effusive\ih-FYOO-siv\
 
adjective
 
1 :
marked by the expression of great or excessive emotion or enthusiasm 
2 :
archaic : pouring freely 
3 :
characterized or formed by a nonexplosive outpouring of lava
 
Lila’s history teacher wrote an effusive letter of recommendation.
 
“It’s never easy for opponents from the opposite party to find specific praise at library unveilings, but Carter was effusive. ‘Mr. President, let me say that I’m filled with admiration for you and deep gratitude for you about the great contributions you’ve made to the most needy people on Earth,’ said the 39th president.” — From an article by John Dickerson on Slate.com, July 2, 2013.

We’ve used “effusive” in English to describe excessive outpourings since the 17th century. In the 1800s, geologists adopted the specific sense related to flowing lava—or to hardened rock formed from flowing lava. “Effusive” can be traced to the Latin verb “effundere” (“to pour out”), which itself comes from “fundere” (“to pour”) plus a modification of the prefix “ex-” (“out”). Our verb “effuse” has the same Latin ancestors. A person effuses when he or she speaks effusively. Liquids can effuse as well (as in “water effusing from a pipe”).

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I want to runaway with Barry.

footle\FOO-tul\
verb
 
1 :
to talk or act foolishly
 
2 :
to waste time : trifle, fool
 
“La Queue exclaimed that they were just being lazy and footling about.” — From Douglas Parmée’s 1984 translation of Émile Zola’s story “Coqueville on the Spree” (originally published in 1907)
 
“Well, we could not possibly intervene ourselves. We are far too busy footling about online, bemoaning how the country has gone to the dogs.” — From an article by Will Batchelor in the Liverpool Post (United Kingdom), March 14, 2013
 
“Footle” may be an alteration of “footer,” which an 1847 dictionary of archaic and provincial words says is a verb meaning “to idle.” That word is connected with “fouter” (also spelled “foutra”), a word describing something of little value or someone worthless or bungling. But the link between “footle” and “footer” is speculative. What we can say with confidence is that “footle” is a verb of 19th century origin that—along with the adjective “footling” (as in “a footling amateur”)—is still apt when discussing foolish or trifling people or things.

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Why won’t my headache go away?

Plan an escape with someone special!

Yesterday, I woke up not feeling right. As the day progressed, my head began to hurt worse.Through through the day, the pain only got worse. I took a round of my assorted medications attempting to gain some relief.

I gained a tiny reprieve from the pain in my head. By the time we headed home from church, the pain was back, full force. I just felt awful. By this time, nausea had creeped into the mix. Once home, Barry checked my blood pressure, loaded me up with more drugs and put me to bed.

The next morning, when I woke up, my eyes did not want to open. Mom had a house full of company coming by 10:30. Last I heard, it was to be her sisters only.

By the time everyone arrived, we had a total of nine guests and two toddlers. I loved seeing everyone of them and would not change the day for anything. I enjoyed the visit, with my brain tumor acting a fool and driving my head past pain. I tried to focus on the postive and visualize the pain away.

Hear we are again, close to bedtime. My head feels like it is about to blow a gasket and I refused supper. Didn’t think it was a good idea. I’m about to turn the lights down low and attempt closing my eyes. I have a lot to do tomorrow, so I hope I wake up feeling like myself.

Too much going on in my life to get sick now. I need to wake up well-rested and ready to get busy. I will saybthis, at least my brain tumor headaches are getting fewer and farther apart. I thank the good Lord for that! Hope everyone hs a great night! More tomorrow.

When was the last time your walked away from a discussion, only to think of The Perfect Comeback hours later? Recreate the scene for us, and use your winning line.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us HEATED.

I think I have been the slow comeback queen my entire life. Every single time I come up with a good comeback, it is always at least 20 minutes later. I’ve never been known for my quick mouth or brain. Brain surgery managed to only slow my head down a bit.

I recall an incident in the seventh grade. We were at an assembly and they asked for a group of girl’s to come out on the gym floor. I quickly ran out to volunteer.

The person leading the assembly started talking to the group and to my suprise the assembly was about birth defects. He stated “one of these young ladies will have a child with birth defects.” It will be because of the poor choices she will make as she gets older.

A stupid boy in my class, yells out at that moment. Watch it be Jill Hayes, she would be the poor choice in that group. She’d be the one to to have deformed children.

I knew exactly who said it. He said it loud enough for the entire gym to hear it. I was mortified. As we were leaving the gym, I came face to face eith him and could not come up eith a thing to say. I was still s embarassed I froze, I felt like hitiing him, but what would that solve. I still could not come up with a thing to say.

I ran into him again at lunch, by this time I had all morning to think about it. Esponding to his ignorance would only bring me down to his level. I decided to take the high road and just ignore him all together. He was just a stupid boy trying to act out. Why should I respond? We’ll grow up and never see each other again. I left it at that.

In the lunch room, I smiled, looked him dead in the eye and wished him a nice day. Mouth open, he just stared at me, as I walked away. I told him he might want close his mouth, he might catch a fly. When I looked back, he continued staring after me. I could never bring myself to like this guy very much, that day always stuck with me.

Kids can be so mean!