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A-d-d-i-c-t-i-v-e

The word is "addictive", people. A-d-d-i-c-t-i-v-e. Not "addicting". I admit to being more than a bit of a grammar nazi, but boy does this one bother me. And it's popping up everywhere now. I saw the use of "addicting" on a commercial for some ABC TV show. That's really why it's become so bothersome, along with the usage of "bias" instead of "biased", as in "That guy is so bias."

Now, I am fully aware that language is a constantly evolving thing, but there's a difference between evolution and things that would make anyone with respect for the English language cringe. Where did these people go to school? It's bad enough that phrases such as "his album drops on Tuesday" are making it into formal press wire releases such as the AP.

Just remember, folks, when something is so good it pulls you in, it's addictive. Addicting is not the word.

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QotD: Well, I’d Never!

What did you think you would never ever do… but did? 
Submitted by Murky.  

I had my hair cut in early summer. Now that may not seem like a big deal to most people, but mine was down to my thighs and it had been sort of in a plain one length style for many years. I'd trimmed it myself here and there but I hadn't let anyone else cut my hair since I was nine years old.

Why? When I was nine, I went with my mother to the children's hair place we'd gone to many times over the years. I think we'd asked for a cut around chin length or just below. When I was a kid, my mom always preferred my hair short and my dad always preferred my hair long. I sort of tended to waver a bit, preferring it longer much of the time, but my mom would eventually win, and my hair as a kid was usually never past my shoulders.

This time, however, the final result was way too short. I hated it. I was nine years old and of course, hair grows back, but when you're a kid, it's devastating. And it seems to take absolutely forever. I cried about it a lot. It was roughly to my ear.

I was so traumatized by that incident that I didn't let another person cut my hair for sixteen years.

In the meantime, I enjoyed it once it got long. I loved all the new things I could do that I couldn't before. And so after a while, my mother relented and let me keep it, as long as I brushed and took care of it. I did just that.

It was alternately pretty and versatile and partial security blanket. I grew up a pretty shy girl and I suppose that was a natural progression. so when it came time to consider cutting it, I was scared. I hadn't had hair that short since childhood! It was almost a part of my identity. I tied it to how pretty I was and all sorts of oddities. I was literally terrified to get my hair cut.

I was afraid it would turn out badly and I'd be traumatized for another 16 years.

In May, I noticed an ad in a magazine for an upcoming charity event that would take place in June. It was sponsored by Redken, and all proceeds from the day would be given to b.cause, sponsoring America's Second Harvest. So I made the decision to go. I was really scared (my poor boyfriend, trying to reassure me that it would be okay), but I went. I figured I'd get it cut and also donate the hair to a charity afterward.

So that's what I did. I didn't get much sleep the night before (for a number of reasons), but I walked in there, stated approximately what I wanted (mid-back with some long layering) and even before they washed my hair, my stylist snipped off a good 15 inches or so. In a few seconds, there went a lot of hair and the rest of my fear. People kept coming around to see me and talk to me because I was obviously getting something dramatic done, and donating to two charities at once. Plus, I think my hair was kind of admired since it's never been permamently dyed or altered.

It came out a bit shorter when dry than I'd expected, but I was fine. No trauma, just the knowledge that it would grow in eventually. Now it has, and I still have all this versatility and more than before, since it's no longer nearly as heavy.

I never really imagined having my hair cut again, let alone being happy with it, but I have.

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Puppy Love

I'm a huge animal lover. I always have been. I enjoy visiting cute animal sites and blogs like Cute Overload . Sometimes when I'm feeling down, these sorts of sites can bring me right back up again. This was the case the other day when I had an argument with my boyfriend. It wasn't anything major, just a normal couples thing, but for a short time, I felt the accompanying upset and stress.

So I turned to Daily Puppy.

I had only been to the site once or twice before, so I obviously hadn't seen the overwhelming majority of the entries before. I browsed through the cute pictures of several puppies. Little by little, I started to feel better. Jack russell terriers, samoyeds, pomeranian mixes – all had begun to help ease the stress and make me calmer. And then I saw him. His name is Teddy and he's a daschund.

It was puppy love at first sight.

One look at those eyes and it was over for me.

As for the reason I was upset, it's mostly resolved. Plus, in the greater scope of things, it's very trivial.  Once Teddy had made me feel a bit better, I was in a better position to relax and begin to put it behind me.

I showed Teddy to my boyfriend afterward and he found him just as charming. He found those eyes to be quite pretty too. I  can't wait until I can have my own dog someday. It's something I've been waiting many years for. But the day when it will happen is closer than ever. And maybe I will have my own dog's pretty eyes to look into when I need comfort in the future. But for now, I've got Teddy bookmarked.