Word Up

Snack

2010-05-20T14:15:00.004-04:00

...or "When you are not quite ready for the commitment of dinner"

If somehow the definition of snack has thus eluded you, stop reading now, because you obviously have alluded that you need more elucidation on the English language than a mere blogger with a statistics degree can offer. For all others, I am sure that you can appreciate that for the working waitress on the go, snacks are essential. It matters not that everything consumed will be considered a snack, nor that grazing off of tater tots for days at a time will render a continual snacking ritual. Either way, snacks are crucial. But the word itself is quite pleasant to the ear. Quick and to the point, it is the bane of slow talkers, forcing even the most frustratingly leisurely speakers to say it in under five seconds. Also, when you consider everything a snack, there is far less potential for let-down. How many times have you been building something up as the pivotal meal of the day, only to not be hungry or for it to simply suck? No such commitment with snacks. You don't even have to eat your vegetables if you don't want. (Though might I say, veggies are excellent snacks). And if you have more than one snack a day, no one will judge you. A leader of the lexicon's pack, "snack" never fails at getting your point across, quickly and without expectation, and never without the glorious distinction of being available when most needed.

Filament

2010-03-24T17:55:00.007-04:00

...or "Happenin' threads dude"

From the Latin "filum" (thread), comes this delightful word for an object holding threadlike qualities. I always think this word has a joyous euphonic sound when pronounced, be it from the liquid l or from the lack of long vowels. Really, it is quite musical to the ear. But it also plucks at the heartstrings of nostalgia. I cannot hear this word without taking a journey down the timeline to the nineties, to a time where an Italian sportswear company bearing the humble moniker of "Fila" ruled recess. Of course, I would not be caught dead in Fila, given my blanket refusal to wear pants for the majority of my youth. For others, however, Fila apparel was all the rage. Not surprisingly, the company's name means "threads" in Italian. How self-referential. These days, I rarely see that iconic, bi-color F. I guess people had their fill of Fila, and the company's good name is now hanging by a thread. But "filament" is not now, nor will ever be, second-string in my lexicon.

Poise

2010-03-05T14:31:00.003-05:00

...or "Specially Designed to Protect Against Bladder Leaks"

Perchance because I am so sorely lacking in my personal bearing, or perchance because I just am not fond of that pesky "oi" diphthong, "poise" gets a definitive check in the dislike box. Either way, poise comes out as both the bane of my existence and a nasty sounding word. Such a coveted trait with such a rotten cadence. What's more, the ancestor of the modern poise meant heaviness. Since the main connotations of this word (aside from incontinence protection, of course) are self-assurance and natural elegance, the burdensome derivation comes as rather counter-intuitive. Dratted connotations. For all this, I suppose I am poised to point out "poise" as a ponderance in the lexicon.

Nonchalant

2010-02-23T22:00:00.000-05:00

...or "Make mine chilled, with a twist"

Nonchalant. Exuding the appearance of not caring. "Being cool." Though this word derives as to mean "not being concerned with," the colloquial meaning is more along the lines of "not appearing to care." Those are two massive edges on one major awkward sword. For people with stellar social interaction skills, such as myself, the act of being nonchalant is a crucial skill to master. My particular brand of callous nonchalance usually involves a delicately caustic comment followed by the always popular exchange of parting pleasantries before I walk away, snickering to myself. Perhaps my coolness is a bit over-chilled, because I am still an uncomfortable freshman in the world of nonchalance. But then again, all the fun in nonchalance rests in never letting anyone know you care.

Drivel

2010-02-16T15:20:00.006-05:00

...or "Don't Drink and Drivel"

The thing I like about this particularly snide word is that it serves a dual purpose--it means both to drool and also to spew careless nonsense. So maybe just one purpose. But as an admitted drooler, I would much appreciate it if all the referees in the house looked the other way while I double-drivel. Personally, I think this is one of the most cold and dismissive words in the lexicon. When someone futilely attempts an argument, or slaps you with something particularly insulting, make sure a bitch knows he should stop sniveling drivel.

I used to get "drivel" and "dribble" confused, which may explain why I was never very good at basketball (it had nothing to do with the awkward and nonathletic thing, of course). For some reason, I found "dribbling" a rather unsettling term. Now I know better, and am still unsettled. Drivel, however, will always be a three-pointer on my jumbo-tron.

Update

2009-12-11T00:33:00.002-05:00

...or "I don't have any strong feelings on this word at all, really"

Yes, I am a slacker. Yes, posting multiple times a week, or even multiple times a month, is apparently too much for me. But I have been working on other writing projects. Mostly essays. Mostly during statistics class. So, keep an eye out for a potential parasitic growth blog springing out of this guy. Maybe it will happen. But don't get your hopes up.

