Melbourne, Australia

I love the words that fall between the cracks. / I write with black coffee, and bare feet. / Both seem to help.


Do you ever enjoy your job so much that you feel guilty getting paid?

I feel so damn lucky that I get to play with words all day. Sometimes, I catch sight of myself in a Collins Street shop window, stilettos and briefcase full of books, hair piled up and black secretary glasses, and think “I have a PAID reason to dance through dictionaries… is SWEET!”

Today in class I fell in love with collective nouns…..the words for a group of animals. Did you know these terms?
a glaring of cats
a smack of jellyfish
an exaltation of larks
a quiver of cobras
a storytelling of ravens
and my personal favourite….a murder of crows

Or how about the charming practicality of Tok Pisin in Papua New Guinea?
I laughed my arse off about the word for beard – try not to smile at mausgras explained as “mouth grass.” There was a rumour in my Linguistics class that the Tok Pisin word for helicopter was mixmaster bilong jesus. Say it out loud and try not to snort coffee out your nose when you understand.

Finally, we discussed phobias, so of course I did some research as to the weird and wonderful range out there, but when I came to anatidaephobia I almost had to be resuscitated – I laughed so hard I frightened small children and think I cracked a rib (mine, not theirs).

The fear that somewhere, somehow….a duck is watching you.

What a GLORIOUS way to earn a living!

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