Sunday, November 24, 2013

I Can Spell Better Than My Brain

"What are we doing tomorrow night, Brain?"
Apparently, incorrectly spelling words, the same as every night.

I think we tend to give our brains too much credit. I mean, we rely on them to do stuff for us, stuff like thinking and spelling words correctly and remembering stuff. Yeah, I expect my brain to remember stuff, and I used to think it was pretty good at it, but I'm coming to believe that was just me and not my brain.

My brain does things like this:
My kids and I are leaving for school in the morning. My daughter is always the first one out the door. By a lot. I'm not really sure if she thinks that makes her brother (or me) go faster,  but it doesn't. At any rate, she'll ask me to unlock the car for her (which I can do from inside the house, thank to modern technology (AWESOME)), and go sit in it while her brother is still doing things like packing his lunch (which is already made, he just has to put it in his lunchbox), so, sometimes she's out there for a while. I'm frequently standing around in my jacket and my hat trying hard not to say, "We're going to leave without you," because he would just come back with "Okay!" and go back to his DS or whatever it was he was doing before he had to get ready to go. Anyway, we finally get out the door and I'm dreading getting into the car and having to listen to my daughter complain about how it's already 7:53 and she wanted to leave at 7:50, and the boy and I get in the car and she starts in on why it took so long and I start the car and say, "Did I lock the front door?"

One might think at that point that I'm asking Chompyhead (that's what we'll call the boy for reasons I may explain sometime), but I'm not, because I know he wasn't paying any attention. No, I'm asking my brain. Because, see, probably, my brain did tell my hands somewhere in the getting-out-of-the-house part to lock the front door, but I wasn't paying any attention to that part, because I just wanted Chompyhead to get out the door and into the car. And what does my brain say? "I don't remember."
"Seriously? That was, like, 30 seconds ago!"
My brain shrugs at me, "I don't remember."
That, of course, makes me angry, and I have to say, "What's the point of you, then?!" and climb back out of the car to check the door which is, of course, locked.
And I can't tell if my brain is laughing at me and chuckling "got you again" or if it really didn't remember, but, if it's going to go to the trouble of locking the door, it could at least let me know that it's done it. If I have to go back and check, what's the point?

And, so, when I'm writing, I don't want to have to think about how to spell words. Theoretically, my brain should know how to spell all of those words, right? Well, evidently not. And I'm not talking about obvious finger mistakes like "teh" instead of "the," I'm talking about words that my brain misspells over and over again. Especially homophones. Come on, Brain! You should know the difference between "peek" and "peak" and "steak" and "stake" and you shouldn't be "oblivious" by typing "obvious" and it shouldn't be "necessary" for me to stop you from typing "neccesary" every freaking time! I mean, come on! You've been doing this for a long time, why am I still having to remind you that it's only one "c"? Especially when I'm willing to give you a pass on "occasionally;" that one's totally on me.

All I want, and I don't really think that this is too much to ask for after all of this time, is that you get it write the first time. See! There you go again. I bet you thought I didn't see that. And it's that kind of thing that makes me wonder if you're doing all of this on purpose just to see if I'm paying attention. Well, I am! And I don't  much appreciate having to go back and fix your "mistakes," if that's what they are. You can be replaced, you know.

yeah, yeah I hear you laughing, "Science can't do brain transplants, yet." How do you know? Just because it's not being advertised, doesn't mean it's not going on somewhere. Besides, I have a Brain sitting right here next to my computer just waiting for the chance to take over the world!
(My Brain with his pet Yoda.)
Okay, so that taking over the world stuff is why it's still sitting on the computer, because I don't want that kind of trouble, but...

Your job, Brain, is to do the spelling. That's what I have you for. You're supposed to be the one stopping me and saying, "hold on there, buddy; 'necessary' only has one 'c'," not the other way around. If I have to do all the spelling and checking and all of that, what do I even have you for?