Fondly,

Maddy

Reciprocal

2009-12-11T00:04:00.007-05:00

...or "I still hate math"

Yes, you have heard it. Straight from the math major's mouth. Math sucks. This is a fact that to most is as natural as the rooting reflex; the two instincts even emerge around the same time. It is little better on the other side, where the mathies lurk. Or maybe math just isn't my thing. But the word 'reciprocal' surely is. (And with the use of the single quotes, we can see my unwilling assimilation into the realm of coding. Gag.) Basically, a reciprocal is something that is inversely related. Pretty simple stuff, unless you start delving deep into group theory. It can also be a tit for a tat, eye for an eye sort of thing. Or it could even be something that shared on both sides. Like love. Or hate, for that matter. But let us focus on the reason for the season. Aside from that delightful phonetic K, I rather enjoy the requisite reciprocal warm fuzzies that we get this time of year. People seem to take time out and show some reciprocity to all the folks that have made a difference in their lives. So, on the eve of Chanukah, and soon to be Christmas, try and take that initiative to inversely relate and do something for a buddy. Of course, I will be buying said buddies beer, which will be greatly appreciated. Even for the non-religious among us, it is a great time to quit being such a snark and say "Thanks, kids," to all the people for whom, somewhere in your cold heart, you actually reciprocally care.

Hoof

2009-10-28T20:36:00.003-04:00

This is a word near and dear to my cold, bitter heart; for the past two months, I have been "hoofing it" everywhere I need, want, and am strangely compelled to go. In fact, I believe my feet are actually becoming hard, cloven formations at the end of fur covered, bent legs. Just don't tell PT Barnum about this modern marvel--"Sideshow Act" is not a job description I find appealing. As I was hoofing it through what is quickly becoming a winter that would rival the frostiness of my heart, I started thinking about this word. I immediately starting laughing hysterically. (The people around me started backing off frantically.) I find this word hilarious. Come on, say it. You know you want to. I find that much of the hilarity of this word comes from the breakdown of all phonetic order. Quite the shocker for all the illiterates out there reading this blog. I also like the brusque sound of the word. Perfect for the cold and bitter. But I would have to say the funniest thing is the fact that hooves are actually horns for the feet. And I would bet they are a bitch to keep clean. Either way, as I walk home on the horns capping off my unnaturally arched feet, I will probably crack myself up whilst repeating this word rapidly to the cold night air.

Serif

2009-09-17T11:22:00.003-04:00

...or "Put your pants back on, Father Dan, I'm talking about fonts"

That's right kids, I haven't suddenly turned religious. I am not writing about Senor Aquinas' fiery angels of charity. Nor am I talking about a has-been Christian rock group. But maybe if you are feeling particularly philanthropic, mosey on over to http://www.myspace.com/seraph6 and check out their hot tracks. Maybe even buy a CD or t-shirt. Free set of six wings with $100 purchase.

I would prefer not to continue to advertise some dorky Christian band, so I shall proceed to my point. Have you ever been browsing the font list on MS Word, looking for one that will make that six and a half page paper look slightly more like the eight pages it is supposed to be, and happened upon a "Sans Serif" font? I, for one, used to think it was some sort of fancy classical Latin font used for only the snootiest of scholarly entries. I have rather mixed emotions about the day I found out the true meaning. I never imagined that a "serif" was the garnish of typeface; the celery stalk in the printer's Bloody Mary. However, it was one more label for a seemingly insignificant object that I could now add to my lexicon, finally giving the long suffering aglet some company. So light up some flaming shooters tonight, and cheers to the serif for me.

Shan't

2009-08-14T02:41:00.003-04:00

...or "Next stop: Shantytown."

This is the first contraction on which I have written, but it is one close to my heart. By "shan't," I am not talking about the singular form of my roommate's extra long shorts (get it? shorts that are almost pants!), but instead of the mash-up of "shall" and "not." It always throws people for a loop when you respond to an inappropriate suggestion with an oh-so-righteous "I shan't. What kind of a girl do you think I am?" The would-be archaic word lends itself so nicely to creating an element of surprise rarely garnered in everyday bar conversation. Usually all you hear is "Ooo yeah, whereya live? You got cranberry vodka?" Sorry, sugar, if you want to take me to your own personal shanty, be prepared to hear that I shan't be making it tonight. Talk about a shall not. I'll pass on those roofies, thank you very much.

