I will call you squishy. And you will be mine. And you will be my squishy.

You learn a new and totally irrelevant fact every day.

This morning I learned why our eyebrows don’t grow as long as the rest of our hair. According to a Seattle news station and a doctor they interviewed (sorry, I didn’t pay enough attention to attribute this correctly. I am not a good journalist, apparently, but I will address that later) hair has two phases of growth – growing and resting.

The hair on a person’s head grows for three years, and then rests for three months before falling out to be replaced by new hair.

The hair of the eyebrows only grows for four short months, and then rests for nine before falling out. That means no matter how long you let them go untrimmed, your eyebrows will never grow out to the length of the hair on your head.

You can, however, achieve an impressive unibrow, such as the one I saw at a diner in Lakewood, Washington, which goes nearly halfway down its wearer’s nose on both sides. It’s like an extra set of sideburns.

In other news, a very nice woman insulted me today. I’m not sure how to handle this. If she had been rude, uneducated, ugly or emitting an offensive smell, I probably would have taken it with a grain of salt. Unfortunately, she is a beautiful, smart doctor who spends her days saving the lives of leukemia patients (to include a good friend of mine who would have died had it not been for her efforts) and probably gives soup and blankets to homeless people in her spare time.

She told my supervisor (not me) that I am a bad writer – so bad, in fact, that she cannot even rewrite an article for me, because she “cannot write at a 10th grade level.” I can only assume from context that she meant she is above 10th grade level, although the sentence itself implies otherwise.

Until she brought this to my attention, I was unaware that my news-writing was equivalent to that of a 10th-grader. This means two things: first that I am not doing my job well, since I am required to write at a fourth-grade level so that my target audience can understand me, and second that high-school sophomores have gotten smarter. When I was in 10th grade, trying to get a fellow student to read the sentence “eventually all things merge into one, and a river runs through it,” aloud and with fewer than three mispronounced words was as much an exercise in futility as trying to get a democrat to acknowledge they lost the election.

Seriously guys, let it go. There was no scandal, no thievery no cheating. You lost because your candidate was weak and because God still loves America despite America’s desperate attempts to disown God.

My next project: learn to tighten my focus to one or two subjects per article. My topic-jumping is reminiscent of John Kerry taking a position on ... well, anything really.