RIP Daily Prompts. :(

selective focus photography of tombstone

Photo by Brett Sayles on

I’m sad to report that The Daily Prompt, something I looked forward to every day to give me inspiration for what to blog about, is no more. I don’t know why it’s not being continued, but Friday was the last day. That puts me in a bit of a pickle if only because I used The Daily Prompt as a means for inspiration since I’m no good at coming up with something to write about every day, or at least several days a week. I’m going to have to be now.

Fret not though, Designer Sophisticate isn’t going anywhere. I’ve had this blog for almost four years now, and I’m not abandoning it. You’ll still get Musical Interlude Fridays, only now I’ll have to come up with some new features for the rest of the week, or at least a couple other days. If you have any suggestions, leave them in the comments.  🙂

This is interesting.

grey metal hammer

Photo by Pixabay on

That picture really doesn’t add anything to this post, I just thought it was funny. I searched for “confused,” and that’s what popped up. The prompt for today is “afterthought,” according to the link you see below, but on The Daily Prompt’s calendar page, it’s listed as “retrospective.” Neither words mean the same thing nor are used in the same way. A retrospective is something that causes you to look back at past moments or events. It could be in the form of music, the written word, a PowerPoint slideshow, a movie…you get the picture. An afterthought is something that occurs to you only after something else has already happened. A person can also be an afterthought, in the sense that you could be planning a party let’s say, and when you look at your guest list, you realize you’ve left off someone’s name…but you don’t realize that until after all the invites have already gone out.

So. I hope you’ve enjoyed this episode of “What The Hell Do I Write About Now?”

Not a great way to start the year.



Let me tell you, fiberglass casts (not pictured) are very itchy.


In late June of 1999, I broke my left leg. I didn’t just break it, I smashed it. Even the doctor at the hospital the ambulance took me to was impressed. I was riding my bike down the sidewalk, and the front wheel clipped the corner of a cut-out in the sidewalk and flipped me over the handlebars onto the ground. I’d fallen off my bike dozens of times before then, so I didn’t think anything of it…until I couldn’t get up. My tibia was shattered in a herringbone pattern, depressing my kneecap. I have a plate and six screws keeping everything in alignment so that I can walk. The only amusing or interesting thing to come out of this was that the orthopedic surgeon for the Chicago Blackhawks, the late Dr. Louis Kolb, did the surgery. So it was a nice story to tell when I started my senior year of high school a couple of months later, sans the cast but with the addition of a walker. Yes, that’s right. I had to use a walker. I couldn’t go up and down the stairs at school to switch out my books between classes, so I had to wear my backpack all day. It was easier to use a walker with all that weight on my back, rather than crutches…though I did have them for when I wasn’t at school.

Such fun! I hope I never repeat it ever again!

German is a great language.

administration architecture berlin building

Photo by Ingo Joseph on

Full disclosure — I’m of German extraction and have a passable grasp on the language. I wouldn’t be comfortable living there and speaking the language full-time, I’d want to study it more and become more proficient, but I can figure things out here and there.

There are so many words in the German language that we use every day without really realizing it; kindergarten, Gesundheit, Fahrenheit, über, and my personal favorite, schadenfreude. That last one is the joy you feel at someone else’s misfortune. For example, as a Yankees fan, I always read SoSH after the Red Sox lose to the Yankees because the bridge jumping is hysterical. I feel an immense amount of schadenfreude when that happens. That being said, there are other great German words I wish we here in the English-speaking world would adopt.

For example, luftschloss, which means a dream that is unattainable — literally, a castle in the air. Which, by the way, is a great song by Don McLean. Another word is sehnsuct, a deep desire for something far-off or unattainable. You could have sehnsuct for a luftschloss…which would lead you to kummerspeck, or putting on weight because of emotional over-eating. Gotta watch out for that grief bacon.

Now…the one German word I wish we used in English, only because it’s a sentiment everyone feels every single day, is backpfeifengesicht, or a face that deserves to be punched. We all know at least one person who deserves to have some teeth knocked out, right?

Old-fashioned and out of step.

