Impecunious, Hoarfrost

*sigh* It's that time of year, isn't it... The time where you walk outside to the brisk air, only to slip on ice. The time of shaking all the hoarfrost off the plants in your garden. The time of gift giving, but more importantly (and expensively), gift buying. You watch your wallet slowly cripple with hunger, but to no avail. It moans for more cash, but, shame, you spent all your money on presents, you poor, impecunious being.

Hoarfrost:
Mom: Ice that forms instantaneously on muddy ground
Dad:
Kevin: Frost that only occurs on trees
Justin: Frost that only occurs on a horse

Okay. Close your eyes. Now imagine frost on the ground. Imagine frost on the window. Imagine Frosty the Snowman. Imagine Frosty in a bikini. Now open your eyes. I'm on a centaur.  This blog is brought to you by Old Spice.
Anyway, back to frost. Don't you always feel so bad for your plants that are all outside in the snow, and they're always covered in that really cool frost? That frost is known as Hoarfrost (left), and it's a less common version of "regular" frost. What's so special about Hoarfrost is that it comes about by water in the air freezing to the currently-frozen plant. When the wind blows the moisturized air into the ice, some of that water in the air gets frozen to the plant and it builds and it builds and it builds and it builds. When freezing temperatures converge with fog, however, the result is a phenomenon called "Rime Formations" (below)

The word Hoarfrost, though it has no clear etymology, appears in the Bible. 
"He giveth snow like wool; he spreadeth the hoarfrost like ashes" -KJV Psalm 147:16.


Impecunious:
Mom: Having no taste, tasteless
Dad:
Kevin: Utterly forgettable
Justin: Disturbing

Don't you hate talking to your friends (or strangers at the bus stop) and then have to explain that you have no money, but you don't want to say the word "broke"? Well now, for the low low price of $19.99, you can use the word Impecunious to avoid saying that your pockets are hole-y. Because they are synonyms after all.
The word Impecunious comes to us from none other than the Latin-speakers. Yes, the Romans and their many words... They obviously didn't want Jesus, Alexander the Great, and Cleopatra knowing their weakness of no-money syndrome, so they made this word that others wouldn't understand.*
Anyway, the Latin word pecunious means money, and that combined with im-, meaning not, you now have the word that is synonymous with Not Money. Language!

*That's all a lie. None of those lived in the same time period. I'm funny.

Assonance, Zeugmas, and Paraprosdokians

Recently, while surfing the web, I came across some words regarding language (Assonance, Zeugmas, and Paraprosdokians), and how it may be portrayed in poetry, metaphors, and humor, respectively. These aren't words that you can use in daily conversation, but may just be good words to know.

So what is Assonance? Assonance is a form of poetry where the same sound is repeated over and over. This could be a set of vowels, a set of consonants, or a combination of both.
In English, there are two common lines involving Assonance:

How now, Brown Cow?  and  The Rain in Spain falls Mainly on the Plain

Assonance is simply alliteration of sounds and syllables instead of specific letters.
A more "severe" form of this poetry is Univocalic Style. Guess why.          No, go ahead. Guess. I bet you're wrong.
Univocalic Poetry is when the author uses only one vowel, (A, E, I, O, or U) and no other. I can see that being really difficult. Here, let me try:

Gordon cooks food:

Wow, good food.

Josh cooks food:

Poor food.

I guess it wasn't as difficult as I thought... But Reverse Univocalic. That's really difficult, like this classic example:

How quickly can you find out what is so unusual about this paragraph? It looks so ordinary that you would think that nothing is wrong with it at all, and, in fact, nothing is. But it is unusual. Why? If you study it and think about it, you may find out, but I am not going to assist you in any way. You must do it without coaching. No doubt, if you work at it for long, it will dawn on you. Who knows? Go to work and try your skill. Par is about half an hour.

That paragraph contained no E's. How does one even do that?
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Zeugmas are a pretty cool figure of speech where you combine a metaphoric reference with a literal one, and tie it all together. For example, with weeping eyes and hearts, or You are free to execute your laws, and your citizens, as see fit.*
While researching this, I found my favorite one in the comments section of an article:
"Hitmen are expensive, so she took out a loan and her husband."
Also, there's basically no information on this, so let's move on, shall we?

*That one was from a Star Trek episode. Fun Fact.
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Paraprosdokians, otherwise known as the most annoying word to spell, are actually a really fun figure of wordplay. It's been used multiple times by well-known names, such as Stephen Colbert, Winston Churchill, Groucho Marx, Aristotle, and, of course, Homer Simpson.
So what is a Paraprosdokian? Well, if you figure that Para- means Against, and Prosdokia- means Expectation, you can assume that it means Something Unexpected. And that's exactly what it is. A Paraprosdokian is a phrase with an unexpected turn at the end, normally humorous. For instance:
"You can always count on Americans to do the right thing--After trying everything else first." -Winston Churchill

Now, what's interesting is that every so often, you get a Paraprosdokian that plays on a word and a different meaning on that same word, like: Time flies like an arrow, while fruit flies like a banana. This is playing off the word "Fly", using it as both a verb and a noun. Does that sound familiar at all? I should hope so, because this Paraprosdokian is actually a form of a Zeugma! Yes! That word you just learned! Except that these also go by another name: Garden Path Sentences:

Garden Path Sentences are forms of Zugmas and Paraprosdokians, but a bit more complex. For example, try to make sense of the following sentence.

The old man the boat.

It's a bit confusing, right? But if you think about it, and after you splice the sentence (make it more clear), you end up with something along the lines of "The boat was manned by the Elderly"
The name "Garden Path Sentences" comes from the saying "To be led down the garden path", rather, "To mislead"

Wintercearig

What a great word, Wintercearig. (Win-ter-sherry)  I'm sure that you can guess what this adjective means, but can other people?

Mom: A Gaelic word. A jaunty, frolicky manner

Dad: Dark and Gloomy

Kevin: Having snowman-like features

Justin: Dressed with respect to the season

Jessie: Someone who goes down chimneys. (I think she didn't want to create an adjective.)

Kimmy: Disappointing, in reference to when it rains (as opposed to snowing)

Oh, what sorrow for Wintercearig people. It's sad, don't you think, when someone is brought down in the dumps by a Christmas-y, snowy Winter...

Then again, I am very Wintercearig when it snows and, I mean, you have to go out in the snow, right? But then you come back in and you sit your bones down by the fire, but you're still cold on the inside... And that kinda sucks. You know what else puts me in a Wintercearig mood? The greediness that lies within all people during the Christmas shopping season. 

Anyway, Wintercearig.

This word comes to us with many thanks to Alemania, rather, Germany. I mean, I'm guessing you can figure out what Winter means... But the Cearig? Where does that come from? Well, it actually derives from the Proto-Germanic* root Karagaz, which means Anxious or Wary. What's more, the English word Chary, which also means Wary.

