We Interrupt This Blog For The All-Important WORD OF THE DAY!

What's life without a lot of interesting words and isn't it convenient that the English Language has so many fantastic choices?

Though English can't be categorized as one of the "romantic languages", I love it all the same. While it may not be as provocative as French, or as sensuous as Portuguese, I'd still stack our American Brand of English against just about every other contender save the French and those crazy Brazilians.

Maybe I'm just prejudice, but I love all of our choices, our regional accents and eccentricities and how lucky we are to share the same core of language within our vast country, yet still have the ability to infuse a bit of regional touches and tags. I'm not terribly fond of what I hear coming out of New Joisey, but the rest of New England, including the zany, loopy properties of a proper LooongIsland . It always makes me smile as do many natives of that tiny strip of island bearing the same name.

So I have decided to start 2006 with one of my most favorite websites - and it delivers...literally! Everyday in my E-mail box, I get an E-mail from "Dictionary.com" with, what else, The Word Of The Day! It's like a gift to start off my day with and even though I have seen or heard most of the offerings, I always learn new applications and derivations that I was completely unaware of. I make it a point to use it a few times, either in conversation or writing, and before you know it, I have a new word in my growing collection of words that I love to use and mostly understand.

Check it out - WORD OF THE DAY. By the end of the year, your vocabulary could be 365 words more powerful than it is right now. You can use all of these new words in proper context to impress your friends, dazzle your dogs, confuse your cats!

Oh, I have much to write, but I have to write for a while and it doesn't involve a blog. I have so much to share and I miss my blog - but I intend to uncover some discipline in the next few days and write of all of the events of the past few days - a complete overhaul and reorganization at work, my son's new pool table and how it may be impeding his search for a new job, trying to understand how one of my coworkers, in reading his bio, seems unable to write or spell past a third grade level and wondering how he's made it through life without knowing how to type or understanding the magic of spell check. I also need to write about our New Year's Eve in Charleston, South Carolina and why the Rutledge House Bed and Breakfast somehow lost a bit of its charm since the last time we stayed there...personally, I think it's Norm. Norm is about as people friendly and interesting as a very sour, dour, piece of cheese that even the French wouldn't find appealing. I want to write of the recent WV Mine Disaster and the rollercoaster ride those families rode as they waited to greet their family members following unexpected news of a rescue of survivors, only to have their hopes completely dashed, save for one. I want to write about what a classy gentleman Homer Hickam truly is and how proud he makes me feel to be a fellow West Virginian, even though most of the time I generally outright lie and pretend that I'm really from West Texas. Listening to Homer Hickam's wise commentary and observations throughout this horrible mine explosion debacle, has made me feel a sense of pride in being a mountaineer that I wouldn't have believed possible.

I want to write about what it feels like to be a mere week away from collecting my two year sobriety chip. I want to express how much it will mean to have my kids in attendance as I collect that blue plastic chip that looks so inconsequential but marks a two-year sea change in my sober, albeit small, life. I want to make my kids finally feel maybe a little proud to have me for their Mom - I'd settle for one-eighth of the pride I feel to have them as my children - my very grown-up children.

Mostly, I want to write. I simply want to write. My day job is impeding my inspiration and sometimes I feel as if my desire to focus on what I love doing best, waning and, along with it, any talent I might have once thought I possessed. I come home from work and I feel so completely spent and depleted that the last thing I want to do is spend time in front of my computer wondering exactly when my mind started evolving into mush. Years ago I used to believe it was continuous episodes of watching "Sesame Street" when I noticed one day that I turned the program on and my pre-school kids were out of the house. It never bothered me to find myself tuning into "Mister Rogers Neighborhood" on days the kids were involved in other activities because I always felt better for being in the presence of Fred Rogers. It was true when I was 12 and it's still true at the age of 45.

No, it wasn't "Sesame Street" that turned my mind to mush. Personally, I think it's either the CFC's that fly out with the hair spray, or maybe it's that smelly perm solution. I haven't truly pinned it down just yet. Maybe, I'm just tired. Maybe I need some hope. Maybe I am nursing some regrets - wistfully looking back on all the time I wasted when I could stay home and hone my craft and wishing I had the chance to do it all again.

I wonder if regret honestly serves any purpose with positive results? Should I be regretting that I sometimes have regrets?

Maybe I need to find something to hang onto that will allow me to believe that my present situation won't evolve into my "forever". I don't think it will, but there are days when I get a little scared. I'm human. It happens.

I could use some inspiration and, for as much as one can find on the Internet, I think inspiration is borne from other sources and most of them probably spring from within.

And yes, I want to write about spring. I need some spring.

Right now, I probably need some rest.

More later. There's so much more.