read the entire dictionary

Another Friday night

my cousin and I make the trek to the
local Big Y World Class Supermarket

for the sole reason of reading the Y section of the dictionary.

So we sat in the cafe section, drinking Icees (coughSICKENINGlySweet), and reading the Y’s, of which there were 6 pages. We each read 4 or 5 entries then switched turns. It only took an hour and a half?

There were a lot of Asian words, again. Like places, mountains, people.

I think there were more exciting words in the Q section. But there were some good ones.

And, well, the next time I see someone I hadn’t seen in a while and I say “Wow, I haven’t seen you in years!” And they challenge me, I can refer them to definition three of the American Heritage dictionary, third college edition, word: years)- which states that years can be an indefinite amount of time (i.e. a long time)- I guess a hyperbole, no?

The decision to read the entire dictionary is one thing… finding the right tool for the job is another!!! I’m leaning towards Mr Webster but… Oxford seems a viable option as well! Any suggestions??

So we ended up reading the Q section.

It took a few hours.

For only 8 pages.

But she would read four entries, and then maybe comment on the words, and then I would read four more entries and we might start a discussion or ponder why there are so many definitions of the word “quarter” or why “question” needs so many abbreviations or why there are all these obscure words for foreign locations. Much of it was pretty dry.

But there were some gems that we enjoyed reading and that we may incorporate into our everyday vocabularies.

Like quintessential
quaff
quatrefoil
quixotic
quiz show
quash
quadrillionth

I talked to my little cousin last night, and we’ll be starting our dictionary-reading soon.

I have the Third College Edition of the American Heritage Dictionary and I’d like to read all of it eventually. We were trying to figure out where to start reading (because the A’s and Z’s seemed so boring), and we had an idea- Let’s start at the Q’s! And read it at this cafe we like called the Q! So we’ll be reading and trying to incorporate 8 pages of Q words into our vocabularies.

Cool beans, eh??

My little cousin said she’d like to read the dictionary with me.

Great!

I was thinking…. I’d like to do the One-Year-Plan [also known as the 26 step plan].

I just made it up. But it involves reading a Letter every two weeks. For example, First two weeks of September, read all entries that start with A. Last two weeks of September, read all entries that start with B. In that fashion it’ll take a year.

And I figure it’s okay if we use different dictionaries.

And we can get in touch every other week about progress and share favorite words and such.

Yes, I do believe that will work!

Woo! A plan!

Seeking a companion for this goal. Will start asking my friends. One of them has got to be interested! Who wouldn’t want to read the dictionary?!

However, I would like to appeal for help with a definition which I have begun to submit to a dictionary committee for includsion: jersey glove.

Here are my first notes on the topic, which are posted at a Collins Wordexchange bulletin board:

Posted: 25 Jan 2007 10:46 PM U.K. time

I haven’t in my memory heard or read the second definition, “2.a) a machine-knitted slightly elastic cloth of wool, silk, nylon, etc., used for clothing (b) (as modifier) a jersey suit; ” however, I recently came across an ad from a hardware supply company, including a photograph and item listing “jersey gloves.” (please see note 1. below)

I researched this a bit further, with the help of Judy, the young librarian at the Crystal Lake Libraryin McHenry County, Illinois. We did not come up with much of a definition, other than to find that you can find on the market jersey gloves with little raised dots of rubber for gripping; you can find lined jersey gloves for cold weather, you can even find jersey gloves with a gunn cut, whatever THAT is. (Help, friends, Britons, lexicographers!) So, I would like to find exactly HOW does one form or weave jersey cloth. What is it that makes the jersey cloth different, besides its elasticity? Does jersey cloth usually or always come in that chocolate brown colour? The jersey gloves I see in the ads are always brown.
Next: I contact hardware and department stores, the ones that sell men’s work clothing. I would appreciate any help in this area. Maybe we can have a team effort, eh, people? Ladies, gentlemen, boys and girls? Do any of you know where is jersey cloth manufactured today? Jersey? Elsewhere?