So yeah. Wintercearig.

*The most "recent" version of the language

Pro-Tip: Compliment/Thank all your cashiers whenever you go shopping because they probably had a really rough day!!!

Thanksgiving Special!

Ah, Thanksgiving. The holiday dedicated to eating, with a brutal history. I love spending time with my family, gaffing in a huge group. Staring at the immense Farrago on my plate. Of course, afterward, I always feel cloyed because I am so farctated.

Oh, sorry. Did none of that make sense? I guess I should tell you, huh...

Let's start in order, yeah?

To Gaff (pronounced Gaef) is actually to just talk in a loud, rude manner. Face it. We all know someone who gaffs all the time. For some, it's their Uncle or their Aunt, for some, it's their English teacher.....
You know, the Old English had a term, Gafspaec, meaning Blasphemous Speech, but it eventually turned into a place: The Halls of Blasphemous Speech, like High School.

A Farrago (accent on the first syllable). That's a fun word I'll be using more often. Why? Well, because it means "A Really Confusing Mixture." I mean, again, it applies to High School. Or Thanksgiving dinner.
But what's most interesting is where this word comes from. Far- is a Latin root meaning Grain. Now why is that relevant? Well in the 16th century, the Grains used to feed the animals was called, amazingly enough, Farrago. So when you think about it, that's what this modern version represents.

Another one I figure you would like to know over break is the word Cloy. It might have to do with Tryptophan in Turkey that you commonly hear about. I mean, it may have a connection. That's because Cloy means to become tired from excess of food. Aka Thanksgiving.

Now this has a pretty complicated story behind it. Cloy comes from Cloyen (To Hinder), which comes from Accloyen (To Fasten), which comes from Encloer (To Stop), which comes from Inclavere (To Nail). But here's the kicker. Inclavere means something along the lines of speeding up a horse by nailing horseshoes onto it. But if Cloy means to Hinder... Hmm...

Farctate is a synonym of Cloy.
And yeah. I'm tired

Some words.

It's still a bit early for Thanksgiving words, which will probably also be next week, but I'm still going to do one relating to food. Sue me.

Tarantism: Does it mean:
The Act of behaving like a Spider, or
The Glass in between the Liquids in the Glow Stick, or
The process of extracting Viruses from your computer?

Fun fact: It's none of those.
Tarantism is actually a pretty obscure word. You know how there are some things that you just think "Why is there a word for that?" That was basically my thought process when I found this word.
Have you ever been in public or out on the Ultimate Frisbee field or in the movie theater or in the car or on your bed or falling asleep or basically anywhere and you just wanted to break out some moves and shake it loose and dance and grind and pirouette and prance and gambol?
I hate to break it to you, but you've just been Tarantised. Oh yeah, it's an epidemic. Mainly an epidemic that causes you to want to burst out dancing!
What if everyone was affected by Tarantism?
This word comes around thanks to Europe: Southern Italy, actually. Down there, where they speak a dialect of "New Latin," some people have come up with this word. Probably because they come from the town of Taranto. (Not to be confused with Toronto, but I suppose they could be related...)
I mean, they obviously didn't create this word for this precise definition.
It actually has to do with the Wolf Spider. Yes, the humble, nightmare-inducing Lycosa Tarantula  would often bite people with a poison that caused erratic movements. So when there was a massive Lycosa infestation from the 14th to 17th centuries, it probably resembled a medieval Harlem Shake.
Now Tarantism is known as Sydenham's Chorea.


Degust: Could it mean:
To Burp after a meal, or
To Clean your toenails while watching TV?

Oh, and I guess it's also a Company in Italy...

Neither of those either... Come on, guys...
I hope you all Degust all your food in a couple weeks. I mean, that is the point of Thanksgiving, right? To eat, savoring every single bite? At least, that's what I'm going to do.
Any Spanish or Latin speaker can inform you that gustar, and its other forms, mean To Like or To Taste. Also, if they speak Latin, they can tell you that de- means off, or apart. So, yeah, I guess it would literally mean something along the lines of "To Taste something apart", or "To Enjoy every bite".

Autumny Words!

Immensikoff: 
Kevin: A relatively small sneeze.
Dad: Like Emancipation? A man's cough. A programming style.
Mom: A really small water sprite
Scotty: A giant Russian

You know, eventually, we will reach a day when we all bring our very important Immensikoffs to school. But, I mean, that's pretty logical. After all, we'd be pretty chilly without our fur-lined coats. Oh- I guess people don't have money to buy fancy coats anymore. Oh well.
Anyway, this word comes from a short story by Arthur Morrison called A Lucifo Match. In this magazine publishing, a young boy pick-pockets from the rich, mainly large opulent men wearing these Immensikoffs. It was written in 1909.

Immensikoff is a very Slavic word. It is relevant to Yiddish, German, and Russian:
The Yiddish are credited as the creators of the word, but mainly because they were jealous of all the wealthy Germans.
The German word Kopf means Head, and Immense means the same thing. So it was a slight nod towards the big-headed German money-lords.
Finally, they decided to insult the Russians, too. Because why not? Have you ever realized that many Russian names end in -kov. So did the Yiddish. Which is why they put -koff at the end of the word.

I can't find a video file anywhere on the interwebs, but a man named Arthur Lloyd wrote a song called Immensikoff, and it's exactly what it sounds like it would be about. A large rich man with a big coat.

Filemot:
Kevin: The possibility of being reincarnated as a chicken
Dad: A dry-fly used for brook trout in high mountain lakes in the early Autumn
Mom cheated because she lived in Denmark for a while so she speaks some French and asked me to spell it.
Scotty: A rather large argument about a relatively small matter

So do you want to know what this highly-pertinent word means? Of course you do! Why wouldn't you?! After all, it is autumn words! It's the best combination of things!
Filemot is simply the color of dead, decaying leaves. Also known as the color of this font. It's not quite the color of the radiant red or orange leaves, but it is the nice brown color. I actually think that this is my favorite color of brown. It's light, but not too light. The Goldilocks Brown.
Filemot, or if you prefer the French spelling, Feuillemorte comes, amazingly, from French! Yes! It comes from the roots Feuille- which is a Leaf and -Morte, meaning Death. So if this beautiful color of brown was a crayon, it would be called "Death Leaf".
See, whenever I research the roots, I try and figure out other words with the same roots. Morte- is pretty simple: Mortal, Immortal, etc. But when I came across Feuille-, I was really confused. But then it dawned on me. If that means Leaf, then Foliage must come from the same word, and possibly even Flower?

It's pretty interesting, really. This word was first used in Lewis Wallace's Christian novel, Ben-Hur: A Tale of the Christ in 1880. Just a fun fact.
"Each compartment crowded with labelled folios all filemot with age and use"

Halloween Special!

