As an unwritten rule, I tend to think New Year’s resolutions are a real hack. Gym memberships double, booze sales plummet, and bills are paid on time … until the world cozies back into its former ways. If I want to do something, it happens regardless of time or placement on my “cats in hats” calendar.* Last year (which really means three-ish weeks ago), when guacamole sounded good, I just made it. No celebratory to-do needed. When my socks run out, I wash them, no social pressure or anything. Supply meets demand.
Perhaps I’ve never made a resolution because a need and date have never coincided. Or maybe it was stage fright, which seems to occur more often during things that are lame. This year, however, the dry streak ends. My “resolution” has come and it’s happening real hard.
My goal? Vocabulary. There are billions of old-timey, knee-smacking-ly good words, and I’m growing tired of not using them. Why can’t I call irresponsible women floozies? Why don’t I talk about the persnickety government over a nightcap? And when will velvet capes be sold with a matching monocle? There’s some things worth giving a second chance, and I’d like to be the decider of said list.
1) I tire of using the same words over and again. Things can only be so “awesome,” “enjoyable,” and “bitchin’” before they become plain annoying. Where’s my self-creativity? Who do I think I am, a reporter?
2) Word of the day calendars are overwhelming. Either terms are chose that fall on the above list (like advert), or it’s an ambiguous term I can’t pronounce. (No, Webster, your talking computer doesn’t help.) Besides, my coworker is a dog/cat – depending where my gypsy lifestyle may take me – and they rarely offer insight on my ability to cram jentacular or qualtagh into sentences.
The gongoozlers are not impressed by my witzelsuchting.
- jentacular: pertaining to breakfast
- qualtagh: the first person you see after leaving your house, especially on New Year’s Day
- gongoozler: an idle spectator
- witzelsucht: a feeble attempt at humor
3) My friend Wonderwall gave me a throwback book, Let’s Bring Back, for Christmas. A real wisecrack, the book outlines wonderful things that have been phased out of modern society. It also has a built-in ribbon bookmark.
“Poison – There used to be a real art to poisoning; a veritable industry of blackhearted [sic] apothecaries and witch doctors languished when it went out of fashion.”
“Town Criers – the original Google alert.”
To these, and probably other reasons, ye scallywags have centuries worth of terms to help me explore. Secure your bootstraps; we’ve got 12 months and counting.
*Thanks Mom and Dad
wordsmith photo courtesy of Sean McCabe