Tag Archives: Connecticut


Yesterday I was miffed at snarky comments on Twitter and Facebook made by NYC locals who were underwhelmed by Hurricane Irene.

I wasn’t the only one.

Neighbors in New Jersey, Connecticut and Vermont who are underwater and without power were quick to snark back at their lack of empathy.

The snark resurfaced last night in live tweets about the VMAs, one of the few awards shows I don’t watch (but probably should based on the comments).

Which got me thinking… where does the word ‘snark’ come from?  How long has it been around?  And is there someone I can personally thank since it is so much fun to say?

‘Snark’ is simply the blending of ‘snide’ and ‘remark.’ I couldn’t find a date or person credited for the first mash-up of the word, but it’s a good one.

I did find lots of ‘snark’ derivations, which are brilliant in and of themselves.  I know you’ll want to add a few of them to your vocab:

  • snarkagogy — the art or science of being snarky (now, there’s a college major for ya)
  • snarkalec — someone who consistently makes snarky remarks
  • snarkasm — snarky, with an undertone of sarcasm (for advanced snarkalecs only)
  • snarkhat — if you are not usually snarky, put it on to make a snarky comment; then take off

There are a lot more at UrbanDictionary.com.  (Figured it would be snarky to not reveal my source.)



Can you imagine being in prison?

I don’t like to think about it. Wrenched away from my dog, my home, my family and friends, my job — all sense of self gone.

But reading Orange is the New Black, by Piper Kerman, that’s exactly what I find myself doing.

In 1993, bored and lacking direction after graduating from Smith College, Kerman befriends a woman who is part of an overseas drug smuggling operation and travels for a year with her and her associates.

Five years later, federal agents appear at her door in New York City. Some 10 years after her ‘crimes by association,’ Kerman finds herself an inmate at Danbury Correctional Institute in Connecticut.

Orange is the New Black is the story of Kerman’s thirteen months in prison.  I started it yesterday; I’ve found it difficult to put down.

Her life there surprised me on many levels.  It was safer than I expected — she wasn’t attacked by every lesbian in the joint — and far more boring.  She seemed to have a lot of free time and spent it running track and taking yoga classes.

Although she was cautioned to ‘keep to herself to survive,’ she made numerous connections and friendships in prison that made her life at Danbury easier to endure.  Those women are the heart of the book.

Kerman emphasizes that the isolation from her fiancee and family was the real prison.  Danbury had four visitation days a week, and she was lucky to have a steady stream of visitors to see her through her incarceration.

Funny thing:  the wrong friends got her into prison, and the right friends — on both sides of the bars — got her through.