Well, I guess it's Halloween this week, so y;know, I may as well do a blog with some spooky words. I mean, words can't really be that spooky, but I don't even care. They're great.

This first one, you might recognize. The second one is less common and you probably haven't heard it before. *sips Starbucks and rewraps scarf as I take a picture with my Poloroid while listening to total Indie Music*

Kafkaesque is actually a pretty well-known word. It is a term coined by Frederick Karl, biographer of Franz Kafka, a Czech author. Kafka wrote stories and plays in the early 1900s until he died at age 41.  Kafka's stories would often be set in a dystopian and convoluted scenario.
Karl describes Kafkaesque as "a surreal pattern in which all your control patterns, plans, behavior, all begin to fall to pieces." How I understand this, Kafkaesque is something that is just terrifying beyond belief. Something so unbelievable, yet possible, so there's always that fear and paranoia of something bad happening. I mean, that's just how I perceive it.
Take this comic off to the right, for example. It's a giant bug. And that's pretty terrifying in and of itself. And it feels like it's part of this horrifying story where bad things happen, like ginormous bugs crawling all around and now I'm never going to sleep again...

Now, I'm willing to bet that some people have heard this next word before, but I haven't, and I like it.
Let's move to a scene that does 2 things:
Puts you all in a super spooked mood
and shows why I shouldn't be in the Creative Writing class:

Okay, so you're sitting outside. It's Halloween. You know, pretty dark and all that. There are a couple bats, because those are spooky. Suddenly, you feel a gust of air over your head, and you see a broom. There's a witch. Spooky stuff. You see her fly off, and hear a guffaw come from the same direction...

You're really spooked now, right? You should be. I have goosebumps. I'm scared.
But yeah. Guffaw. Have you heard it? Maybe.

Simply, (and because there's no special story behind it or anything, so anything I write will be simple), a Guffaw is a laugh or a cackle. 
You know how a witch might cackle in the night? Think of that. Except replace the word Cackle with Guffaw.

The problem with me telling you this word is that there is no backstory behind it. It's probably an onomotopoetic word, meaning that it got its name by the sound a Guffaw makes. A kind of "ckhufffffawwwawwawaww" sound.

Gamp and Roscid

I got some nice Autumn-y words for you this evening. They're pretty cool. Sorry if I don't have much information on these. Most of them are really old, so there is not much I know about them or can find online.

Roscid:
Jessie: A Rose mixed with an orchid
Kevin: An Overly Sarcastic Comment
Dad: A repulsive smell of horse manure
Mom: The bright red color of a rooster comb

One of the words I found this week is something that is simultaneously Autumnal and Vernal.  This word, Roscid, means a light rain, a mist, or a dew.  Depending on how well you know Shakespeare, if you have memorized Timon of Athens, you may remember this line: "My words neither aspersed or inspersed with the flore or the rore of eloquence"  But that's not the same word!  Well, yeah. Actually, rore is a brother-word of Roscid, meaning that they come from the same root and mean exactly the same thing. But they're different words.  
These words come from the Latin word ros, which means dew.  Now, have you ever tried this Italian drink called "Rosolio"? Do you care to guess where it comes from?  This drink also comes from Ros-, along with -sol-, meaning Sun. So really, this drink is made from Sun Rays of Dew. Which actually makes perfect sense, considering that it's made from the sundew plant, shown below.


Ros- has no relation to the word Rose.

Gamp: 
Kevin: Underwater Sex
Dad: The Lint found in a dryer
Mom: A gay gallivant

Now, if you read my blog last year, which you probably didn't, you might remember the Victorian Slang post I made. And that would come in handy now, because a Gamp is the same exact thing as a Rain-Napper. Now, if you are unfamiliar with the term, a Gamp is a really old-time (and slightly current) way to say Umbrella.

What a nice sign I found at the
fair this year...

I'm really excited to teach you the history of this word. Because it's 100% wonderful and 100% really quick to describe.
So Charles Dickens, famous author and all that, wrote a book called Martin Chuzzlewit. And in this novel, he described a character; an old woman carrying around a large cloth umbrella. And her name?  Mrs. Gamp. 
So we can all thank Charles Dickens for this great new way to say Umbrella.
By the way, if you want some more words for Umbrella:
In Britain, they often call them Brollies, which is just a variation of Brellie, a shortened version of Umbrella.
And other English Speakers in Europe will often call their umbrellas "Oil-Skins"



I was going to do two more, but I have 3 more assignments to do tonight, so I'll either edit this tomorrow when I get time or do these other two in a couple weeks.

Charrette and Orkusuga

My blog is very wonderful and very relevant to me this week. Please appreciate it.

Charrette:
Ma: The pattern that water makes in dry soil.
Pa: A wet long kiss.
Sis: An antioxidant found in charcoal.
Bro: Extremely fancy carrots.
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I'm really tired. And I have a lot of work to do. And a lot of homework. And I really don't want to spend time doing my blog right now. I guess I'm just going through a Charrette and will be for a while.
Yeah. A Charrette is a period of lots and lots and lots of difficult work. So I really wasn't kidding when I said that I'm going through a Charrette. 
Oddly enough, the word Charrette comes from 19th century France. And guess the origin of the word. Go ahead. Guess.

Give up?
The word Charrette comes from the word Chariot. "¿And what does the word chariot have to do anything with lots of difficult work?" you ask. Well that is also what I asked myself, and then Google.
It's a great story...
It all began at the Ecole de Beaux Arts in France. There were some sketch-artist professors that had assigned drawings for their students. And then these professors would ride around campus on their chariots searching for their students so that they could collect their assignments. Often, these students would jump on the back of the chariots in order to finish their drawings before they had to turn them in.
So there ya go. That is how we get Charrette from Chariot.

Orkusuga:
Ma: Making music with water.
Pa: A vegetable root used in Indian Cuisine.
Sis: When orca play musical instruments and play the tubas.
Bro: A variety of underwater sea-lettuce that hunt in packs.

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Technically, this word describes a person, but I find it usable with a thing, namely homework.

Orkusuga is used to describe a person (or thing) that is energy-sucking, exasperating, exhausting, etc. Except that when it's used for a person, it means "someone who requires so much attention and emotional maintenance that they sap away the energy from the people that offer them help.

Yeah. We all know one. Somebody that, when you try to help them, they just need so much attention that you're just soduifhszdlxiughvlsduixfvgl. You know?

There is literally no background information on Orkusuga. I was so desperate to find something that I actually got to page 3 on Google. That's pretty desperate.

The only info on it that I could find is that it's Icelandic.

Weird Smells???

