Something That Makes Me Go Hmmmm

I'm sure if you used the internet a time or two, (this posting is on the internet, so this would count as one time), you've had to register for someone's website.

To register for someone's site means that they want to be nosy and collect info and put it an a brag book to show off to other website owners and say "nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, more people love me than you." Or something to that effect.

But have you ever noticed that when you register for someone's site, they ask you for your email address, right. You type in the first letter or your address and a drop-down menu with your address already neatly typed up for you pops up and you click on it and it fills in the blank automatically, so you don't have to type all of it. This is especially helpful for those who have ridiculously long email address, like my son, whose address is, like, 50 characters long.

Then they ask you to confirm the first email address, and enter it again. But how come the confirmation email doesn't do the cool, drop down, automatic entry thing? Then, after you manually type the ridiculously long email address and submit your new entry, you get the warning in bold red letters: Passwords Do Not Match, Try Again! It's really annoying.

Hmmmm?

To the Left, To the Left

This blog is not a referendum on the mysteries of being left-handed in a right-handed world but boy, is it tempting! We've taken some cheap shots over centuries, dating back to earliest times. Imagine having the left-handedness beaten out of you. Dang.

The inspiration for this blog literally hit me this morning. I don't know why I hadn't thought of it sooner. I am one of those who wears her left-handedness on her sleeve. You know, the one who exaggerates when I'm signing a document. I don't want to curve my wrist when I sign and I let 'em know it. I swirl the entire paper horizontal just so that the signature line is facing in the right direction where I can keep my wrist straight and sign my siggy. Dramatic, I know. But why should I have to endure ink marks lining my wrist and forearm because an elitist righty hands a piece of paper over to me assuming I'm one them?

Wonder if any famous lefties are dramatic in that way? Barack Obama? Oprah? Bill Clinton? Julia Roberts? Angelina Jolie? 50 Cent? Napolean?

OK, thanks for allowing me my one lefty rant. That is until something really out there pops up and I'll chime in again.

Way Out in Left Field

As you'll soon discover, this blog is going to contain posts about my highly opinionated view of just about everything. If it's blogworthy, I'm there. Have a suggestion? Drop me a note!

PS., Thanks mom for allowing me to write with my left-hand. It's so cool...