Yogurt

2009-07-20T15:14:00.004-04:00

...or "Yoplait-Haters Dannonymous"

Merriam-Webster defines yogurt as " a fermented slightly acid often flavored semisolid food made of milk and milk solids to which cultures of two bacteria (Lactobacillus bulgaricus and Streptococcus thermophilus) have been added." Streptococcus, streptococcus... is that like the bacteria behind strep throat? Why yes, it is indeed a member of the same genus. But don't fret kids--this particular strand is non-pathogenic. I bet that makes you feel lots better! Oh wait, the "fermented" and "semisolid" is still off-putting? Oh well, can't win them all. I am in fact rather uneasy admitting that I have gone through a couple of phases where I would eat yogurt. After reading the M-W definition of what must be one of the loveliest entries in our lexicon, I think any chance of a future yogurt phase has been rather effectively quashed. In retrospect, the word "yogurt" sounds vaguely like the noise of coughing something up. The awkward emphasis on the first syllable is rather unsettling. Unless, of course, you are British and don't (yo)play that way. But you Britons are not off the hook. You guys spell it more like you pronounce it: yoghurt. I do not like this, but this may be personal bias; I am historically bad with spelling certain words containing the letter "h." (Would anyone care for some alchohol?) But a yogurt by any other name would still be as weird, so any way you spell it, yogurt remains a odd name for an odd food.

Procrastination

2009-07-20T13:55:00.005-04:00

...or "Procrastination is very bad. Procrastination makes people mad."

I am giving you guys an update in form of a post. Procrastination is not really a word I like or dislike, but a word that is just there. Like my horrible habit of same. So I am back in school, part-time for now, and will be taking study breaks to write. So I have my first exam tonight, and lo and behold, my first (and soon to be second) new post in a while is up. Keep posted for more postings, because I have homework a couple times a week, and we all know how I start getting distracted whilst doing schoolwork. Math and I got back together, and although I am enjoying the proof writing, this professor doesn't require quite as long-winded of proofs as I have had to write in the past. Bummer. We all know how I like to see myself write (like hear myself talk, but I guess writing is more of a visual than auditory thing). So in the spirit of procrastination and self-involvement, there have been a lot of changes in my life, including a new apartment, maybe a second job, and maybe even finding a new playdate for Javier (my kitty cat). But most importantly, I am back into my love-hate relationship with school, and I may be taking some fun English classes to give me even more fodder for my farm.

LYLAS,

Maddy

P.S. If you guys liked the snippet from the poem above, I can send you the whole thing. I wrote it in elementary school and it was a hit!

Urinate

2009-07-19T12:50:00.000-04:00

...or "Can I get a shout-out to all the recovering UTI-ees?"

Don't you hate it when people excuse themselves in a polite setting, saying that they have to "urinate"? First of all, I do not really need to know that. Second of all, I do not like that word. Maybe it is because my nutso ex-boyfriend would always say it. Couldn't he just say he had to pee? Or perhaps...

Potential pee-er : Hey guys! I have to micturate! BRB.
Friends: WTF is "micturate"?
Friend in the know: Micturating is synonymous with urinating. The word "micturate" may be used by pseudo-intellectuals, by people trying to be more discreet, or simply by people that hate the word "urinate."
Friends: Oh wow. You learn something new every day.

Yeah, that's a little extreme. But seriously, kids. Why not simply excuse oneself? "Urinate" has always struck me as a term that should be used in a scientific or medical setting. Like so...

Dr. UTI: So have you felt the urge to urinate more frequently than usual?
Beleagured Patient: Oh yes. I feel like I gotta go all the time.
Dr. UTI: Interesting. Any severe back pain or fever?
Beleagured Patient: No, I just constantly feel like I have to pee.
Dr. UTI: Well, I am going to run some bloodwork, but I think you may have a mild bladder infection. Take this antibiotic three times a day, make sure you finish it, and that should help with your urinary problems.
Beleagured Patient: Sure! I will do just that. Gee, thanks!

Maybe I just hate this word because I hate public bathrooms and I hate having to "urinate" away from my own home. Or maybe it is just a nasty sounding word.

Or maybe...

Biology Lab TA: So we can see the kidneys on this fetal pig. This is where the urea is filtered out of the blood and sent to removed from the body along with the other components of urine.
Senior Maddy: Golly, urea is a funky word. Not cool, guys. By the way, this effing fetal pig is disgusting. I think I am going to puke up all those gin and tonics I had last night.
Awkward Freshman 1: Eh heh. Um, I think we need to make an incision here. *vomits*
Awkward Freshman 2: Wait, you can drink? Can you get me a handle of Aristocrat?

Hah.

And I apologize if this post was somewhat graphic. If you were grossed out by all this talk of "urination," then I have proved my point. It is a freaking foul word. QED.

Treachery

2009-06-25T14:53:00.003-04:00

...or "I fear the Greeks, even bearing gifts."

Here is my colloquial adaptation of arguably the most well-known part of The Aeneid.