So any avid reader of my blog may remember that around this time last year, I made a post on Petrichor.  You can find that here.  But if you're lazy and don't want to read it, (which you should read it because it's awesome) Petrichor means the smell of Rain on dry ground. Zeus Blood.

Anyway, so this week, and a year in the future, I am doing the word Incendimus, which means an entirely different thing.  Have you ever made a fire in a metal fireplace after a long summer and the fire just smells SO AMAZING?!  Yeah. That would be Incendimus. 

Incendimus, simply, is the smell of Hot Metal, whether it's a stove, kettle, fireplace, welding, etc.  It's also the smell of, like previously stated, the first fire (in the fireplace) of the cold season.

Personally, I love this smell.  Whenever Fall comes around, the Petrichor and Incendimus just overwhelm me. I love the smell of fall, I guess. The smell of rot and decay of leave is just so... Mmm...

The word Incendimus comes from the Latin roots, Incendimus, meaning Fire, and Mustus, meaning New or Fresh.  And I looked everywhere to find when it was first used, and it turns out, it was created by the same guys who created Petrichor. I.J. Bear and R.G. Thomas, 2 Australian publishers, used this made-up word in an Article in 1965.

*I totally made this word up.Happy October!!!                            

I make this post for the Irony and the Wishful Thinking

I'd like to take a moment to point out that this whole post is in regard to the fires that have devastated California and now this post is just really ironic and odd.
Your three new words this week for you to learn and use from now on are Antediluvian, Stillicide, and Hyetal.

Antediluvian: (adj.)
Mom: Before the age of Copepods
Jessie: Resembling an item from the Elizabethan Era
Dad: A fishing knot
Kimmy: Paranoid that people don't care about your interests
Kevin: Prior to the invention of shampoo.

If you're any good with taking apart words into their roots, you may have already figured out that part of this word, Ante-, comes from the Latin word for "Before."  You might also recognize the term Diluvian, which means "Flood."  And that's true.  You may also know this word if you have read and studied Biblical stories, like that of Noah's Ark.  Yes, Antediluvian means "Before the Deluge," or, in layman's terms, "Before the Flood."
This word is often used to refer to the world before the Great Flood took place. Antediluvian Earth was a planet of grass, trees, animals, sinful humans, more animals, some more vegetation, and a lot of sin-ridden people.  But the word Antediluvian can also be a noun, in reference to any object before the destruction by water.  For example, the dinosaurs, because they were far extinct before the Flood, were Antediluvians.  Humans, at one point, were all Antediluvians. 
Now, all of us... We are all Postediluvians. (Did you like that? I made up my own word!)   We all live after the time of the Great Flood.

Stillicide: (n.)
Mom: The act of killing authors
Jessie: One of those plant killers
Dad: Drinking whiskey and you set the still to the side.
Kimmy: Slang for distilling apple cider
Kevin: Pigeon Murder

You probably saw this word and immediately thought, "Wait! -Icide! I know that root! It comes from the same word as Suicide, Pesticide, etc.!"  There's also a 100% possibility that you were wrong.  Stillicide is a very funny word in that sense. Because it has nothing to do with anything related to killing.  In fact, the word Stillicide is a Latin based word, coming from the roots Stilla and caedere. Stilla refers to a drop of something, mainly water.  Caedere comes from the verb meaning To Fall.  The combination of the two, Stillicide, literally means "Falling Water."  I guess that works as a definition, but the real phrase means something more than that. Let me paint you a picture. Close your eyes. (And read this at the same time):

   You sit in your room waiting for this terrible drought to end. As you look out the window, you see storm clouds a'brewing. You gasp. It starts to bucket down rain as it approaches your house.  You start to hear the pitter-patter of rain on your roof as you watch it trickling down your window. You close your eyes and listen to the rain overflow the gutters.  Yes. Listen to that Stillicide.

Wow. That was refreshing. Think of how calm you are... Now, think about the fact that we unfortunately never use this word. WHY IS THAT?! Is it because we don't have a time to ever use it? Poet Thomas Hardy (1840-1928) would like to disagree. He made an effort to use many uncommon words in his poems. For example, in his beautiful poem Friends Beyond, he writes:

In the muted, measured note 

Of a ripple under archways, or a lone cave’s stillicide

I highly suggest this poem. It's amazing.

Hyetal: (adj.)
Mom: A bone found in the throat
Jessie: Like the screeching noise an old woman makes when her cat is stuck in the tree, like a hyena
Dad: A nymph fly, used in the morning to match the morning hatch.  (3 guesses as to who the fisherman is in the family...)
Kimmy: Hungry for one's own child
Kevin: Fashionably destructive.

Hyetal. Now there's a word I could get used to saying.  Pronounced Hi-ET-al, this word is simply a substitute for the word Rainy. But this word is basically never used!  In fact, the last time it was recorded in the Oxford Dictionary was in 1864. 150 years ago. So there's basically no background information on it...
The word Hyetal comes from the Greek word Huetos or Hyei.  Huetos is the noun, "Rain" while Hyei means "It is raining."  Other words using these roots include a Hyetal Chart, Heitology, and Heitograph. 

Also, if you're looking for another word meaning Rainy, I suggest the word Pluviose. It's a cool word.

Jentacular and Omphaloskepsis

You know, every so often, when I come across words, I'll choose them because they either have a really great definition or they have a wonderful spelling (Or they're fun to say).  This week, both words happen to fit 2 or 3 of those categories: Jentacular and Omphaloskepsis.

Jentacular:  This is a wonderful word that you can believe that I will be using so much more often, now that I know that it exists. But what does it mean?  Well, it doesn't mean any of the following:
Dad: The Jerking of the Lure through the water during fishing
Mom: The opposite of Jocular, so "Morose and downtrodden"
Jessie: Someone who is spectacular, like me, and likes magenta.
My old buddy Matt Gaylord, who I was talking to on Facebook:  A Clog in a certain artery

Okay, so they were pretty wrong.  Because you know what Jentacular means? It means "Of, or relating to, Breakfast."  ISN'T IT USEFUL!?  It provides a nice alternative to breakfast than just the word "breakfasty."  Speaking of Breakfast, do you ever stop and realize that it means to take a Break from a Fasting?  Like, when you sleep, you're basically fasting. (Unless you sleepwalk into the kitchen.)
Anyway, Jentacular comes from the Latin word Jentaculum! Imagine that! It was first recorded in a receipt book by John Murray in 1820. It read, "To Valetudinarians and others, the following method of making coffee for breakfast is earnestly recommended, as a most wholesome and pleasant Jentacular breakfast."  Again. To replace "Breakfasty"

To go along with this word, Prandium can be used instead of the word Lunch, just as Cena can be used as an alternate to Dinner.

