satchel!

From Urban dictionary, the douche satchel is:

♦️ a 'satchel' is a really big bag... of 'douche'. So someone who is a really big douche bag, would be a 'douche satchel'
♦️ an expletive, used in instances of anger/frustration.

Artist's impression

That makes sense: some douchebags are very annoying, and some are very, very annoying. The more overtly entitled and in-your-face, the more irritating and aggravating, so the larger the 'bag'. 

I wonder, is this the beginning of douche insults escalating in baggage sizes? The douche backpack, the douche suitcase, the douche ski-bag? (Come to think of it, I'm sure I've dated a few douche ski-bags.)

Well-being - losing the unhealthy metaphors

By guest explorer: Mae Wright

A while back, I took six months out of paid work to focus on my well-being. Or, as I saw it then, to stop feeling rotten all the time.

Life had been overwhelming, family needs had been complex, work had been deflating, my house was cluttered and unclean, projects sat neglected. I had been unrelentingly busy and was exhausted. And my health, left on the back burner, gradually but inexorably boiled over. A not uncommon story.

I hoped my well-being might return with a complete rest. For some weeks, I did nothing but sitting around; I sat and I read. Just read. Luxurious. Then, for something completely different, I went on a snorkelling holiday. Amazing.

When I returned, I started on the mess of overdue tasks and chores and neglected projects nagging at me from every surface in my house. I wrote a long list and slowly started to tick things off. My house became more pleasant as the layers of clutter and dirt disappeared. Satisfying.

I wasn't pushing myself; I slept in, often staying in my PJs till midday. I covered the basics: diet, sleep and exercise. I got back into Pilates. I reconnected with friends. I relished wearing my comfortable draw-string white linen pants and loose t-shirts around the house, the image of well-being.

But nearly three months into my break, I felt edgy, maybe less exhausted, but definitely nothing I like my idea of 'well-being'. And I felt like a failure: I had the luxury of not having to work for a period without worrying about money, something that many could not, but I still just felt rotten.

It seemed I was just no good at 'balance'. Being 'in the now' had never happened. When I thought about my lack of zest, I felt anxious. And not once had I wanted to spring into the air on a beach with the sun as back-lighting. 

My being was far from well. I needed something else.

Feisty - a lifetime of training

By guest explorer: Mae Wright

Most dictionaries define feisty as 'having or showing a lively aggressiveness'; 'tough, independent, and spirited'; 'lively, resilient and self-reliant.' Sounds like a good thing to be.

Unable to find a source

The Collins dictionary adds the essential element that helps us understand exactly words feisty can be combined with: 'often when you would not expect them to be, for example because they are very young, old or ill'. We see a feisty 85 year old who is active and assertive in their local community, and not what you would expect them to be: the elderly archetype of retiring, quiet, decrepit, submissive, helpless, ill. 

It seems like a positive concept.

Not what she is expected to be.

However, the word feisty combined with woman usually has a negative meaning.