One of the things I love about words is that you can always discover more about them that makes you think a little deeper about their meaning - even those that you believe you already understand completely.

For example, someone told me today that he prefers wisdom to intelligence. I was intrigued to know what he meant and asked for clarification. This is what he said:

“I suppose intelligence would be the ability to solve complex problems. Then wisdom could be the realisation that there are better things to do with your life than trying to understand complex problems.”

I love that. It says to me that intelligence can lead to success, but it takes wisdom to bring you to happiness.

What does it say to you?

Today is our official All Words VIM.

VIM, in case you were wondering, is short for Very Important Meeting - so named because it is the occasion where, once a month, the Boss Ladies get together to discuss our company’s progress, any problems and strategies to further our ultimate aim of World Domination.

Oh, and because it generally takes place in a pub, or a swanky bar (depending on how many cheques have come through that month) – a Very Important Part (VIP) of the VIM.

I like that we use the term ‘VIM’. I like that I can say to someone “I have a VIM later,” and they’ll frown and ask what a VIM is, then laugh when I explain.

Because it is funny that we can take a simple concept like a meeting, slather it with an official title and then slice it into an acronym in order to make it sound more complicated and important – and, in the process, ensure that no-one else knows what on earth we’re talking about.

But what is even funnier is that that is exactly what so many acronyms do. Complicate. Confuse. And Put People Off (or PPO – sorry, couldn’t resist…).

Don’t get me wrong, acronyms have their places and uses. Industry organisations that have long-winded titles, for example - who wants to type out ‘Higher Education Environmental Performance Improvement’ more than once, when they could use HEEPI?

Some acronyms act as company ‘nicknames’, which can become an effective part of the branding process – think KFC, M&S, or FCUK.

Other acronyms are useful shorthand between industry professionals. When speaking to a web developer, for example, I’d prefer to discuss our CMS rather than stumble over the phrase ‘Content Management System’ every time we talk about websites.

But, when it comes to marketing, so many organisations forget that the acronyms they use in their everyday jobs simply aren’t understood by the people they want to market to – so filling their website and brochures full of initials often put potential customers off.

Obviously, it all depends on your audience. Industry professionals will recognise and feel comfortable with industry acronyms. But, if you’re a business finance expert and you’re addressing the financially-inexperienced owner of a small business, do explain that PIMS is short for Profit Impact of Marketing Strategies, before they think you’re offering them a summery drink.

Jargon. Business-speak. Acronyms. In your marketing materials, just say no, kids.

(But in your VIM, you could allow yourself a GSB*…)

*Glass of Sauvignon Blanc.

Have small children? Remember those long gone heady days spent lounging around in hotel bars and dancing the night away with your loved one? Miss them. So do I *sob*.

So when Nana Cooper-Abbs offered to have the youngest member of the All Words team (Mia – 19 months) for a night I jumped at the chance.

A few months ago I had the pleasure of joining a friend for drinks at a smashing boutique hotel called Great John Street in Manchester. I thought it would be the perfect getaway for a night off from toddler chasing. I checked their slickly designed and easy to use website and noticed they had a late availability offer for £135. For a city centre hotel (overlooking Granada Studios and a stones throw away from Deansgate) that’s pretty reasonable.

I booked over the phone (online booking isn’t available for late deals). A few days later I received an email from a member of staff informing me that there would be a function on the roof terrace the night we were staying in the hotel, nicely reassuring us that we wouldn’t be disturbed. I didn’t fancy joining in that party as well so requested a room as far away as possible.

On an unseasonably hot Saturday afternoon we arrived at the hotel to a very warm (‘scuse the pun) welcome. The receptionist checked us in, asking whether we need wake up calls or papers in the morning. All very efficient, yet calm and unhurried. She mentioned there had been some confusion when booking as my address hadn’t been taken, but it was quickly resolved.

