Words

I just used the word "louche" properly in a sentence.  (Not here - I was writing emails, of course.  To people who respond.)

Here's what happens to me, and forgive me if this is too self-congratulatory - I'm writing along, and a word will come to me, a complex, juicy, enjoyable word, like "louche"* or "inimitable", and it feels fantastic, it feels like exactly the right word, but an unusual word, there's special thrill in it, like having a sandwich with grainy artisan-y bread instead of just slabs of generic wheat.  But then I can never trust the word initially, I nearly always think, hang on, you don't use that word a lot, you'd better check to see if it means what you think it means (and if you are spelling it correctly). You'd better mean what you think you mean.

And here's the best part, the self-congratulatory part: it nearly always does.  The word aligns.  Every time I can remember, I look that word up and think, yep, that is exactly what I wanted to say.  And that, that is...delightful.

Now, I don't go looking for wildly unique words.  I don't try to shoehorn them into conversation (ok, I rarely try to shoehorn them into conversation, mostly because in conversation I can't look the word up and make sure it's really saying what I want to say, and I am guaranteed to mispronounce it).  But when one comes to me and means what I thought it meant, it feels...it feels like having a wild bird eat from your hand.  Like finding the perfect fitting coat in a resale shop for $10.  Like getting a really excellent haircut.

(*I just went looking for something else and found the OED's word of the day for Oct 21 was louche!! Word of honor, I don't follow the OED WOD; the word louche came to me unbidden, out of the mists of memory, probably memory of descriptions of Byron, not from that source.  I've no way to prove it, but it's so.)