I even got a Japanese word for it, I think: kattoso, or (n) (abbr) clothes made from jersey cloth (lit: cut and sewn) from animelab.com.

1. r a photo and description of the lined glove, see this web-site: http://www.amazon.com/Midwest-Quality-Glove-Lined-Jersey/dp/B000DEN4K6)

has published the winning submissions to its yearly neologism contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for common words.

The winners are:

1. Coffee (n.), the person upon whom one coughs.

2. Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much
weight you have gained.

3. Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of ever
having a flat stomach.

4. Esplanade (v.), to attempt an explanation while
drunk.

5. Willy-nilly (adj.), impotent.

6. Negligent (adj.), describes a condition in which
you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightgown.

7. Lymph (v.), to walk with a lisp.

8. Gargoyle (n.), olive-flavored mouthwash.

9. Flatulence (n.) emergency vehicle that picks you
up after you are run over by a steamroller.

10. Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.

11. Testicle (n.), a humorous question on an exam.

12. Rectitude (n.), the formal, dignified bearing
adopted by proctologists.

13. Pokemon (n), a Rastafarian proctologist.

14. Oyster (n.), a person who sprinkles his
conversation with Yiddishisms.

15. Frisbeetarianism (n.), (back by popular
demand): The belief that, when you die, your soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.

16. Circumvent (n.), an opening in the front of
boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.
_~~~~~

The Washington Post’s Style Invitational also asked
readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition. Here are this year’s winners:

1. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid
people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.

2. Foreploy (v): Any misrepresentation about
yourself for the purpose of getting laid.

3. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house,
which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.

4. Giraffiti (n): Vandalism spray-painted very, very
high.

5. Sarchasm (n): The gulf between the author of
sarcastic wit and the person who doesn’t get it.

6. Inoculatte (v): To take coffee intravenously
when you are running late.

7. Hipatitis (n): Terminal coolness.

8. Osteopornosis (n): A degenerate disease. (This
one got extra credit.)

9. Karmageddon (n): It’s like, when everybody is
sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it’s like, a serious bummer.

10. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.

11. Glibido (v): All talk and no action.

12. Dopeler effect (n): The tendency of stupid ideas
to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly .

13. Arachnoleptic fit (n.): The frantic dance
performed just after you’ve accidentally walked through a spider web.

14. Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito
that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.

15. Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after
finding half a grub in the fruit you’re eating.

And the pick of the literature:

16. Ignoranus (n): A person who’s both stupid and an asshole!

A researcher into humour.

The word comes from Greek gelos, laughter. It’s a close relative of the adjective gelastic, either something funny or a remedy that works by making us laugh, no doubt on the principle of laughter being the best medicine (a gelotherapist builds on this idea by specialising in what is sometimes called laughter therapy). However, a gelastic seizure is a form of epilepsy that causes the sufferer to laugh. Geloscopy, an excessively rare word, is divination by means of laughter.

A gelotologist specialises in gelotology, the study of humour, laughter and the exercising of the gelastic muscles, a deeply serious exploration of what happens to our bodies’ physical systems, such as respiration and circulation, when we’re exposed to humour. The topic is as yet relatively specialised, though the word gelotology can be traced back at least as far as a widely syndicated report in US newspapers around April 1971 about the San Francisco Gelotology Institute. Its director, Dr William F Fry Jr, argued—in total opposition to current thinking—that laughter is actually very bad for you, because it increases the heart rate, interrupts normal breathing, and may contribute to hernias and ulcers.

An alternative spelling not infrequently seen is gelatologist. You may feel this sounds more like a maker of Italian ice creams, or possibly some arcane culinary specialist in the use of gelatine.

And I leave you with Queen Mab. Tinkerbell has a Queen Mab couch you know.

I’m going to buy myself a copy of the Collegiate Webster’s with a CD ROM. And I’m going to contact the publishers with suggestions, corrections, and additions.