\ AK-tuh \noun;
1. Official records, as of acts, deeds, proceedings, transactions, or the like.
Official acta for Elizabeth “Eli” “Beth” “Boss Momma” on 10.06.10
8:59 am.  Clock in for work.
9:00 am.   Walk 12 steps to the coffee pot.  Organic  Sumatra with 2 creamers.
9:02 am.  Check email for official business.  Only see the Word of the Day and an invitation to study Criminal Justice at Virginia College in South Carolina. 
9:05 am.  Chit Chat with my office suitemate. 
9:10 am.  Coffee refill.
9:15 am.  Sign making, printing, passing out.
11:02 am.  Pick up 3 bright red leaves to tape on my computer.
1:00 pm.  Buffalo Chicken Wrap I’ve been waiting 2 years for.  Meet some folks to add to my marketing audience. 
2:00 pm.  Coffee. 
2:02 pm.  Banners.  Order.  Confirm.  Banter with my office roommate.  My officemate.
5:30 pm.  Back to the cozy room.  Can hear every note practiced at the theatre for the big Chicago show.  And all that jazz.
6:00 pm.  Dance to Chicago and unpack.
9:00 pm.  Write out my official acta.


TEEM \ ,verb;
1. To abound or swarm; be prolific or fertile.
2. To empty or pour out; discharge.
The two different definitions for teem seem contradictory to me.  To abound and yet to empty.  I shall carry on and bring you my thoughts teem with confidence and insight, at the same time that I teem the confusion of the contradiction.  Are you confused?  As am I. 
 My new apartment is teeming with quaint character.  In my poor young adult life, I have found that I am easy to please when it comes to housing situations.  I don’t mind tacky wallpaper as long as it…well, nothing else, I just don’t mind it.  I like small appliances and small bathrooms because I am small.  Give me a window and I feel like I will be inspired to write eloquently and play the piano better than I could in a dark windowless room.  This quaint apartment has four gigantic 7-feet-tall windows.  Teeming with light.  Teeming with inspiration.
Bring on the flowery pastel wallpaper that is peeling off, I will embrace it as my own.  


NIM-fuh-lep-see \noun;
1. A frenzy of emotion, as for something unattainable.
2. An ecstasy supposed by the ancients to be inspired by nymphs.

My life has been full of nympholepsy.  I think it started when I had this strong feeling in my soul that I would become the first girl to ever play Major League Baseball.  It was a frenzy of a goal that I then thought was very attainable, because my coach called me the “Golden Glove.”  Wouldn’t any MLB team want a golden glove regardless of the pony tail coming out of the hat?  I thought so.  The frenzy of emotion faded when I started playing ball every weekend and every weekday and it paid a drastic toll on my social life.
Then the nympholepsy became my frenzy of emotion to fall in love and dance on the beach and climb the highest trees with a handsome fella and then get married and climb shorter trees with our kids.
That frenzy of emotion fell through when I realized I was relationally dysfunctional.
Too bad nympholepsy by default, is something wonderful and out there that you would love to obtain, and not something mediocre that will most likely happen. 


FOS-ik \verb;
1. To search for any object by which to make gain.
2.Mining.  To undermine another’s digging; search for waste gold in relinquished workings, washingplaces, etc.
3. To hunt; seek; ferret out.

“Sweet Benjamin, necessity is upon us, darling.  Please suit up and fossick for the pie.  Promptly.”  Interestingly enough, ‘fossick’ makes me think in a British accent and imagine a lifestyle full of afternoon tea and homemade tarts. 
“Lovey cakes, you do not fossick fast enough.  We mustn’t keep the guests waiting.  Shall I assist you in the fossicking?”
Or, I see several ragamuffin kids with holes in their jeans, searching aimlessly for a treasure map.  In my head they are barefoot like Peter Pan.  They have holey jeans and torn oversized t-shirts.  They are as darling as darling can be.  The excitedly expectant smile on their faces is contagious.  They have a dream of gaining treasure.  The fossicking will be part of the memorable journey.
Oh to be a British tea drinker or a barefoot treasure seeker.


\MUHS-i-teyt\, verb:

To silently move the lips in simulation of audible speech.
Today was homecoming on the quaint campus of Mars Hill College and we were surrounded by cool breezes, the smell of the baptist’s bbq, and a whole lot of mussitating.  The Lunsford festival is crowded, because it offers everything great that Madison County offers, all in one place.  Because of the countless alum scattered about, I saw him mussitate to her, then her mussitate back at him, then they met at the apple butter tent.
I feel as though this weekend was my literal ‘homecoming’, as I’m moving on campus as soon as the key is found.   I have a place right on the quad, so around 500 people were moseying around my front yard this afternoon.  I had a strange desire to put my robe on and come out with my coffee in hand and quacking, “Use the sidewalks!!  Have you no decency!”  This would not have been mussitated, but audibly quacked.  Maybe I will keep my cool, even though I’ll be the old hag amidst the young loud whippersnappers.


  \ ih-FAYS \  , transitive verb;
1. To cause to disappear by rubbing out, striking out, etc.; to erase; to render illegible or indiscernible.
2. To destroy, as a mental impression; to wipe out; to eliminate completely.
3. To make (oneself) inconspicuous.
Dear Employer,
We need to talk.
It’s not you.  It’s me.  This is just no longer working out. 
I can’t see you full time anymore.   Almost two years together, and you have sucked the life out of me.  I am no longer a patient or loving person, and I blame you for it.
Please don’t call or write.  When the time is right, I will come back
To use my 40% off coupon.
Thank you for taking this effacement easily.
Used to be yours,


RIG-muh-rohl \  , noun;
1. An elaborate or complicated procedure.
2. Confused, incoherent, foolish, or meaningless talk
When attempting to write ‘rigmarole’ in my phone, t9 suggested signarle, then rignapole.  This made me laugh harder than I had laughed all day, and that made me wonder about my sense of humor.
I’m starting work tomorrow in Mars Hill, NC but I do not have a place to live yet.  The whole rigmarole of finding the perfect place can be exhausting.  Ideally, it’d be close to work and climbing trees, it’d be furnished because I sold mine in a moment of quarterlife crisis, and there’d be a stable landlord.  My biggest problem is that I’m far from practical.  I saw a room for rent that was nice.  I’m willing to pay big bucks for ‘nice’ because of a lovely hanging swing on the porch.  I guess some would call that a porch swing.  I dreamingly looked at the porch as I pictured the relaxing afternoons sipping fresh squeezed lemonade, reading something thought provoking, then writing about those thoughts, all while swinging in the breeze.  Though if I sign the lease, I will have not money left over for the lemons to freshly squeeze them into lemonade.
Decisions, decisions.  Signarle, rignapole.  Rigmarole.

Here you'll find whimsical wonderments on's word of the day about traveling around the US and NZ, help exchange, meeting fascinating people, and now, my handsome polar bear, Pal.

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