The Gullibility of Olivia Longfellow

Note: Longfellow is not actually my last name, but such a title needed a last name, and not wanting to put my actual last name on the internet, I resolved to make one up.

Now on to your regularly scheduled post.

All over the internet, amid compilations of random facts or useless information, I had come across the statement that the commonly used word gullible is not in the dictionary.

When I first saw this, I scoffed, for of course the word gullible is in the dictionary, and I questioned the credibility of the other facts listed. The next time I saw it I wondered if perhaps the word was commonly misspelled, and the proper way was to omit one L, but I was busy and went about my tasks for the day without consulting the dictionary.

When I came across this piece of information again, I double checked to be sure I was, in fact, spelling gullible properly. There it was on dictionary.com: "gullible - adjective - easily deceived or cheated."

I was so perturbed by this, that such blatantly false information was circulating the internet, that I brought it to the attention of my mother.

"Mother," I said, "I don't understand. I keep seeing this thing that gullible is not in the dictionary. But it's on dictionary dot com!"

Here, she grinned.

I stared blankly, wondering what was so funny.

"Olivia," she began.

And then I got it.

We fell in heaps laughing.

Gullible! The dictionary! I looked up gullible in the dictionary! This was a trick and I fell for it!

Of course, all this was a trick meant purely for the amusement of my mother. Of course.

I would never actually fall for anything like that.

It was just a... blonder than usual... moment.

Postscript:

It's Monday!

The day of music!

A psaltery and guitar ensemble, it says*, of Waltz from Masquerade by Aram Khachaturian.

*Well, Google Translate says it says. 

I Am a Hostess

Dear reader, I am a victim of the dreadful rhinovirus.

In other words, I hab cod a coad.

Viruses are meanies. Really, don't they have anything better to do than pick on poor, innocent little girls?

That... that thing is infecting me. How rude!

Actually, it's sort of pretty... it's blue... and wavy... and it glows...

But I don't want it inside of me!

If you noticed an absence of posts over the weekend, that blue glowy thing the explanation. If you didn't notice the absence of posts over the weekend (more likely), shh! I didn't say anything.

I do believe, however, that I am recovering from this infection, and that my prognosis is fair. Odds are, I will survive. After all, if my research is correct, less than half of 1 percent of people afflicted with this illness die.

Still, there is that half of a percent...

Pretty Colors! Pretty Music!

Yesterday I pondered what piece I might post for this week's Musical Monday, and suddenly it occurred to me, "I have not posted a Chopin ever in the history of Musical Monday! How shameful! What a disgrace! I must amend this!"

This revelation was quite shocking, given my fondness of Chopin's music. So, I am amending this.

A YouTube search for "chopin" wielded this video.

I thought that was kind of cool.

Post of Shame

Olivia has a blog, doesn't she?

Oops. She forgetted. And now she is so ashamed she is writing in the third person, because it is shameful to say "I forgot", but speaking this way it sounds as though someone else forgot, not Olivia. Also, she is so ashamed she can't even use proper grammar--hence why she forgetted and not forgot.

So this is the post of shame.

Part of the reason for her absence is that she hasn't been able to think of anything to write about. Actually, that's probably the reason for every absence of hers. Nothing too big or exciting goes on in her life to blog about.

But then it occurred to her that nothing terribly big or exciting happens in the lives of most of the bloggers whose blogs she follows. They just write about the little things in life, for the most part. She's going to try to start writing about the little things, too. So for practice, here's a little thing that happened to her.

On the Monday of yesterweek, Olivia thirsted, so to quench her thirst she went on a quest for tea. Her quest took her to the far away Pantry in the land of Kitchen. In Pantry, she found that which she sought--Canned Tea. In fact, there were two Canned Teas, nestled peacefully together in their dwelling of a long, narrow cardboard box.

Olivia extended her arm through the open door of their house and groped for a Tea. But the two Teas held fast in the bottom of their box. She lifted the whole box, with her arm still inside, and carried it across the land of Kitchen to the high ridge called Counter. There she could set down the box and extricate the Teas inside.

But on the way she did not see the stealthy Empty Box that lurked on the Plain of Tile. It pounced, setting itself directly in the path of her feet.

She flailed her arms wildly in a desperate attempt to maintain her balance. Finally, with her free hand (for her other arm held still the box of Tea) she managed to grasp hold of the edge of Counter. Thus she righted herself, and proceeded to drink a Tea.

While she escaped, ultimately, the wrath of the Empty Box, it inflicted lasting wounds. A muscle in her torso, across her side, has been pulled, and pains her to some degree to this day. In time, however, this wound is expected to heal.

And so concludes the Tale of the Empty Box Attacking the Bearer of the Tea.