Laocoon: No, no, simple Trojans. Don't let those good-for-nothing Greeks into your beloved Troy.
Simple Trojans: Naw, man, it's all good. This Greek guy Sinon says it will bring us luck. Besides, this horse is fricking cool!
Sea Serpents: Hey, Laocoon + spawn. You guys would make a great mid-afternoon snack. Chomp, chomp!
Simple Trojans: Aw man, sea snakes just swallowed up Laocoon. What a trouble-maker he was. Come on in, horsey!

We all know how that one ends. Or do we? Sure, the Trojan horse was indeed hiding a mess of those clever Greeks. They went on to bring a swift and crushing defeat to their dopey opponents. But that passage also left me with a love for the word "treachery." Just hearing about the "treachery of the Greeks" always got my ears a-buzzing as a fledgling word-lover. Even now, seven years later, "treachery" remains near the top of my all-time favorite word list. I work that sucker into daily conversation as much as I can. Basically, treachery means to go against an understanding of good faith. That is, you think everything is cool, then someone pulls the rug out from under you. I hate the act of treachery, yet I love the word. But beware kids: as we saw in the case of poor Laocoons, oftentimes the one indicating treachery becomes consumed in the aftermath of desperate acts.

Nom

2009-06-18T19:24:00.002-04:00

...or "Hai! A showt-owt 2 teh intarwebz"

Alright, all you and lolcat-luvrs, the werd up 2day iz "nom." We all no those pesky catz R the main uzerz of the werd. Uzed to indicate teh eating, "nom" iz used by internets savvy catz everywhere. I herd the werd "nom" eckoes the "munching" noiz made whilst nomming on a cheezburger, making it the omnom-atopoeic sownd effect of choice. This newer addition to teh Inglush lexikon is mostly uzed in a hyoomerus context or on teh internets. Often used in conjunxun with the word "om," it has taken over threads worldwide. But bewarez of Basement Cat or Gingercat when they nom: that iz the sound of them sucking out ur soul. Happy reading, ppl. Have a great Caturday!

Timepiece

2009-06-10T18:30:00.006-04:00

...or "Wow! Look at this beautiful costume watch for only thirty two dollars and change!"

Maybe it is just me, but I think this word is completely replaceable in the lexicon. Really, when is it necessary to say "timepiece." Why not "watch," "clock," or even "pocketwatch"? Actually, I am convinced this word was made up by Shop-At-Home TV channel superstars just needing a new word for "watch." After trying to hawk some great imitation Rolex at a super-discount price, I am sure they got sick of hearing themselves say "watch" over and over. Finally, one of the timeless icons of our modern day society has a flash of brilliance and the word "timepiece" is born. Wow. Thanks, guys. Yep, we're talking about the same geniuses that say $39.95 is "only thirty-nine dollars," or even worse, "thirty-nine dollars and change!" What a bunch of Goofuses. Even though it is usually one of the highlights of my day to make fun of these dumdums, I cringe when I hear them say such ridiculous things. Perhaps it is the mere connotation of the Home Shopping salesdorks that ruins this word for me, but I like to think that the word itself is obnoxious all on its own. It brings to mind whiny accents commenting on tacky, cheap jewelry. "What a beautiful timepiece! Is it new?" "Why yes, Mabel, I just bought it from Wal-Mart!" Gag.

Razor

2009-06-01T17:33:00.009-04:00

...or "my stupid scooter broke again"

Well, my ill-fated electric scooter wasn't really a Razor; it was a Schwinn. But I'll be darned if that thing did not break every two weeks. Despite my feelings about the scooter, I do love the word razor (thanks, Kirk!). I like the letter z. I use the letter z where it does not belong quite frequently in my informal correspondance. Furthermore, the word "razor" is almost onomotopoeic, or at least in my razor-burned experience. Maybe my razor is not supposed to make that sharp sound whilst shaving my legs. I also get a kick out of this word, because it comes from "raze," which generally brings to mind large buildings being knocked to the ground. However, "raze" can mean to scrape or shave off also. Kind of like knocking a mini-structure off to clear the underlying surface. Or maybe I just enjoy the sound of the word. The way I say this word in my head is in the same manner as Dr. Evil says "laser." But enough of this. I need to go to the grocery store to pick up some of what I call "razors."

Methinks

2009-05-27T15:28:00.004-04:00

...or "methinks I am a massive pseudo-intellectual"

Maddythinks this is a stupid word. Borrowing from the Middle English "me thinketh," "methinks" is an annoying adaptation that merely makes people sound like pretentious buttheads. People usually use this word when about to dispense what they invariably see as sage advice from a world-weary would-be mentor. They usually end up sounding like incompetent meddling fools. This is one word that I would petition be removed from the lexicon. I see this word as tantamount to referring to oneself in the third person. Actually, I take that back. It is worse. Usually people are not trying to portray a wise or scholarly persona when self-referencing in 3-p(o). So I would like to end with what methinks is a word of wisdom: If someone starts advice with the word "methinks," please disregard any further statements, for the subsequent advice is probably crap.