Omphaloskepsis:  So this was the word that fits all of the categories. It's fun to pronounce and spell, and it has the best meaning.
Dad: The inability to program in an object-oriented language
Mom: Someone who critiques word blogs.
Jessie: (She only got close because she's heard it before but not all of it:) Being unsure if belly buttons are real or not?
Matt: When ghosts sexually reproduce
Again, not really, except for Jessie.  Now, let's see... What is the simplest way to explain this word?

Wait-- Really? That's actually a thing? Is there actually a word for contemplating one's navel?
Oh, yes. Yes there is. There's a word for everything.

Now, this word in particular, Omphaloskepsis, It was actually invented by author Aldous Huxley, (Brave New World) in his novel, Those Barren Leaves.  "A word meaning contemplation of the navel, Omphaloskepsis would be of use only to a deipnosophist. It has no more business appearing here than has deipnosophist."  That's it.  It was made by an esteemed author... about studying your belly button.

Omphaloskepsis comes from the Greek roots omphalos-, meaning "Navel, Boss, or Hub," and -skepsis, meaning "To look at, observe"


And that's it. Those are the only two words you need to know this whole week.  Jentacular and Omphaloskepsis. Use them, enjoy them, love them.

What in the name of heck is a Skeuomorph?

Yeah, yeah. I know what you're thinking.  "Josh, what is this word, and how do I even pronounce it?"  Well that is a very good question.  But just as a brief intermission, care to see what my family said when I asked them what a Skeuomorph is?

Dad: "A dry fly used for bass fishing"
Mom: "Something that twists itself inside out to change its shape."
Jessie: "A shape that is a series of lines that are arrayed."

Okay, so at least Jessie and Mom got the whole "shape" thing right. But oddly enough, Dad gave a really good example of a Skeuomorph.
See, a Skeuomorph is an unnecessary decoration on an object.  For example, the blue dye in jeans.  It doesn't need to be there, because the fabric used for jeans is originally white or tan.  But since we always associate Jeans with Blue, clothing companies unnecessarily use blue dye to make us feel better.

So, why was a Dry Fly a good example of a Skeuomorph?  (I don't know much about fly-fishing, but I do know this much.) The Fly does not have to have the colors it does. Many bass are not color-blind, per se, but they do have a terrible sense for color.  They see more color than dogs, who only see in Black and White, but bass see in very muted shades of colors.  So in this picture, there is no absolute need to have it all these colors.  In this case, it's more of a selling strategy, the company knowing that fishermen will go for the more brightly-colored flies.



The word Skeuomorph comes from the roots skeu-, meaning vessel or implement, and -morph, meaning shape, form, or structure.  The word was first used by Charles Sutton in his Transactions of the Lancashire and Cheshire Antiquarian Society, in 1883.  It was not defined in the book, so I don't know how it got the meaning it has today.

You encounter Skeuomorphs every day, without even realizing it.  Think about it-- when you use your cell phone, what does the icon for the Phone/Dialer look like? It most likely looks like a retro, 90's telephone.  And the Mail? It looks like an envelope, even with how hackneyed they are these days.  App developers purposefully create their icons to look like representations of things, even though it's completely unnecessary.

So there you go. Skeuomorph. Use it whenever possible. It's a great word.

Word Porn

Okay, guys. So this is going to be so great. You're going to learn words and stuff.
I'm really happy I get to continue this blog. Words are my passion, and they're basically the coolest things in the world. Like, just think of the word Shemomakvda, which means "I accidentally killed him/her" in Georgian.  Like. Word Porn. That's what this blog is. It's the simplest way to describe it.

So, for all y'all just now reading my blog for the first time, I normally introduce a word and give a definition, sometimes lengthy, sometimes pretty short. But if they're really short, I'l lprobably include 1 or 2 more words.
So the word for this week is Leucipotomy. Like, what in the name of Sam Heck is that?  Well. Let me tell you a little story. Sometimes, people invent a word... Just to say that they invented a word! And that, dear friends, is where Leucipotomy comes in.
Morris Maples, author of the novel White Horses and other Hill Figures, was probably thinking of something like, "Hey. There's got to be some way to shorten that title."  And he did just that. (But didn't end up changing the title at all.) Leucipotomy means the Act of Carving Small Horses on Hillsides. Yeah.

The term comes from the Greek Leuci-, meaning white, hippo-, meaning horse, and -tomy, being the cutting out of. (As in Appendectomy)

Now, fun fact, the small town of Devizes, in Wiltshire, England, had a lot of these carved horses in their hillsides. Like a lot. Buttloads. And so, in honor of their Millennial Anniversary, they made a gigantic carved white horse. That took 7 people 10 days to finish. It's a big horse. Larger than life.

So now, whenever you see a white horse carved into a hillside, just know... You just saw somebody's Leucipotomy.

Some words for the penultimate post...

Ah. We've reached that time of typing the penultimate post, (i.e. The second-to-last post), which is kinda sad, because I liked this blog. But, to quote Geoffrey Chaucer, all good things must come to an end. And so, next week, you should expect a big, bountiful bonanza of baffling words. Bam. But, to continue as normal:

Oh man, do I have some words for you this week.  I'm going to experience alamort* after teaching you these. I might even feel the urge to pandiculate* afterwards. But anyway, let the wording commence:
I feel it's been a while since I've asked other people what they thought, so...
Oneirataxia:
Mom: Moving towards something beneficial
Dad: Isn't that a spell from Harry Potter that puts you to the front of the line you are waiting in?
Jessie: Jess is a lame-o and refuses to participate in this.

Fernweh:
Mom: The mulch you put around a fern plant to prevent drying.
Dad: An empty beer glass.

Komorebi:
Mom: Japanese for "burnt popcorn."
Dad:  The radishes that are on a sushi plate.

To describe Oneirataxia to you, first, I'd like you to listen to this song for ~5 seconds:

Basically, Oneirataxia is the inability to distinguish dreams from real life.
Oneirataxia comes from the Greek root "Oneiro-", which means "Dream".  An Oneirocrite is a dream interpreter. It also comes from the Greek suffix, "-taxia", meaning "Direction, Orientation".  So, what I can gather from those two meanings, Oneirataxia would literally mean "A disorientation caused by dreams", which is pretty close to the actual definition.

Now, everyone reaches that point at the end of the school year and the beginning of the summer where they just want to travel! And they just ache and yearn and desire to just travel everywhere! And, let me be the first to tell you that this is Fernweh that everyone is experiencing. Fernweh is a German word that literally translates (not very well) to "Farsickness". You know. Like Homesickness, but the opposite.  And, in case you were wondering, the German word for Homesickness is Heimweh. The French have a different word, similar to Homesickness, but not quite.  Dépaysement, if it were possible to translate, would literally mean "Homesickness from not being in one's home country."

