Words

**DISCLAIMER** No dictionaries were utilized or (by extension) harmed in the creation of this post. While some mischievous metaphors may mix (alliteratively), participles may dangle and infinitives are quite often split, no serious lasting harm was inflicted on nouns, adjectives or verbs when avoidable. It's Gerund season, though, so no helping that. ;-) Creative license, however, is liberally applied. This implies, during certain moments, that strict rules of grammar may be thoughtfully sacrificed in favor of making the greater point or defining the bigger picture.

Today, I revel in the glorification of the English language. More specifically, I bask in the glow of the individual words that comprise the greater verbiage. Each syllable is a note in a musical composition, the initial verse sung for the auditory receiver with the delicacy of a tender, whispering kiss from a shy lover.

You have undoubtedly noticed, from my brief yet illustrative opening paragraph, that I have a fondness for stringing words together. I have been told by some, over time, that I have a measure of talent in this area. The final judgment is always delivered by the reader, of course, though the weight of the opinion must be measured against the relative etymological intelligence of said reader. One not having insight into the true sense of the words "penned" may have a skewed sense of understanding, thereby coloring their interpretation.

I have had lengthy discourse with those who share my fondness for vocabulary, though I might humbly state that few of my acquaintance can (or would want to) stand toe to toe... and less than one hand's count can surpass my usage. Granted, there are indefatigable numbers whose abilities far exceed my meager grasp... I simply do not have the pleasure of counting them among those with whom I am acquainted.

During these disquisitions, I am confronted with moments when my own edification is the focal point, as opposed to my enlightenment of others. I find these singular points in time significant, as I am ever eager to enjoy the absorption of a previously unused utterance. And, in the midst of one particular soliloquist's clever musings, I find my head oft-turned by his unique parlance.

There are multitudinous methods utilized to express thought through language, though I will only concentrate on the two most in opposition. Unlike present company, there are those for whom the niggardly approach to communication is most efficacious. Those misers only release a fraction of the beauty that could be enjoyed by employing our most beloved adjectives and adverbs. An occasional preposition is as flamboyant as they may attempt, and only when transition is required.

Then, there are those with whom I share a common bond. Those with a predisposition to verbosity, who love nothing more than the ceaseless combination of perception altering descriptives... the heightened sense and flavor of patois that nears orgiastic proportions when exhibited with unrivaled expertise. I am atingle at the very consideration of such a state.

For today, I will conclude my dissertation with heartfelt thanks if you have continued to imbibe my contemplation of vocabulary. Do not hesitate to provide comments in kind to express your own feeling on the subject. ;-)

Emotions

Welcome to my whine party. Want some cheese?

There are times when the phrase "emotional female" is far too accurate a description for me. I have been accused in my life of being cold, unfeeling, an Ice Queen, a Bitch, unyielding, invulnerable, unapproachable, uncaring, unemotional... and while I can be those things at times, most often it is simply a cover.

I actually wish that I was unfeeling. I tend to feel things TOO deeply, which is why the unfeeling mask comes down... to disguise vulnerability. I am "The Strong One". The Strong One is not allowed to crack, can't break, must maintain at all times. Being a mother, I also must maintain for my son. He has to have a strong example, to understand that when adversity hits, you can't just curl up and crumble... you have to face the problem and find away to deal with it... that's what we call survival.

In that scenario, one also finds that one must guard severely. Can't let someone get too close, because they might find that chip in the porcelain that allows them to get in and see the turmoil beneath the paint. Once that happens, well... it can all come pouring out. Who the heck wants to deal with THAT??? Hell, I don't!! That's why it's all so carefully locked away, thank you. But... what happens when it's all too close to the surface, and it starts to "leak" out? What do you do when something just hits you... a dream, a situation, an incident... that just makes it impossible to shield?

Well, when you're "The Strong One", people don't really hang out thinking that you NEED them to help. You've got it under CONTROL... it's all wrapped up with a tidy little bow, in order, in place, neatly categorized and labeled... right? Not so much... not all the time. And The Strong One can't ask.. can't stand there and yell HEEEEEELP!!! Nope.. that would be... "weak*. (Oh, I never said it was logical, did I???)

So, the last couple of days have been chipping at my porcelain. My emotions, normally so masterfully controlled, are right at the surface. I feel... raw. I'd like to be able to chalk it up to PMS, but that truly inconvenient time frame has passed and is not scheduled for the next arrival for a while yet. I suppose it's just the things I've been facing lately, building up to a boiling point... I'm not letting myself really deal with some of these feelings fully, because they're deeper than I want to admit (and I can't do anything to change them), or they are simply too overwhelming to handle in the time I have available and allotted for emotional meltdowns. *snort* Oh, I could go there... I could cry, scream, pound on the walls... throw a gloriously emotional tantrum that will turn my nose and eyes all red and puffy, give me a headache and make my son think his mom has finally gone completely 'round the bend...

...or I can move on to the next "thing" I have to do, put a patch on the chip and deal with it later, when I have no choice but to face the reality of love, loss, pain, fear, grief, anger... in the meantime shielding those poor unfortunates around me that have to actually speak to me on a daily basis from the truth... that "The Strong One" is a sham.

So, somebody tell me a freakin' joke or something to get me out of this funk, ok?? I hate days like this... they do come on occasion, and I'd really like to just get it over with and move on to the laughter. It's almost "the Lusty Month of May", and that sounds like a hell of a lot more fun. Shouldn't we be talking Lust instead of this deep crap? Sheesh, what's WRONG with this blogger that she can't lighten up for a dang second, huh???? :)