Dirigible

2009-05-20T19:11:00.004-04:00

...or "post #1 in reader-selection series"

I would like to give a "shout-out" to reader Vince for this one. He was quite prompt with suggestions on words. I am unsure of whether he likes or dislikes this one, but I have a sneaking suspicion it is a thumbs up for "dirigible." I like the word. As a verb, "dirigible" simply means having the ability to be steered. This comes from the Latin word dirigo, dirigere, meaning "to steer" or "to direct." However, the meaning that floats to mind for most people upon hearing dirigible is "airship." A lighter-than-air flying machine. A zeppelin (Also on Vince's suggested list, so i suppose he has a thing for airships). As you say this word, it too feels lighter than air. A nice summer word to be enjoyed whilst sipping a Mint Julep out on a rooftop garden. "Whoa, did you just see that dirigible go by?" "Why yes, yes I did. It was a vintage Zep! Speaking of vintage, I got a great Bordeaux you should try." In all seriousness, though, dirigibles are seriously cool things. From a time before the Orville and Wilbur and massive redundancy made heavier-than-air flight possible, dirigibles were the bees-knees. A massive, steerable flying machine, at the ready for private or military use, was quite neat-o back in the day. But the development and increased practicality of airplanes, coupled with some well-publicized disasters (hello, Hindenburg), waved the day of the dirigible farewell.

Choose your own blog

2009-05-19T17:11:00.005-04:00

Alright kids, I am going to start taking suggestions on words to write on if anyone would care to participate. For now, just comment on a blog (preferably the most recent) if you are particularly interested in hearing a snarky, biased opinion about a word. So if something catches your fancy or assaults your eardrums, let me know. Hopefully, I will have some sort of comment box set up soon. Put on your thinking caps!

Static

2009-05-19T16:41:00.007-04:00

...or "I have to stop keeping my blog like that, lest I lose my massive fanbase"

As you may or not be glad to know, after a hiatus I have returned. Although this blog has been quite static, everything else has been kind of nuts. But I look forward to updating this thing more regularly throughout the summer and beyond. So, in honor of the first of what will be many new posts, I dedicate this post to the purported end of a static blog. As we all know, I like to trace the roots of words back to Latin, because that is what I am familiar with, but a lot of times the words go further back than that. I will stand in my pattern of stopping with the Latin etymology. Sorry, kids, can't change everything. "Static" comes from the Latin "sto, stare," which means "to stand." After a few tweaks and changes in parts of speech, we get today's form and meaning of something that stands as it is, with little change. Something fixed. And a darn cool word to say. You can barely even hear the vowels. It is all hard consonants, which invariably entertain my cochleae. In fact, my longest running character in the first town I made for "Animal Crossing" was a curmudgeonly squirrel named Static. He was the coolest character ever. He was snarky, set in his ways, and always had a nasty word to say to or about other characters. I kept convincing him to stay put. My one regret about starting my town over was the loss of Static. Thankfully, game cartridges in simulation games (or, as I like to call them, RPG-lites) only have so much memory, so characters are recycled. I keep hoping that purple squirrel moves back to town. On that note, I must go play "Animal Crossing" and try and chase some of the current lame residents out of town, in hopes of getting that rotten squirrel back.

Bookpack

2009-05-05T11:41:00.008-04:00

...or "What shall I use to carry this two-inch, three-ring binder sloppily crammed with a disorganized array of lecture notes?"

I hear rather a lot of comments when I refer to my dorsal pouch of school supplies as a "bookpack." Apparently, the majority of the population refers to these satchels as either a "bookbag" or the ever-so-crass "backpack." However, I am not much for camping, and would never even consider backpacking across America, so "backpack" seems a bit broad of a term for the beast of burden of my academic pursuits. "Bookbag" also does not work: my cargo is far too weighty to be carried in just any old bag. Hence emerges the rugged hybrid of the two: the Bookpack. I carry no wussy bags when going to get my learn on. No Vera Bradley quilted totes here. I lug a sturdy, outdoors-ready, all-weather Goliath with the capabilities of carrying 80-plus pounds of books, crumpled papers, and discarded gum wrappers. It even comes complete with weight-distributing shoulder strap, a cushioned lower back section, and a geek buckle to fasten around my waist at my whim. That, my friends, is why I carry a bookpack and not a flimsy fabric casing for my texts. I am not the only one practicing this alternative lexical lifestyle. The fine folks over at L.L.Bean agree. They, too, call them "bookpacks." Now, do I have any converts?

