Travel & Lifestyle Freelance Writer | Market Research Consultant
I don’t know why I like the corn-syrup-and-artificial-flavoring-laden types of “maple syrup” better than the original stuff that comes straight from a tree trunk, but I’m of the opinion that it has more to do with flaws in my tastebuds than in my personhood … or at least that’s what I hope.
OK ladies and gents. According to Thesaurus.com, today’s Word Of the Day (WOD) is “darkle.”
Meaning: to grow dark, gloomy, etc.
Some suggested usages:
When the storm clouds rolled in and it began to darkle, I accidentally knocked over an old lady in my rush to get inside before the rain.
As his brow furrowed and lips pursed, I could tell that the poet’s mood had darkled.
“Damn!,” Horace exclaimed. “My white shirt darkled in the laundry when I washed it with a navy sweatshirt!”
Not that I’m exactly a pro or anything yet, but it’s in bad journalistic form to ask to interview someone who passed away three years ago … whoops.
I keep trying to convince my wonderful boyfriend that he’s a feminist simply because he believes that women and men deserve equal respect.
My hope though does occasionally waver … like when he describes the problems surrounding “gender rolls.”
I’m a graduate student working on her final project, her professional project, as it’s called, and I’m eating Super Mario Brothers fruitsnacks to give me energy … I don’t know if that’s sad, strange or suuuuuper awesome.
(Oh, and I’m not above complaining if I get too many yellows and oranges …)
Thanks for the well wishes for my moronic mishap. My hand is feeling fine.
Honestly, I’m struggling more with
1. Encouraging the band-aid to stay stuck on my palm, a creased and sweaty spot for anything to adhere to.
and
2. The tetanus shot the nurse discovered I needed, since my last puncture had been about 12 years ago. It feels like Hulk Hogan punched me in the shoulder. Jerk.