You know what, I can, too, get along just fine without you. I think you're really more trouble than you're worth. And, no, they don't check for brains before they give you a driver's license. That's dumb? Well, yeah, I know, but have you seen the other people out there driving around? You, of all brains, ought to be able to recognize brainless driving when you see it, so you can't hold that one over my head. I'll just drive like everyone else; they seem to get along just fine. Oh, I'll be dead within a week? We'll just see about that!

fklg l;jhghh ;zufhkl ;ljsdhg ;zhghg ;[ioghdfs lasdjgiou ;';kzjg ;pjfo ;lajlkhui aldhi0rt ...


  1. Ha! I know that feeling way too well, on both accounts.

    Sometimes I'll just be typing away at something mindlessly and then look back later and think, "Really? 'Peak' my interest? I'm climbing mountains now?"

    Also, last time I went on vacation I couldn't remember if I closed the garage door when we left. Imagine the kind of carnage that unleashed on my poor brain. (What if it's been open the whole time? What if people broke into the house? What if the garage is now occupied by rabbits and homeless people?)

    (It was closed, of course. I was just way too tired when we left)

  2. Blarg, Google ate my whole comment.

    Suffice to say, love the plush. It looks like it's seen a lot of love.

    My brain does that with names. It'll remember all of the fictional names in the world, but never names that I am actually required to remember in my day-to-day life to not look like a complete doofus. :P

  3. I've already turned all the power over to Google. It's my back up brain. And I do the "write" instead of "right" all the time.

  4. Darn brains! I have to fight my brain all the time. It IS funny that we have to stop and think of how to spell things. It's all one brain. But, apparently, the part of the brain that can spell is a different part than the one that writes.

    Speaking of brains, my son went through a phase where he kept arguing that his brain had made him do things, not him, so it couldn't be his fault. "My brain made me sneak into the pantry and take a snack when I wasn't supposed to."


    The Warrior Muse

  5. Hilarious posting! I do that all the time. I think it is the same as Kitchenheimers you know that one. You walk in the kitchen and forget why you went in there! :)

  6. It only gets worse as you get older. Trust me. At least once a week I crawl into bed and ask myself, did I set the alarm? Which of course means I have to get out of bed to go check. And yes, it's always on.
    I don't misspell words as much as I continue to use the same words over that I know I'm not supposed to use. You'd think my brain would remember by now.

  7. I have a whole bunch of words I get wrong all the time. When I was a kid, I was a great speller. Not so much now, and it irks the heck out of me.

  8. And just think how many brain cells we kill doin' stupid stuff, yet that amazing organ still functions purty darn well most of the time.

  9. That happens to me all the time. My mind is somewhere else when I'm doing habitual stuff and sometimes it leads to the carton of milk on my desk while the steaming coffee is in the frige. I can spell - but I can't type. Typos litter my writing, and I'd be lost without autocorrect. Your daughter sounds adorable! ;)

  10. I do agree with the brainless drivers, there really are lots of them. As for typos, I tend to blame my fingers rather than my brain. We do ask rather a lot of the poor brain don't we. Write?

  11. I tend to run on remote control for most of my daily functions. I mean, I don't want to have to think about how to brush my teeth, or how to shift gears in a stick shift, or whatever learned skill becomes just a motor control thing after repetition.

    Of course, it become a curse when I walk outside to check the mail and I've locked the front door of the house. I didn't mean to do it, I didn't want to do it, but I've trained myself to the point that I almost CAN'T leave the house without locking the door. It's just part of my process for closing the door. It's just muscle memory taking over.

    I'm awful with homophones when I write. Sometimes I'll stare at a sentence and know something is wrong with it, it just looks wrong, but I won't be able to tell what it is, I really won't. Then, I'll be rereading it an hour later and see that I had all sort sorts of oopsies that are as plain as day.

    The curse of being me, I suppose.

  12. I'm often amazed when I spell a big word correctly, like schizophrenic or camouflage.

  13. LOL! At least your brain doesn't entirely skip words. Yup, you read that right. SKIP WORDS. I think it's a rare form of dyslexia, or that's what I'm claiming, but it's annoying as heck. Still, I like my brain. It gives me nice story dreams that make me want to write and reminds me to fill it with cheese on a regular basis. Good, good brain. =)

  14. ABftS: Oh, yeah, that's the worst, having one of those thoughts once you're too far away to do anything about it. And you know it's just your brain being mean.

    Alex H: I hate when google does that. I suppose that must be what it eats, though, because it eats a lot of them.

