It's true. Ask Kurt. I correct him all the time when he says "would of went" during our nightly online conversations.
It's not that I'm trying to be rude or treat people like they're stupid. Some people can do calculus in their sleep -- not me, math hates me. (So why am I a computer science major?!) Most of the time I don't even mention it; I only say something to Kurt because he's trying to improve his grammar for his college English classes.
But when I see something in print that is grammatically incorrect, I cringe. I want to scribble it out and write in the correct usage. Confusing "its" with "it's" and vice versa, misuse of apostrophes in general, "could of" instead of "could have"... YES I'M SICK!! I'M ANAL RETENTIVE!! I NEED HELP!!!!!
Ok, I feel better now. **uncurls from her fetal position**
But DAMN do I feel good. I got home from work feeling nasty and grimy since I was far too lazy to get up this morning early enough to shower, so as soon as I walked in the door I headed to the bathroom. I took a LOOOOONG hot shower, got myself as squeaky clean and hairless as a girl can get without shaving my head or eyebrows, and curled up in the loosest clothes I have -- lounging pants and a W&M t-shirt that I could only find in an extra large. It's so comforting to be so clean and warm. :o)
I meant to be productive today. I need to start packing... I have to take Mark to the movies (to see Chicken Run since Marty already took him to see The Kid) on Friday, and I won't have all day to pack. I just can't force myself to do it. I'm so comfortable in this room -- it's somewhat small and cramped, but that's part of the comfort. My bed takes up almost all the room, and I have my computer set up on a desk that wasn't meant for computers. My fish swims happily on the shelf above my monitor, where I can see him whenever I glance up. That shelf is also full of my knick-knacks -- my Dipsy (yes, I like the Teletubbies), my Beanie Babies that were gifts from Corey and Stina, my two tins of loose tea, two boxes of bagged tea, my printer, the garter that Corey caught at Lakita's wedding and had to put on me, the dollar that my mom's co-worker at Cracker Barrel folded up into a shirt, the amethyst geode part that Sean gave me for my birthday one year, and my can of air that Stina finds more fun than Whack-a-Mole. And that's just one shelf!
I don't want to have to pack all of this away. Next summer I won't be back. I'll be facing THE REAL WORLD in my own apartment... away from the womb of parental living. It's a scary proposition...