We went up to our room (Baby Grand) which was stunning. Sumptuous decoration, bathroom upstairs complete with roll top bath and classical music playing gently in the background. Unfortunately it was directly under the roof terrace and opposite the staircase to the soon-to-be-filled-with-revellers-terrace. With mild irritation I made my way back down to reception and explained we had requested not to be near the roof terrace, and emails had been exchanged to confirm this. The very lovely, if slightly flustered receptionist, told me that the notes on the computer said I had requested a room on the second floor under said roof terrace.

But she immediately rectified the mistake and moved us to the best room she could find on the same floor. It was yet another beautiful Baby Grand with queen size bed and a cooling breeze of air conditioning. We’d just managed to find the mini bar and kick off our shoes when there was a knock at the door. Earlier flustered receptionist was now red cheeked receptionist who confessed that she had booked us into someone else’s room who was now standing in reception. Ummm.

Before we even had a chance to express annoyance she whipped out the trump card, free upgrade. Don’t you just love those words?

Once again we took a little trip down the corridor to our new, Boudoir Grand room. This one featured a king size bed, a natty flat screen television and more room to scatter the mini bar remnants around.

Five minutes later the phone rang and we answered (presuming news of some toddler hi-jinks) only to be asked if we would like some complimentary drinks to compensate us for all the inconvenience. We thought it rude to decline.

A restful, very quiet night followed with no party noise. If you’re looking for the kind of hotel where you are treated with personal service and every staff member does their absolute best for you then give Great John Street a whirl.

We’re looking for a babysitter so we can go back. Any volunteers?

It’s happened. I’ve had an epiphany. I think my eternal nirvana could be a tapas restaurant in Preston.

Preston. My birthplace and home until about 5 years ago is the administrative centre of Lancashire, home of the second biggest bus station in Europe and the legend that is Tom Finney. Much as I love my hometown, it isn’t renowned for its thriving café society and culinary experiences (unless you count butter pies and parched peas as the height of gastronomic excellence).

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I know, I know, never discuss religion or politics. However, in the case of God Explained in a Taxi Ride I’ll make an exception. Written by Paul Arden, former Executive Creative Director of Saatchi & Saatchi, he was responsible for some of the UK’s most successful advertising campaigns. He has taken the tricky subject of religion, and tackled it in a very visual way. This isn’t a fuzzy wuzzy book about spirituality and in a famed direct approach, he doesn’t shy away from the big questions.

This book will make you think, a couple of pages actually made my head hurt, which I happen to think is a good thing. At times he is purposely controversial about a topic which already has an intrinsic ability to inflame the most mild mannered of people. But then he was well known for his difficult manner and his opinion that to be exceptional you had to dispense with convention. Maybe he returns to convention at the end of the book when he announces that he found god, or maybe that is the ultimate twist. Whatever he found on this side I just hope it was there to greet him on the other side - Arden passed away on 2nd April 2008.

You may well read this post and choose to dismiss it, in a floccinaucinihilipilification of all it contains.

Or, you may be interested to learn that, with a length of 29 letters, the longest non-scientific, non-technical word in the English language is floccinaucinihilipilification, meaning “the act of estimating something as worthless”.

Now, isn’t that just supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?

Writers really do laugh about this stuff. Sad aren’t we?

Well, we may not be famous in the strictest sense of the word but our sparkly new website has been featured here It’s a web site to inspire other web designers and developers in their mission to build interesting, exciting and functional websites. If you’d like to know more about the technology behind our site contact the truly wonderful Lee Simpson at Studio Eighty Six.

I have to admit to having a mild case of technophobia (er, a raging case of the techno scaredy cats if the truth be known). However, I’ve just stumbled across something which has, quite literally, blown my socks off. I am sat here, bare footed, ga ga over a piece of technology. It gets worse, it’s a piece of software.

My better half introduced me to the world of Microsoft Silverlight. I can’t begin to talk about the technology behind it as I’d make an coffee spluttering embarrassment of myself but the best way I can describe it is that someone took Flash and gave it steroids. The best demonstration of its capabilities is on the Hard Rock Memorabilia site (and sorry, you do have to download the software - stop that booing at the back!). I won’t spoil the fun for you, just look at The Beatles and keep zooming in, and in, and in…Amazing.