And, you see Komorebi most days in the Spring and Summer. But you don't really realize it. Especially if you live in Kansas. Or a place that has no trees. Because Komorebi is the sight of sunlight through the leaves of trees. I could go into the physics why you don't see every leaf's shadow individually, but actually see them as a whole, but that would take a long time. Probably about as long as it took me to explain why I wouldn't explain it. Anyway, Komorebi comes from the Japanese Language. Also, it's an Umbrella, which I kept coming across as I tried to research this word.

But yeah. Now I only have 1 more chance to teach you guys words. Also, I have to admit something. Remember a couple months ago, when I told y'all about Quarinkates, and how they are the chills you get from listening to good music? Yeah. I made that up. Quarinkates: Definitely not a word. But use it like it was. I want to invent a word.

*Hey. Don't look these up. I'll tell you next week. It'll be good. I swear.

Roald Dahl Appreciation Post

Okay. Roald Dahl. He wrote The BFG, Matilda, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, etc. But today, I am here to describe just how genius he actually was with writing the BFG.
If you don't know already, The BFG is a story about the Big Friendly Giant, and dreams, and giants, and AMAZING MADE UP WORDS! So, I just feel the need to share these wonderful words with you wonderful people.
Gobblefunk: Confusing and messing up the meaning of words. I think the word he is looking for is Malapropism, which I think I went over earlier in the year.
Swizzfiggling: The act of Teasing. I guess the BFG was Swizzfiggled quite a bit about his ears. I actually forget a lot of this story, which kinda makes me sad.
Replusant: Something extraordinarily wonderful, outstanding, and excellent. I think that's kinda odd, because it looks a lot like repulsive, which would be the antonym of Replusant.
Frobscottle: A Drink, loved by the Giants in this novel.
Whizpopper: Fun fact. A Whizpopper, at least in the world of the BFG, is a buuuuurrrrrp. 
Snozzling: Ah, yes. Snozzling. It's my favorite pastime. Or, as you non-giants know it as, Sleeping.
Zozimus: Zozimus is the material that dreams are made of, a material very precious to the characters in the book.
Flushbunking: And, finally, we have Flushbunking, or, in layman's terms, being in a hurry.

Now, if you don't mind, I have to flushbunk and study for the SAT. Which is why this post isn't as long as others.

Bye.

Source

Lemme tell you a little story about Vernorexia...

I love Spring. It's my favorite season. All the trees are becoming green again. Flowers are blooming. Birds actually use the birdhouses. Everyone is getting in a relationship. The world no longer looks bleak and bo-- Wait. Back up. "Everyone is getting in a relationship." Is this because of Spring? Is it coincidence? Nah. It couldn't be. There's something about Spring that gets couples all lovey-dovey. And that, dear friend, is called Vernorexia.

"Vernorexia?  wHaT's ThAt?" I can hear you asking through this screen.
I actually just explained it. If you're having trouble comprehending that:
Vernorexia is a Romantic Mood inspired by the Spring and warm weather and, oddly enough, the color Green.  (Green M&M's, anyone?)

It's actually a great word. Vernorexia comes from Latin, along with a Latinized form of Greek.  Vern- comes from the Latin "Vernus", meaning Spring, or In the Spring. -Exia comes from the kind-of-Latin-kind-of-Greek root "Exien", which means "To be in a condition."
So, I guess, technically, Vernorexia means "A condition caused by Spring", which could be interpreted then as Allergies. Therefore, Lovey-Dovey is the same as Allergies. Science.
 By the way, another word for Vernorexia is Vernalagnia.

Slang Victorian-Era language, thanks to Mental_Floss

I would like to thank Mental_Floss, specifically Erin McCarthey and Andrew Forrester. In 1909, Andrew Forrester, under the fake name James Ware, took note of so incredibly many slang words from the 1870's.  And thanks to some of these words that are totally bang up to the elephant*, they might totally make you fifteen-puzzled**. But please, if you don't understand any of these and get frustrated with me, do not shake a flannin with me.***
I really like these phrases. I mean...

• For example, did you know that a rain napper is a totally so-much-better way to say umbrella?
• I can guarantee you that people use their Sauce-Box every day.  And, you ask, what is a sauce-box? Well, it's your mouth, of course!
• You'd be making a stuffed bird laugh if you didn't know that this phrase meant something absolutely absurd.
• Some say that I, Josh, have a gigglemug. That's right. I have a face that smiles out of habit.
• Well, damfino what this word means. I lied. I actually do know that this means. It's a pretty convenient contraction for damned if I know.
• I know some of the "jammiest bits of jam". Don't you guys agree that I go to school with "the prettiest, most perfect young women".

I'm sorry if these wonderful phrases made you get the morbs, rather, made you temporarily sad and melancholy, but I just find them so wonderful and exciting and it just makes me happy and they are so lovely and please don't mind this run-on sentence, but I just love words and these phrases make me so happy and I love it  because they are lovely things.

*Perfect and complete

**Complete, utter confusion

***Oh my goodness, I have to use this phrase more with people.  Unfortunately, I am not one who likes to fight.

What in the universe is a Kakistocracy?

One of my favorite literary pieces of all time comes, oddly enough, from Douglas Adams. I guess that's not odd at all, if you know me. Perfectly normal.
The entire chapter, my favorite thing ever, perfectly describes a Kakistocracy.
From Chapter 28, Restaurant at the End of the Universe:

Simply put, a Kakistocracy is a government that has a ruler who is least qualified.  << see America, 2001-2009>> (Sorry. I just don't like how he pronounced words. Nookyular.)

Anyway. The word Kakistocracy comes from κακός, (kakos), meaning bad, or worst.  And then it also, obviously comes from -cracy, meaning government. I think. Fun fact. κακός also gives us the word kaka,  rather, defecation.

One of the earlier uses of Kakistocracy comes from James Lowell, who said "Is ours a “government of the people, by the people, for the people,” or a Kakistocracy, rather for the benefit of knaves at the cost of fools?"

I also have one more example here, which is kind of a half Kakistocracy: (And this is actually happening. I sadly did not make this up.)

Quarinkates

Hey, fun word this week. Quarinkates.  (I've done my research, and I believe it rhymes with Socrates, instead of mates.)

So Quarinkates:
Mom: "Prison cells where people are quarantined."
Dad: "People that have been put into quarantine."
Jess: "The oddities of a dead person."
Kevin: "A large group of camels."
Kimmy: "Information not available at this time."

So, they were all pretty far off. Quarinkates are those shivers that you get when music is really good, a show is really intense, or you are crying and just shake uncontrollably. So I guess that they are something related to strong emotions. (Joy, Worry, or Sadness.)