Spouse

2009-04-30T05:06:00.004-04:00

...or "I told you I have a fear of commitment. Now sign here."

Say this word aloud. Do it. Do you feel slimy now? I sure do, and I only thought the word to myself. Maybe it is because "spouse" is unavoidably connected to marriage, maybe it is because "spouse" sounds horrible, or maybe it is just because I am weird, but I loathe this word. I view this word with a hatred usually reserved for the sloppy, shoddy writers of the Collegiate Times. "Spouse" comes from the Latin word spondeo, spondere (sorry guys, I am computer illiterate and thus do not know how to stress syllables), which means to promise. It comes from the past participle of the word meaning "promised." As in it's done. It's over. Completed action, past the point of no return. Unless, of course, you want to pay top dollar for a lawyer, alimony, child support, and a "mutually agreeable" settlement. Not to mention losing half of the value of your abode. Yowza. That's a lot of commitment. Personally, I do not even like to commit to saying this word. I am not typically a fan of the letter "p" in a leading position in a word, and that "s" makes it even worse. It rather spoils the spoken form of a word. So unless you are into changing your name, putting your assets on the line, and harvesting bitterness if things don't work out quite as planned, I suggest you guys join me in making the word "spouse" a dislike.

Trajectory

2009-04-28T13:56:00.001-04:00

...or "Intro to Physics Lab, I'll change, really I will, if only you will take me back"

I would like to dedicate this post to anyone who has ever chased the impossible dream of the mini-cannon trajectory experiment in the physics lab at Virginia Tech. Yeah, guys, this is for you. Or for me, rather, because I am almost certain I am the only person that lusts after those blasted mini-cannons as if they are some sort of glowing Adonis. You win, Physics 2305. I should not have dropped you (like you were hot, no less). But I shall put my glorious grandiose imaginations behind me in favor of more practical pursuits. That is to say, I do indeed have reasons for liking the word "trajectory" other than the mini-cannonballs shooting in a perfect arc of motion and bombarding my thoughts as they fall poetically to the cold tile laboratory floor.

And now I must execute a very rare, self-aware, paragraph break. Those pipe-dreams must be put aside as remnants of time past. Trajectory comes from one of my favorite Latin words, "iacere," meaning "to throw." Solder on "trans-" (which becomes "tra" when combined with certain letters), and you got yourself a trajectory all set for deployment into the lexicon. By this time, you guys know how I feel about the ever-musical hard c. But even more than that, I am a sucker for alveolar consonants. These consonants, often mistaken for dentals, are spoken with your tongue along the alveolar ridge on the roof of your mouth. Not only do these guys make for the building blocks of neat words, but they are also quite frequent in the English language. Alveolars, hard c, and those darn trigonometric paths all make "trajectory" rapidly hurtle down the path of greatness, at least in my dictionary.

Spawn

2009-04-20T11:27:00.007-04:00

...or "Get those damn kids away from me!"

I prefer to refer to small children as "spawn" rather than any term that implies affection. Kids are about as endearing to me as a venereal disease that has gotten rather out of hand. "Spawn" is a coldly collective term to refer to the masses. Occasionally, I will see a cute child, but I generally think of them as the scattered seedlings of Lucifer. "Spawn" is derived a couple of times removed from "expandere," meaning "to expand." Today, spawn means to reproduce, usually on a large scale. It can also be used as a noun to refer to progeny. Personally, I like the diphthong that "aw" spawns in this word. But mostly, I just like saying this word. I like the barren feeling of detachment progenerated when speaking this word to refer to offspring. # End spawn of my disdain//

Disdain

2009-04-14T00:51:00.008-04:00

...or "No, I really do like you. I promise. My fingers aren't even crossed."

I work in disdain like Monet worked in oil paints. Cheap tipper? I am disdainful of you. Rude? Disdain. Look at me the wrong way? You better believe I will deign to disdain. Alright kids, get ready for the nerdy wordy on disdain. Apparently this word comes from the way back in the day French word, "desdeignier," which means to not deem worthy. Hopefully, we all realize that the word goes a little further back than that. And I am willing to bet this will be a big shocker, but it goes way back to the Roman times, even. Dignare in Latin means, not surprisingly, to consider worthy. Dis, rather intuitively, implies a negation. Yes, kids, this is indeed the same root as the word "deign." It's all about the sense of worth. My favorite part of this word is the implication of aloofness. An inherit difference in the disdain-er and the disdain-ee. A certain awkwardness. Awkward and superior all at once. It's the impossible dream to people (not me. cough.) falling into the somewhat socially impaired crowd. I realize I may seem somewhat like I have a superiority complex, and I would just like to assure my readers (all three of you guys) that I do. But really, would you like me any better if I bemoaned my level of suck? Yeah, that's what I thought. So I will mosey right back up the many steps to my lofty ivory tower, and look out my window of disdain upon all the mere mortals, blinded by the sun surrounding my celestially high home as they gaze up at me.

