.org versus .com

I know it's not Monday. But I'll be on a plane coming home on Monday, and don't know if I'll get a chance to post.

I've been spending a wee tad too much time online. I'm sure the addiction will pass. Soon I hope (although I just found Animoto - thanks to Louise - so I fear I will have a new addiction soon. When I figure out how to post the videos to blogspot, then I'll share them here.)

I'm off to Cape Cod tomorrow morning at an ungodly hour. It's one thing to get up mega-early to exercise. At that time... it really doesn't matter what you look like. You put your hair in a pony, slap some deodorant on and you're good to go. Unless you are jump-rope girl. Then, well, I guess it takes a bit more effort. She's at the gym. Jumping rope. All. the. time. And she's very perky.

So not only will I have to get up early, I have to *get ready.* To get on a plane. Get ready to be treated like cattle. Potentially criminal cattle, at that. I will go against my upbringing and will wear the ultra-comfy velour sweatsuit on the plane.

You see, I was raised to dress up for plane trips. And for church too. And out to dinner. Pretty much anywhere, actually. Outings required outfits. But especially plane rides. I guess it was a hold-over from my grandparents. They still dress up to travel - perhaps because they do so on passes... but still, I think it's a generational thing. The only time my grandfather *isn't* dressed up is when he's working around the house: fixing the wiring, cutting and laying tile, etc. Since he's 90 now, most of that kind of work has ceased: hastened by his fall off the ladder last year when he tried to trim the hedges and wound up in the hospital. So now he's either in pajamas (both tops and bottoms, thank you) or dressed up. Nicely. (How I wish my husband would take a look at a page from this man's book...) And tomorrow I will get up and put on my "clothes:'" which I'm sure my grandparents will consider pajama-like.
I will feel a tinge of guilt at this. But after the almost 8 hours of travel, I will be one happy, comfortable camper.

And now...
.COM VERSUS .ORG
In this corner: .org.
We received a girl scout update from Julia's leader last night. She suggested the girls look at several websites to help choose the "cookie patch" for the event they (as junior girl scouts now) are hosting in January. As the girls get older, the activities get more girl-driven: or at least that's what is supposed to happen. One of the sights listed was www.girlfirst.org. I tried clicking on the link and got nowhere. Thinking maybe a letter was missing, I added an "s" and re-typed in the url.
Aaaannnddd...In this corner: .com
What I didn't do was double check to see if it was supposed to be .org or .com. It's supposed to be .org people. DOT. ORG. *NOT* DOT. COM Because .com will take you to the adult poster site of "girlsfirst:" a site that doesn't offer the right kind of cookie patch... seriously people. Thank goodness Julia was not with me when I found this. Brian was. {edited here to protect Brian...} He already knew of the pitfalls of .org vs. .com. I guess that until VERY recently, FDA.com was a site of colorful nature also...

So we cleared that right up. And now we know where to look for the correct cookie patch. (yes, I'm acutely aware of how that sounds.)