The word Quarinkates was actually relatively recently created, within the past couple of years. Coined by a Californian, in fact.  Jared Bates has created several words that made it into the Oxford dictionary, including Phablet, a combination of Phone and Tablet. Weird!
Honestly, I have no idea how he came up with Quarinkates. I... I don't even know...
Does Quari- come from the same root as Quality? I actually just looked it up. Quari- means "What kind of a..." So I guess that is a "What kind of a feeling"? Something like that.

I mean, when there's a recently invented word, there's never much info. I actually had to dig around on the internet to find this, and some of the background behind Quarinkates. I really wanted to do this word, because I love the spelling of it, and I think it's something we all relate to.

Yeah.

Aubade, CFR, Acosmist

Hey. There are more words here this week. Aubade, CFR, and Acosmist.

 Aubade: Kimmy: A fruit native to South Africa
               Mom: Someone who punishes slaves
               Jessie: The crash of waves on the shore
               Dad:  The only word I can think of with aub- in it is Auburn...
               Kevin:  A type of fish with teeth that look like a human's. A smiling fish.
Contrastive Focus Reduplication: Kimmy: When people get in line and look at their phones, then when they look up at their phones, they see they are going the wrong way.
                                           Mom: Taking a second look at something.
                                           Jessie: A mix up of your brain's ability to focus in different situation
                                           Dad:  A redundant word. (So Close!)
                                           Kevin:  Hmm. The experience in Transcendentalism when your brain is 50 years old.
Acosmist: Kimmy: A person who gives really good hugs.
                  Mom: Someone who is not of this universe
                  Jessie: Someone who has experienced the space and stars and the moon and asteroids and planets and meteors and meteorites and meteoroids and black holes and white holes.
                  Dad:  Someone who is a stargazer.
                  Kevin:  Someone who is on a really really really strict diet.

An Aubade , in contrast to its antonym, a serenade, is a song usually performed at dawn, just as morning is breaking. This is what I need in my life.  Music in the mornings... Anyway, the term Aubade has a few origins, but are all directly correlated. The Occitan (Old French) roots aubada and auba both mean dawn, but the term Aubade also comes from the Latin -alba, which is a (vulgar) term for Woman. Literally, Aubade means "A song performed at dawn to a sleeping woman."
I just found out, while researching this word, that it is actually supposed to be about 2 lovers parting at dawn. So that's kind of sad.

Contrastive Focus Reduplication: I'm really glad I'm able to do this word. It doesn't have much information, but it's something that we can all relate to. CFR is  whenever you repeat a word for emphasis. Think of the common Elementary School Phrase, "Do you like her, or do you like-like her?" Or, just think of Drake and Josh. Thank you, Josh Nichols, for teaching us all about emphasis and CFR. This term has also been called "The Word-Word" and "Lexical Cloning," which is so much better.

Ah, yes. Josh Nichols was the epitome
of Contrastive Focus Reduplication.

Finally, an Acosmist is someone who doesn't believe in anything. Nothing. At all.  No religion, no science, no magic, and no miracles. *Laaaaaaaame* They don't even believe in the Universe. They "believe" that we are all just illusions. Acosmism is a philosophy, and it sounds like a pretty boring (yet intriguing) one. The main reasoning behind it is that there is one Absolute, and it is infinite.

Sorry, I didn't have very good words with large backgrounds. I'm going to try and be detailed in the coming weeks. But, I'm running low on words...

Yeah.

Aureate, Lethologica, and Parlian

Yo. If this is your first time reading my blog... I feel bad for you. It's a great blog. It's all about words. Every so often, I will ask my family members what they think certain words mean, like what I did this week. And yeah. This blog is all about words, mainly ones you probably didn't know existed, or words that you may find useful in the future, like the feeling of Lethologica.  Sometimes, I will go to detail behind the word, and sometimes, I will just give a quick definition.
(I suggest, if ye be interested, that ye look at a lot of me other words.  <<end pirate accent>>)

My words for this week are Aureate, Lethologica, and Parlian:
Aureate: Kimmy: Something is emanating from someones personality. 
                  Mom: To turn golden, or to make sound
                  Jessie: To misinterpret a word because of hearing it wrong.
                  Dad: To speak in the pompitous of love, to tell a story
Lethologica: Kimmy: Nonsense
                       Mom: The process of falling asleep.
                       Jessie: A disorder caused by stress and homework at Ghidotti
                       Dad:  An incorrect approach to solve a physics problem.

Paralian: Kimmy: A person who got made fun of in their youth and is still insecure.

                 Mom:  Someone who walks by your side.
                 Jessie: Someone who is part of Parliament (;
                 Dad: A person who has citizenship in multiple countries.

Aureate: There are two definitions to this word, and one of them, I just love. And I get the feeling a certain English teacher will love it too. The first meaning of Aureate means 'Of a golden color or brilliance." I mean, it's pretty interesting. Obviously, that comes from the Latin root Aurus- , meaning "Gold."  But this second one... The best possible definition of this word means "Pertaining to the fancy or flowery words used by poets, marked by grandiloquent style." I DON'T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND HOW GREAT THIS IS. This is the exact word I've been looking for. Words are my passion. I love them. And then I stumble upon this word that literally describes everything I need. Aureate can describe poems, novels, magazine articles, and even blog posts. The definition is even an Aureate one definition! (Grandiloquent‽‽‽*)

Lethologica: Believe it or not, this is not the first time I have gotten a word that I believe everyone experiences, but is an actual disorder.  (See Dysania)  Lethologica comes from the terms Lethe-, meaning "Forgetfulness", and -Logo, meaning "Word."  The word Lethologica is a fine word to know, because it represents when you can't... uh... I forget the word! It's on the tip of my tongue! I know it! AH! When you can't remember a word, you experience Lethologica. But, as I stated before, it is an actual, clinical disorder, identified by the Swiss Psychiatrist Carl Jung.  In 1913, his book The Psychology of the Unconscious stated that "9 out of 10 Westerners will experience some form of Lethologica at some point in their life." This can be brought upon by stress, anxiety, or just uncomfortable situations. So, if you ever see me presenting something, and I stand there thinking of the right word, I am incredibly uncomfortable.  Lethologica should not be confused with the word Aphasia, which means speechlessness.

Paralian: I've searched everywhere for the etymology of this word. I found out that Para- comes from the Greek root, meaning "Alongside, beside", (Like in parallel). Anyway, A Paralian is someone who lives by the ocean/on the coast. My grandparents are Paralians, along with my sister and brother. This should not be confused with the incredibly similar Paralalia, which is an accidental sound. (One not meant to be made, like from a speech impediment.)

*For those of you just joining me, a ‽ is called an Interrobang, and is a combination of ? and !

Sesquipedalian, Eggcorn, and Denominalisation

So, uh... 3 words this weeks. They're words with relatively short backstories, so I figured I should give a few.