Jaunty

2009-04-09T06:33:00.004-04:00

Personally, I like the French. They have given us a lot of great things. A coordinate plane of axes (well, sort of. Descartes' coordinate plane was not really a new idea, but that's math for you), Fermat, Renault cars, berets, Carmen, Tefal, Cartier, Cauchy, that goofy bastard Passepartout, and many hilarious jokes. However, why I like them today is the word "jaunty." Let me start with the obvious. Hopefully, you guys know by now my penchant for diphthongs (except "oi." gross, dude.), and this case is no exception. J, however, is not usually one of my favorite leading letters. I feel quite indifferent about this letter in most cases. It works here, though. But let's get back to those droll French. The word "jaunty" shares an origin with the word "genteel." Makes sense, since they have similar meanings. The French word "gentile", meaning lively or unconcerned, had a rather funky pronunciation off of the spelling, so it was adapted to a variant spelling of our own "jaunty." Interesting fact, though, the word "gentile" comes from the Latin gens, generis (here's hoping I am remembering my genitives correctly), which means "clan" or "family," which gives us our own, modern "gentile" also, meaning any of the non-Jewish population. Enough of this boring stuff though. I like the word "jaunty" not just for its sound, but I rather enjoy the meaning reflected in the words buoyant pronunciation. Carefree, lively, and stylish. Sprightly. Confident. I heard a story back in one of my many Latin classes about why French pronunciation is so weird. Apparently, back in the old days of the Roman Empire, knowledge and news spread slowly at times, and thus they were not always up on the complicated Latin linguistic rules. They were at times unsure how to pronounce words, so those jaunty devils made up their own, superior variant on the Latin language. Kind of "Well, WE pronounce it this way, so we are better." I am unsure of the validity of this story, but I think it is pretty amazing if it is indeed true. Pretty cool word, I would say. But for now, I am going to go pick out a rather jaunty outfit that will probably include pleather.

Chill

2009-04-06T19:46:00.002-04:00

So I was at a bar this weekend, and overheard some girl talking about trying to check out some bars and see what was "chill" that night. I hate when people use the word "chill" to indicate that something is "cool" or "happening." I also do not like it when people ask me if I want to "chill" later. Since when did "chill" cease to refer to temperature or health and start to refer to the party scene? Curiously enough, once upon a time, when people followed correct usage, "chill" used as an adjective referred not to an event being cool or laid back, but instead drab, depressing, or distant. People sure did not let their hair down and smoke the reefer at the "chill" events of old. Break out the good stuff at a stuffy wine and cheese party and you will get the cold shoulder. Let's see how you like THAT freeze out, because I imagine it will be quite chill-y out on the street.

Iterative

2009-03-31T12:17:00.011-04:00

So four years as a math major was not all for naught. I am getting a post on my blog out of it. I love the word "iterative." What's more, I love iterative algorithms. Love love love. Not so much programming them, but I did a pretty decent job avoiding that, which would also explain why I am no longer a math major (Thank you, Numerical Analysis Part II). To "iterate" means to do over and over. Generally, in mathematics, the point of iteration is to get closer and closer to a solution or certain point. Had I stayed in mathematics, I would have iterated Numerical Analysis Part II until I passed (probably would have taken i>=3 iterations). My lust for iteration began way back in '05 in my combinatorics class, when I happened upon (rather, was taught according to the curriculum) Dijkstra's Algorithm. It was about finding shortest distance or minimal flow of a graph, and I struggled with it a bit at first. After my hard-core theoretical professor explained it again to me, though, I wondered how I survived (i=0 while i<18; i = i+1) years without Mr. Dijkstra and his handy algorithm in my life.

Trashy

2009-03-30T13:42:00.004-04:00

Not surprisingly, I like this one. Really really like. In fact, I think it is the perfect way to dismiss anyone who becomes confrontational or out of control. Drop the "t-bomb" and walk away. In the way of insults, trashy, though much less refined than banal, is phenomenal. I like blatantly calling someone who is taking things too far inferior. The word also has a rather cathartic feel to it. Try calling someone who is bugging you trashy. Instant relief. However, there is one caveat. I would not recommend saying it to anyone's face unless you are relatively certain he will not remember. Perhaps not the most eloquent of words, but I would say it serves its purpose pretty darn well. And I think that is fucking classy, not trashy.