I don’t know if I’d necessarily call Swing/Big Band music “archaic,” but it certainly hasn’t been around since WWII, so there’s a degree of “no longer in use” about it. I’ve always been a fan of that era, particularly musically, and my all-time favorite artist in that genre is Benny Goodman. From my hometown of Chicago, he truly became the King of Swing. Everyone knows Sing, Sing, Sing (with a Swing) so I won’t be choosing that one. I thought I’d go with something most people probably haven’t heard of, or if they have, don’t remember. For today’s Musical Interlude Friday selection, I give you String of Pearls by Benny Goodman. Enjoy!

(By the way, I’m aware Glenn Miller’s recording is far more well-known, I like Benny Goodman’s version as well.)

A mile away.

animal dog puppy pug

Photo by Torsten Dettlaff on

As a child, I wasn’t particularly adept at hiding my emotions or feelings when I’d done something wrong. I could never get away with anything. If I knocked a lamp over or ruined one of my mom’s dresses or smacked my sister because she was being a pain in the ass (which is frankly all the time, now that I think about it), it didn’t matter how well I schooled my face to appear as though I hadn’t done anything wrong, Stevie Wonder could tell I was guilty as hell. It’s something I have to admit to not getting better at as I got older. That’s not to say I routinely do things I shouldn’t do, the only time I’ve been stopped by a police officer is when he offered to buy my Starbucks for me on Christmas Eve one year, as he was doing it for everyone else in line. I’m just not very good at hiding my emotions, no matter what they are. Guilt is especially something I cannot hide. My cheeks flame red, I start fidgeting, and I can’t make eye contact with anyone.

I’d make a shitty poker player.

In a puff of smoke.

woman in white cap sleeved shirt blowing dust

Photo by Jakob on

A friend once told me that you can always be counted on to find out how faithful or loyal your friends really are when the shit hits the fan and things go wrong. The last thing anyone should want to worry about when they’re going through hard times is whether or not their friends are going to be there for them, but I think we’ve all been in situations where someone or some people, for whatever reason, decide to scarper when we need them most. I’ve never done that to anyone, but I have friends who can’t say they’ve been that fortunate. Everyone reacts to stress or bad times differently, and not everyone can handle the hard stuff, but you can at least try. You never know how much the other person will appreciate even a little bit of effort over none at all.

*needle scratch*

vinyl record playing

See kids, back in the day, we listened to music on big discs that spun around 33 1/3 times per minute! Sometimes they were small discs that spun around 45 times per minute. It was a much simpler time.

I am not the world’s most suave person. In fact, I’d go so far as to say I’m the least coordinated and confident person you’ll ever meet. I don’t dance, not because I necessarily can’t; I’m sure if I learned how I’d be competent at it. No, I don’t dance because I know myself, and no matter how well I knew the steps, I’d still trip over my own feet and embarrass everyone who ever shared my bloodline. I’m a klutz who once managed to trip over air and land on her face. Yes. Air. I tripped over air. There was nothing on the ground to impede my step but air, and I tripped over it.

If that’s not the definition of awkward, I don’t know what is.

Do we know any orange egotists?


orange fruit

I could have been more direct with my choice of image, but I figured you’d know exactly who this is referring to.


Gee, a prompt on narcissism, and I post an image of some oranges. Hmm. I wonder who I could be directing that to? Aside from our whining tittybaby-in-chief, there are a lot of people in this country who truly believe they are the greatest thing since sliced bread and the rest of us are just fortunate to be walking the same planet they are. Remember the Greek story of Narcissus? How he fell in love with his own reflection and continued staring at it until he died because he couldn’t bear to walk away from the pond? Yeah. You’re not that special. I’m sure someone thinks you are, as we’re all special to someone, but to the world at large? Not hardly. The one thing I hate about narcissists more than anything is that you cannot reason with them. They are physically incapable of understanding how utterly obnoxious they are to everyone else.

Here’s hoping we find a cure. I believe it can be found in your local polling place.

A cornucopia of options.

If something is premature, it’s early or unexpected. I have a lot of songs in my library that have “Early” in the title or refer to something coming before it’s due, so I kind of had to sit and think for a minute which direction I wanted to go in. My dad got me into Folk music when I was younger, and it’s been a genre I’ve loved ever since, so let’s pull from there. For today’s Musical Interlude Friday selection, I give you “Early Morning Rain” by Gordon Lightfoot. Enjoy!