Have I mentioned how cool it is that my name is domain name now? Dana Huff dot Net. How cool is that?
I have been told by my students that they might actually visit the web site I set up for them if it was on MySpace. Can you believe that? Steve has a MySpace site. He actually seems to be using it, too. Students set one up for me, but I deleted it. There is just something inside me, something compelling, that will not allow me to have a MySpace site, even though I did get a Facebook site. Why I did it, I couldn’t tell you, because I can’t remember the last time I looked at until I just did so I could get the link. Actually, I’m not even sure you can look at until we add each other as friends, so the point may be moot, anyway.
I don’t know why, but I was so insulted by that remark from my students. MySpace sites are generally loud, garish, and revolting to look at. They are so loaded down with graphics and sound files that they crash browsers. And to top it all off, I can’t figure out what the point is. There is a blog feature, but most people I know on MySpace don’t use it. So it’s basically just a photo album where people they see every day anyway come by and make comments. I guess I could see having a site like that to connect to friends I rarely see, but my students’ sites anyway are littered with comments from each other. I just can’t bring myself to sign up for a MySpace account, even if doing so might help me connect with old friends. Speaking of which, each time I try looking for old friends, I am only more grateful that I got the hell out of Warner Robins.
In other news, I have strep throat. Sarah was out of school all week last week with it. It’s amazing that after taking just two pills, I already feel a lot better.
Girls, I want to offer you a bit of… well, you could call it advice, but maybe it’s just “from my experience, this works.” Might not work for you, I don’t know. In an entry that has been lost to the ether since my former host hosed up my site, I mentioned that a cashier at Panera had complimented me on my hair. I am way more than 50% gray at this point (I think), and I haven’t dyed my hair in over five years. This week, the guy who instructs our students in capoeira asked me if it was my natural color. I started to be snarky, because I think it’s pretty obvious that I don’t dye my hair (and I wasn’t feeling well, which sometimes brings out the snark) — why else would it be so gray? Anyway, I decided to be polite, as usual, and I said, “yes.” I was rewarded for my politeness when he told me — and I quote — that it was “beautiful, man.” He gushed about it, actually. Then he said that he could see someone trying to dye their hair that color and really screwing it up. It was nice to hear a man say those things about my hair, even if he is a little creepy. I don’t think Steve liked hearing about it. I think he was jealous. Of course, he’s been telling me he likes my hair for over five years. But doesn’t he have to? I mean, as my husband, if he says he’d rather I dyed it because he doesn’t like it gray, doesn’t that make him emotionally abusive in today’s culture? At any rate, I believe Steve does like my hair. Somehow, it’s different hearing it from someone else.
I was wondering if posting that would make him, mad, but he just doesn’t check in here very often for whatever reason, so I decided what the hell.