Celebrate

2009-03-24T04:42:00.005-04:00

This seemingly innocuous word bugs the bejeesus out of me. Not only does the grating sound massacre the auditory senses, but I think it is horribly overused. I have trouble pinpointing why I hate this word so much. It could be the soft "c." It makes the word sound slimy somehow. I think the long "a" also makes it rather unpleasant to hear. I think my main problem with this word would have to be with people who use it to indicate everything from waking up on time to honoring an acquaintance's birthday by a night of heavy drinking. I once knew someone who was "celebrating" almost daily. Seriously, it is not celebrating if it is something you do every day. I thought the point of the word was to commemorate a special occasion, not to cover up an alcohol problem under the thin guise of very frequent semi-notable events. Come to think of it, I will be pulling my weekly all-nighter; after I get through my hellish 14 hour Tuesday, I just may have to celebrate. I wonder if anyone will believe that my dirty feeling tomorrow is simply residual unctuousness from the word "celebrate."

Banal

2009-03-21T20:40:00.008-04:00

...or "You want me to put it where?"

The thing that distinguishes this delightful little entry from the masses is that there is no "correct" pronunciation. There are exactly three common ways to say "banal." Some folks pronounce this word like "canal." I am not that classy. I think it sounds snobbish.I also do not use the one that rhymes with (Lauren) Bacall. I instead use the pronunciation of "anal" with a "b" slapped in front. I think it puts a fresher spin on the word. Speaking of fresh, banal means the very opposite. It means commonplace or lacking originality. This is one of my favorite words for describing people I don't like. I dismiss these people as being so regular that they are indistinguishable from the mediocre masses, and hence not worth the time of day. Sorry, guys. If you want a quick ticket to Maddy's black list of banality, a written list of pet peeves is available upon request. Until then, as long as you tip me well and acknowledge that I am not only not banal, but superior, I think we will be just fine.

Dysthymia

2009-03-19T05:29:00.003-04:00

The first time I heard this word was in my twelfth grade psychology class. Its melodious pronunciation fails to indicate anything about the meaning of the word. For those not in the know, dysthymia is a chronic form of depression. It requires a longer duration for a dysthymic diagnosis than it does for a Major Depressive Disorder diagnosis, but has less severe symptoms than MDD. Derived from a word meaning "despondency", "dysthymia" means "ill humor" in Greek. I love this word though. I view this word like some people view the opera: a real downer, but the dulcet onrush to the ears makes it worthwhile.

Purloin

2009-03-19T02:23:00.003-04:00

Wow. Where to start on this one. I absolutely loathe this word. There are certain things I am generally unsettled by. One is wearing the color red. Another is the letter "p" in a dominant position. Yet another is the "oi" diphthong. Although I am much more staunchly opposed to wearing the color red than I am to the other grave offenses, combining a "p" and an "oi" in the same word is usually grounds for a cringe. On top of that, "purloin" has such a nasty meaning. It reeks of corruption and squirrelly bureaucrats skimming funds to the petty cash drawer when they were meant to go to orphans in Africa. Treachery and deceit are right up there on my list of things that unsettle me. For all these reasons, "purloin" is my first word up that I dislike.

Ditto...

2009-03-19T01:53:00.000-04:00

...or "I am with Patrick Swayze on this one."

Ditto is seriously one of the best words ever. It is derived from a form of the Italian word meaning "to say," which was in turn descended from the Latin verb dicere, also meaning "to say." Saying something that means, quite literally, that you are saying something? Pretty cool. What's more, "ditto" is a word that can mean anything. "School sucks." "Have a good night!" "I don't want to go to work." "I miss you." "Ditto" can mean any of those when said in response. Not only that, it works in a reflexive manner; in cases such as "I miss you," it shows the symmetric property. I cannot speak for anyone else, but I dig it when words take on mathematical properties. Ditto is one property short of an equivalence relation. Yowza. Perhaps that is why it is one of my most frequently appearing words in instant and text messaging. And to be completely honest, one of my most used words in spoken conversation also. So for those that love this word, my only answer is a resounding "me too."

Kinetic

2009-03-17T16:24:00.002-04:00

Whilst procrastinating for the inevitable moment when I have to go to work and hear the English language butchered all night by idiots who request more "rainch sauce," I have come up with my first entry. "Kinetic" is a bouncy little word meaning pertaining to, caused by, characterized by, or indicative of motion. I think it is an excellent word choice to get this blog moving. If you know me well, you should know my love for the letter "k." A word that both starts and ends with a "k" sound is generally fine by me. In both real life and in Scrabble gameplay, "k" is by and large my favorite letter. Furthermore, I have not to date heard anyone express dislike or displeasure with this word; it is a real /k/rowd pleaser. And I think that is pretty rocking.

To words, with love.

2009-03-17T16:22:00.000-04:00

Basically, this blog is devoted to words. Words that catch my fancy, words that rub me the wrong way, and words that I simply enjoy hearing. I reserve the right to an occasional rant about usage.