Nerd love

Last night on the way over to my parents house for a hockey game and the first night of Hanukkah, my brother commented on a rather strange train of thought "I love the juxtaposition of loquacious and bombastic" and proceeded to refer to the OED. I paused, it was a brief pause. And all I could say before I launched in to a monologue about how much I love the irony of the word bombastic was "You have no idea how much nerd love I have for you right now for assuming I would know what you mean by referring to the OED". Trust me, I knew what he was referring. OED = Oxford English Dictionary. The OED schools the Merriam-Webster dictionary. The OED is a book of words. It's the story of every word in the English language. It's the end all of dictionaries.  And I want one. I would all but die for one. I've wanted one since I heard of it, and craved one since I've seen one and held volumes of it in my hand. Nothing quite replaces the feel of the soft leather binding, the gold trimmed onion skin paper, and knowledge of generations. Everyone who's met me or talked to me in December for the last five years -at least- knows that what I really want for Christmas is an OED. I doubt I'll own one for a long long time. You see the OED costs about $1,000. No matter how you dice that, it's the down payment on a car, a large chunk of student loans, or funds to buy a new wardrobe. It's hard to justify a thousand dollars on a dictionary. But, if you ever feel like you want to get me the best Christmas / Hanukkah present ever, drop a few bucks on a OED.

Happy Hanukkah guys. Believe me if the chicken my brother made is any indication, the Lord will be providing some awesome this year.