Stoopid girl

It's a good thing spelling doesn't count on blogs. Or maybe it does, just a little. The thing is, if I wasn't so goshderned lazy, I would just get into the habit of using blogger's spellcheck capability, thus eliminating the risk of embarASSment altogether.

Now, for a sensational slide down the slippery slope of spelling stupidity, for a full-fledged fun flight of fancy on the flagrant foul of my fledgling feat of word-flinging: Alliteration.

And gadzoinks, gosh-dangit and urp; smack me upside the noggin...the correct spelling of "that word" is:onomatopoeia

I love all the comments here...I am ADDICTED to them, really. I think I would rather comment on your comments than on anything I ever have to say, myself. The good, the bad, the ugly...anyone who knows me in real life knows that it is hard for me to resist stirring the pot a bit, so I can totally understand when others do so.

So, just thinking about the concept of spelling....why is it so apalling to be caught in the act of misspelling? Personally, I think it is far more embarassing to be caught in the act of mis-pronouncing, because to me that implies that one is a pretender, a vicarious liver of life. One can read all one wants, but if one has not lived the life one is reading about, one cannot properly pronounce words like "respite" ("res-pit", not "RE-spite") and "redux" ("ray-doo", not "REE-DUX"). But maybe that is just my "stuff".

A writing replete with misspellings possesses its own implications about the writer - perhaps that one is NOT a reader, that one is merely a poser, using big words with which one is not truly familiar, which implies a bit of fraud. Of course, in this day and age, with spellcheck easily accessible on nearly every writing platform, poor spelling may indicate something even worse...a lazy writer, an inconsiderate writer! Someone who can't be bothered to make her writing accessible to others.

Or it just might be a glitch....

;)

YC

P.S. I didn't spellcheck this. And I didn't even check to confirm the pronunciations of respite and redux. The Yoga Chickie is living dangerously today (and she didn't practice, since it IS Saturday, and her sore throat was even worse today...thinking about calling the doc for a Z-Pack. One of the little-known benefits of having a cancer-diagnosis under your belt is that forever after, if you want drugs, all ya gotta do is ask).