    I'm pretty bad with names, too. And getting worse as I get older. It's like my brain regularly tosses what it views as unnecessary names in the trash can or, maybe, out the window.

    (And I do love my Brain. He's been with me a long time, now.)

    L.G.: Well, if I could actually plug Google into my head, that might work. Maybe I need a pair/pear/pare of those glasses...?

  15. I had to laugh over this. Yah, we all do it I think--especially spelling. I know I get in a hurry and I forget how to spell a word and I tend to rely too heavily on spell checker, lol!

    My hubs has had a routine about locks and such. Walks out the door and locks the door and says, lock, lock, lock. It signals his brain it's been done. He does it going through the house checking things before we leave or before bed.

    Sia McKye Over Coffee

  16. Shannon: Oh, man, that's kind of awesome. I want to try that... I'm just not sure on what. Darn, I'll have to think of something!

    G_G: See, that one I know about. There have been some studies on that, and it has to do with how your brain compartmentalizes. Just go back to the room where you thought of whatever it was you needed and, very often, you will remember what it was.

    Alex C: Maybe your brain really likes those words?

    JeffO: My vocabulary used to be better. Children ruined it.

    JKIR,F!: See, I stayed away from the brain cell killing stuff, and I still have problems.

    Lexa: I can't type, either, but I blame that stuff on my fingers.
    My daughter is adorable, but that doesn't stop her from being a handful or three.

    Jo: Write!
    But, you know, it did sign up for the job; it ought to, then, do it.

    Rusty: I suppose I don't like being on automatic pilot that much, and I get mad at my brain when it switches me there without permission.

    GP: Yeah, I can understand that, especially if it's a word you have no use for on a regular basis. It's like, "Why were you bothering to store that when you can't even keep track of the "c"s in "necessary?"

    Crystal: Oh, it does that, too. Actually, it does that more than anything else. Except, I'm not sure how much of that is my brain and how much is my fingers.

    And are you saying that your brain is a mouse? Because I can't think of another reason you'd be stuffing it with cheese.

    Sia: Actually, that saying things out loud has been shown in studies to be an effective way to remember whether you've done things.

  17. LOLOL!!!

    You know your brain is not the only one not showing up brain has also been going on strike!

    It particularly loves to do it when I'm at work and composing a Very Important Email.


  18. RG: Hmm, well, maybe you could borrow (or steal) someone else's when you need to do one of those emails.

  19. What? My brain is a mouse? Does that mean I can hook it up to the computer and automatically transfer all my data? Because that would be GREAT! ;)

  20. True story: Last night I took Mr F for a ride and came home, hung up Sweetie's keys, took Mr F upstairs, put him to bed, went into our room, and Sweetie said:

    "Did you hang up my keys?"

    And I said:


    And she said:

    "Did you?" because she KNOWS me and knows I probably didn't, and my brain said:


    So I went back downstairs and looked and I HAD, and I went back upstairs and reported that yes, I'd done my job.


    I loved this post. I was laughing so much. Plus, I'm glad to know I'm not the only homonym misuser out there. I thought I had a brain tumor. (That is my first response to everything from headache to misplacing my keys to oversleeping: "Do I have a brain tumor and should I therefore go back to bed?" YES.)

  21. This is my life. Of course, I'm moderately dyslexic and dysgraphic, so a bit of it is to be expected when it comes to reading, writing, and speaking.

    The only thing I've ever found to help is physically writing or typing a word so often that it gets programmed into my muscle memory. As far as I can tell, that allows you to bypass the sequencing center of the brain, which is where the difference in wiring that causes dyslexia and dysgraphia occurs. If I just think the word and let my fingers go, I do fine, but if I ever think about spelling the word, there's no chance unless it's super simple.

    Homonyms are my kryptonite. Eight times out of ten, I'll end up typing the wrong one. Thank goodness for find and replace!

  22. Crystal: If you get that to work, let me know. Actually, there probably are some people that could make that work for you.

    Briane: Laughing is good.
    Going back to bed is good.

    Amanda: See, I wish I could just let my fingers go, but my brain nudges them to do wrong things when I'm not paying attention.

    Thanks for stopping by!