On "feel bad" vs. "feel badly"

Thanks to a well-publicized grammatical mistake by the head of the U.S. Department of Education, I've been fielding quite a few inquiries about "feel bad" versus "feel badly."

I understand the penchant for "feel badly." It sounds formal, making sure you use the -ly adverb. It's wrong, though.

It comes down to if feel is a linking verb or an action verb in your use of it.

I feel badly.

This use is an action verb, requiring an adverb, literally meaning there is something wrong with your sense of touch. You are having trouble putting your fingers on someone. A little awkward, I know.

I feel bad.

This is what you probably mean. Feel here is a linking verb, requiring an adjective. This is about your state of mind, your emotions. Something upsets you. Maybe you feel sorry for the schoolchildren in Texas. (Yes, this is what Arne Duncan meant.)

"Grammar, schmammar," Duncan said, but you all know better.

As an aside to journos out there, should this misstep by Duncan have been such a focal point of articles? Did reporters have to use that quote? What about letting the public notice it in the oft-accompanying video instead? Isn't the substance of his remarks more important than one grammatical gaffe?

On shared space

We don't live separately anymore. It's not even "two of us in my place" anymore. Goodbye, bachelorette pad. Hello, truly shared space.

I think it's really coming along. In fact, I think it's really looking good. My assessment of looking good, though, involves being thrilled with the IKEA, REI, and Urban Outfitters got drunk together and forgot to clean up vibe.

It's amazing what a simple rearrangement (the kitchen table is actually in the kitchen!) and a summers-off-teacher-boyfriend (stuff's built by the time I'm home from the lab!) can do for a place. And, yes, those exclamation points were totally necessary.

The rumors are true: We do now have a futon, a TV, and a food processor, in addition to some other exciting acquisitions that include a table for the fish tank, a desk and chair, a bureau, a wheeled kitchen island, and bunches of extension cords someone so skillfully hid around the apartment. It all seems so basic, right? How did we not have these things before?

It was pretty easy to clear my laptop off the dining table when it was time to eat. I don't really watch TV, so MLB.tv on my computer on the coffee table was perfect. One couch was all I needed. The problem, really, was pesto. I got tired of using a hammer to make it. (You all really, really hope I'm kidding about that. I'm not.)

Yes, and because of the dedicated pesto hammer, Aaron and the rest of his stuff moved in, and now I have a TV. That may not quite be the precise cause-and-effect, but it makes for a good story, anyway.

A couple months after taking the plunge and living in sin, we've actually made our little Cap Hill apartment downright homey.