A Sesquipedalian has two meanings.  One of the meanings can be applied to about 75% of the words I have so endearingly taught you, because it means "A long word, a word with many syllables."  I really like this definition, because it comes from the Latin word, sesquipedalis, which means "A foot and a half, 18 inches." So basically, a word that is Sesquipedalian is 18 inches long.  The other meaning of Sesquipedalian is, simply, one who likes long words.  A good example of this is Josh.  Josh is a Sesquipedalian who likes Sesquipedalian words.

Eggcorn. This word, coming to me from one of my friends, and is a real word, sounds a lot like acorn, right? Oddly enough, that's how it got its name. Because it sounds like another word.  Eggcorn is a typo that makes sense, though the wrong word was used.  For example, if someone is hitting on you, they are also hotting on you. (This happened to me a few weeks ago... The typo, not the being hit on. When does that ever happen?)  Anyways, Eggcorns are a lot like other sesquipedalian words, like Mondegreen, (A misheard lyric in a song), and Malapropisms. (Using words incorrectly, because they sound alike.)  My favorite example of a mondegreen is "Sunday Monkey Won't Play Piano Song.*"  A malapropism is something like "He put out the fire with a fire distinguisher." It's basically an Eggcorn, but auditory.

I must admit, I find myself Denominalising words a lot.  Denominalisation is "Using a word that is a noun as a verb." I really only use this when talking about the computer. "Yeah. I Facebooked for only about 5 hours today.  "New Record: Low!"

I'll probably do a few words next week, but I'm not sure what all of them will be. But I know for a fact that one will be Lethologica.

*I will give you extra points if you can name the song this actually is, without looking it up.

More Words for Singles' Awareness Day...

So, as a continuation of last week's blog... I give you more words to use on your significant other this "Fake Attention and Friends" Day:
    Forelske: A Danish word, meaning To Fall in Love. I love how it's a single word, as opposed to English, where we need 4 words to get the point across.  (I forelskede (past tense) with food a few days ago.)
     This next really wonderful word comes from the Hindi Language.  Jaaneman (जानेमन) is a gender-neutral word that is the equivalent of Honey, or Sweetheart. It's a term of endearment that literally means "Soul of Me," rather, Soulmate.
     Everybody knows that French is an incredibly romantic language. And that's pretty much proven in the phrase, la douleur exquise, literally, the Loving Pain. And that's basically what it means. "The Heart-wrenching pain of wanting the affection of someone unobtainable."
     The Yiddish language gives us the word b'shert:

    So, the Portuguese have this whole Love thing down. Saudade, which literally translates to yearning, is given a much deeper meaning. Used in context correctly, it can mean "A nostolgic feeling of wanting someone who has gone and lost. A love that remains."  I think America needs to get their act together when it comes to romantic words.

   I don't know where this word comes from, but to Mimp is to talk affectionately, or to purse the lips.

And, just to relate to anyone lonely this Friday:

    A Boreist is someone who could make you fall asleep on a first date. Someone really boring. Going on and on and on and on about their lives. Never going into detail. Not forming full sentances. People who spell "sentences" wrong.  People that resemble this definition.
     Accismus is when you pretend to not be interested in something or someone, when really, you can't imagine a life without them in it.
     And, many lonely people will be Heimgangers on Friday night. Yes. They are the people that stay sitting at home.

OKAY. SO I FOUND THIS WORD. IT'S COMPLETELY UNRELATED TO THIS WHOLE SUBJECT, BUT I WANT TO SHARE THE SHORT DEFINITION WITH YOU.
 To Quagswag (Which is really the best part of the word...) something means you shake it back and forth.


So, enjoy your Forced Romance Day. I wish you many good Red Paper Crap days in the future.
I'd like to thank this site right here: Valentine's Day Alternatives, along with other-worldly.tumblr.com

Some Lovely Words for Singles Awareness Month

In celebration of Valentine's Day next week, I figure that both this and next blog posts should revolve around love words.  Because I can.
So, here are a few words you can use on your significant other on the Artificial Holiday with very strong commercial overtones:

Koinoyokan, sometimes Koi No Yokan, is a Japanese phrase with no literal English translation, but I really wish there was.  It translates directly to Feeling of Love, but I think Japan has it stated in a better way. Koinoyokan is that sense inside you that, when you meet someone knew, you perhaps will fall in love with them uncontrollably. And I think that's deserving of putting in this blog.
Sphallolalia is a word that I think we can all relate to at some point or another. "σφάλλω", in Greek, means to stumble or trip up, and λαλιά means "To talk". So, sphallolalia is a flirtatious talk that leads nowhere.  <<See: 85% of Men in Bars>>

Twitterpated was a word first used in the Disney movie Bambi, simply meaning "Love-struck." "Nearly everybody gets twitterpated in the springtime. For example, you're walking along minding your own business, you're looking neither to the left, nor to the right, when all of the sudden, you run smack into a pretty face." -The Owl from Bambi

And just some quick definitions:
Redamancy, an English word, gives a "return-the-favor" meaning, actually, Loving back the one that loves you.  Can we start using this one more often?
Forelsket is a Norwegian word, describing the jubilant, euphoric feeling that you get when falling in love.
Cafune is a Brazilian word for running your fingers through your lover's hair. Man, Brazilians are smooth...

Floccinaucinihilipilification! (Flock-i-now-sini-heeli-pili-fication)

This weeks word is really hard to pronounce, and I will probably never use it in conversation, because it is so long.  This word is Floccinaucinihilipilification. and, though difficult, is incredibly fun to say. Try it.
When I asked other people in the general vicinity what they thought it means:
Mom: The act of Plucking out eyebrows
Dad:
Jessie:  Shaving a poodle

So, Floccinaucinihilipilification actually is a word that means "The estimation of something as worthless." So, if you thought that all the letters in this word are pointless, then you are Floccinaucinihilipilificating it. I know. It's weird.

The word Floccinaucinihilipilification is relatively new, from a few years ago.  Some students from Eton College, in England, created the word as a joke, and as an autological word. An autological word is a word that means exactly what it describes. ("Noun" is a noun, the word "short" is a short word.) So, all the letters in Floccinaucinihilipilification are worthless, unneeded, and pointless.

As previously stated, the word originated in Eton College. Students created the word, mainly just because they could. They took a phrase from the Eton Latin Grammar book, which read "Flocci, nauci, nihili, pili, assis, hujus, teruncii, his verbis, aestimo, pendo, facio, peculiariter adduntur.*" They added on -fication to the end, and entered it into the dictionary!

To use it in a sentence:
"He Floccinaucinihilipilificated my art and took it out of the museum, even though it was made from bottle caps, cans, and locks of hair!"


*According to Google, this means "Tuft, of no account, of no account, the hair, halfpenny, of this, at a farthing, in these words, I imagine, to value, I do, that are added to a particular way to"