I am a freak for English and Literature.  I have always loved reading and writing for as long as I can remember.  These days I only read maybe one book a month.  I spend the rest of my time reading blogs; mostly belonging to people who don’t know I read their blogs.  Makes me feel sneaky, I guess.  But it is also very similar to reading a book, especially coming from blogs of people who I know of, but do not know personally.  Because of that, I don’t judge the people for what they write, I just read and think “wow, what a life to live” or any other random thoughts.  The only thing that bothers me about blogs (and it really bothers me) is the number of misspellings in them.  I’m not talking about obvious typos or a little letter missing, I’m talking about words that are just misspelled because the correct spelling is not known or temporarily forgotten.

At first, I thought it was just people feverishly typing down their thoughts while they were fresh and not giving a damn about spelling.  Then I started to think that it was pure laziness.  I mean, you have to push a few buttons before it is posted, so why not proofread? (That’s the formal English Major in me)  Now my thinking is, “So what?”  As long as the words are not butchered to the point where I cannot contextually figure out what they are, does it really matter?  I am still getting out of these blogs what was intended, so what difference is a little spelling error going to make?  I’m trying to let it go, folks.  Seriously.  HOWEVER, there is one thing I must do, and it is partially because I had a lot of trouble with it too, until recently.  The word is definitely.  NOBODY knows how to spell this word correctly.  So I am going to give you the little trick that I use to spell it on the fly.  Break it up like this:  de-finite-ly.  Please utilize this, and tell your friends!  I’ll shut up if I start seeing the word as it should be, I promise!

I have a dirty secret.  I am in love with CuteOverload.com. I go there at least once a day to take a peek at what insanely cute pictures they have.  Many a time I have found myself so entranced with a particular picture I am startled to find that I am making weird squeaking noises at my computer screen.  Yes, some of the pictures are that cute……if you like that kind of thing.  Personally, I love little fuzzy animals doing extremely cute things, or wearing clothes, or sleeping in bowls, or even just sitting there.  Pathetic?  Yes, I’ll be the first to admit it.  Having three cats myself, I love all the pictures of kittens they have, but I was surprised at how adorable rabbits (bunnies if you wanna be cutesy) can be.  They can have big floppy ears, warm little eyes, and those cute feet!  OK, ok, even I am detecting that this post has become overly saccharine, so I will switch gears.

Another site I visit often is YouTube.  I watch videos of my favorite artists (because heaven forbid music tv channels actually show videos for more than 4 hours a day), and I look up stupid stuff.  I recommend looking at the “talking cats” videos.  Some of those are hilarious.  A lot of videos people post suck, but some are pretty funny.  I guess it’s worth checking out if you have some free time, though I assume most are familiar with the site.

I have never considered myself to be a vain person.  I’m the first to admit that I am not the type of person you’d want to give a second glance.  But I miss my hair.  It’s a long story, but I’ll do my best to keep it simple.

I always had long hair.  At first it was not my choice.  My parents thought a proper young lady ought to always have long hair.  Then as I got older, I was just used to it.  I cropped it a few times in high school and college, but never too short (i.e. it was always long enough to pull back in a pony tail).  When Jessie and I found out we were going to have to move to Seattle for his work, we had only four months I think to orchestrate a 3,000 mile move.  I was a complete mess, packing day and night.  I gained so much weight (but I am working very hard to slim up).  I was completely depressed and I didn’t want to alert Jessie because the move was inevitable, so I did the next best thing.  I vented by cutting off all my hair.  At the time, my hair was long enough to sit on.  I got up one morning, put on a hat, and went to a hair salon.  The lady who cut my hair actually cried.  She cut it to about a half and inch length, and I felt amazing.  I don’t think a lot of people can understand a move like that being purely hormonal, but that is exactly what it was.  My next move was showing off my super cute hair to everyone.  Jessie looked horrified, then touched it, was quiet for a minute, then asked if I liked it.  My friends loved it (cuz I have awesome friends) and my mom was horrified when I told her over the phone.  Let me explain my mom:  we have a great relationship, but she is still my mother and any chance I get to put her into a foaming froth is always worth the effort.

Time goes by and I continue to love my hair.  Until we finally get to Seattle.  I start to miss my girly hair.  I start to feel less feminine.  And let me tell you, the growing out process hasn’t helped.  The stage where I had Game-Show-Host-Helmet-Hair was the worst.  But I am sticking to my guns, I want my bloody hair back.  I’m at the point where I can do a samurai knot on the top of my head, but it is still too short to do much else.  It’s actually growing pretty fast, but I am so impatient it will seem like a lifetime until it is long enough to satisfy.