If you don't know how to pronouce something, SAY IT LOUD

In my last post I wrote about feeling proud of my newfound computer skill. True, the day before I had inadvertantly shut down Blogger with my incompetence, but now I could do it. I could cross out words. Just like this. I'd mastered it. I even ended my post with "Drumroll please....." and then I crossed out the sentence: "Don't be surprised if you see a lot of this in the future." How witty of me. I pressed Publish and then View Blog, and then HOLY COW! I had done it AGAIN! Everything after "drumroll please" was crossed out, all gadgets, all comments, everything. I knew I hadn't forgotten to use the backslash, which was the crucial missing component the day before, but this time I used it after the s instead of before it, which apparently is a big deal.

It's one thing to meekly admit that you're ignorant; it's another thing to brag that you're not an idiot while at the same time publicly demonstrating that you absolutely are.

This brings me to a Lyle story. When we were dating, he couldn't figure out how to spell my name. Despite my spelling it out for him on more than one occasion, he consistently got it wrong. The possibilities were endless. Aileen, Ilean, Ilene.... He just couldn't get it right. Finally he bragged that he HAD it. He could spell my name. Just to demonstrate, he dropped a get-well card off at my apartment when I had the flu. I saved the envelope, because he truly was confident that he was right. The pencil is pretty faded, but I think you can still read it.

Eilene (note the correct spelling) And he was wrong AGAIN! I once heard advice that if you don't know how to pronounce something, say it loud. Lyle and I seem to have latched onto that mantra. While we're saying things like, "Drumroll please.... Look how I've mastered Blogger" or "Note correct spelling," what we're really doing is screaming at the top of our lungs:

I don't know how to use my computer!

I don't know how to spell my fiance's name!

This leaves our daughter Madeline wondering if we REALLY met in a comparative literature class or if it was perhaps a Life Skills 101 class. But actually, I just first saw him in comparative literature, we met in the waiting room of the ER. The fact that we were there requiring professional assistance should have been a sign of things to come. Yes, we still need help. Eilene, you've crossed out our whole blog and shut down the blog-o-sphere. Help!(/s>