I learned how to talk when I was just a few months old. My first word? “More.” As in, more milk, more Cheerios, more smushed banana pieces on my highchair tray. (Apparently, I also accompanied my cries of “more, more, more!” with a pleading look while waving my hands in the direction of the refrigerator. Also, apparently when said refrigerator was opened, I was known to clap.)
After that first word I quickly began talking in full sentences. (Another story my parents like to tell is the time when, at the ripe old age of two, I looked the waitress at Marie Callenders square in the face and ordered a slice of peach pie for dinner. My mother swears she had never even mentioned it near me, let alone served it to me, and thus has no idea where I learned what peach pie was.)
It was only natural that after learning how to talk, I also taught myself how to read. And from reading came writing, and I don’t think I’ve ever stopped - talking, reading, writing, communicating in any way I could. (Perhaps this also explains my deep love for Facebook?)
I tell you all this to explain something about me: I love words.This week, I learned a new word, and was so excited that I tweeted about it. Does that make me a dork? The word is indicia - do you know what that is? An indicia is a little mark or box on a piece of mailed communication that shows that the postage costs have been paid by the sender.
I had no idea there was a word for such a thing, but now I do, and you can bet I’ll never forget it. That’s because I once read something in a book that said if you use a new word three times, it becomes your friend for life, meaning you will never forget it and will always remember what it means. (God, I am really exposing my dorkiness today, aren’t I?)
Anywho. I like that sentiment, because for a writer, there’s nothing more important than respecting and emphasizing the importance of words. Which is also probably why I am so utterly in love with this:
That, my friends, is an electric pink crocodile embossed leather thesaurus. And you can bet your ass I am freaking out about it. There’s also a matching pink leather dictionary that needs to come live in my house with me as well. I am literally swooning over these two - talk about being a dork!
I can think of nothing as essential for a writer to have. And if they happen to come in hot pink and look gorgeous displayed on her desk, well, why not?
Surely something so chic can’t be all that dorky!