Hollandise makes me happy too.
Merry Christmas, it’s time to do the cards; my apologies to anyone receiving a card from me with their named spelled wrong. One year I wrote in a card, Dear Jeffery, then addressed the envelope, Mr. Geoffery … Truth is, I was little drunky that year, I usually misspell names only one time per card.
This has been going on my whole life. When I was about ten, I wrote I love you Aunt Runt in the dirt on the side of her and Uncle Bill’s trailer. The irony is, she was a six footer in stocking feet. I know she must have found that funny, because she told everyone in the family. And they thought it was funny. And they still do. Let it go people or I’m not coming to the reunion next year!!!
My mom tells me Einstien couldn’t spell, so there’s comfort in that. Keeps me from thinking I’m dump.
People haven’t always been kind to me about my poor spelling, and I defiantly didn’t find them funny. I had a teacher once, who was probably hated when she was a child and was passing it along. She disliked my whimsical attitude toward spelling, life, and the school structure in general. She once made me spell obnoxious aloud in front of the class until I got it write. What a bitch!!!
So perhaps my laxadiasicle approach to spelling is a kind of rebellious stance. Like a lot of rebellious stances that have been in place since one’s youth, it often is tantamount to shooting one’s self in the foot, but it could just be that I am smart and creative and my mind works too fast and just like Einstein, I am a genios too.