Why do guys write such short e-mails? Usually they're not only brief, but you can typically count on at least one misspelling, missing punctuation, and an extra word thrown in somewhere that makes no sense. You could send an e-mail to a guy letting him know you'd decided to donate a kidney to his firstborn child, and you'd get in response, "Thanks a. that'l help"

But the record for e-mail brevity goes to a co-worker I shared an office with a year ago. After teasing him about being especially talkative one afternoon, he responded by giving me the silent treatment for the remaining three hours of the day. I finally sent an e-mail asking something like, "Are you ever going to talk again?" He surprised me by responding right away - but when I opened the message, it was completely blank. At least everything was punctuated correctly.

When I told my family about my ill-timed reading of Mad Cow articles during lunch last week. my brother suggested that maybe I was only eating Slightly Annoyed Cow.

Arizona Republic columnist Clay Thompson refutes the myth that light-colored cars are cooler inside than dark-colored ones. That's good news for those of us who find white cars bland. But when you live in Phoenix, the Land of White Vehicles, you have to be careful about expressing your car-color opinions. Once a group of coworkers and I were discussing our favorite car models. I told them, "I always know I really like a certain type of car if I like it in white, because I think that's the most boring color for a car." As soon as I said it, I realized three of the four people around me drove white vehicles. Oops.

After the Mad Cow scare hit, I steered (very bad pun only sort of intended) clear of beef for about a year. Ocassionally, when I was beginning to tire of chicken, and the shredded beef Chipotle burrito looked especially appetizing, I would indulge in a game of Beef Roulette. I'm becoming a little less paranoid about the whole thing lately, and decided to brave a beef selection when I stopped by a favorite Mexican restaurant for lunch yesterday. I read the newspaper as I ate -- and proceeded to find two articles about Mad Cow. I'm thinking of becoming a vegeterian.

I have a basic cell phone plan that gives me a low monthly rate and very limited number of minutes. The plan is ideal for me, since I have the phone mostly for security, and to make an occasional quick call. I don't feel a need to be reachable at all hours of the day, nor do I want to be one of the growing number of people holding phone conversations in stores, banks and restaurants. But when I tell friends I don't keep my cell phone turned on, I sometimes receive a mocking response like, "Oh, that does a lot of good." Apparently it doesn't make sense to have a cell phone for my own convenience rather than everyone else's. But I think my life is less frantic, and I'm probably safer on the road than I would be if I were continually groping for a ringing phone on the freeway.

I've been working one or two days a week on site for one of my freelance clients - enough to be included in some of the office activities, but not enough to get to know people very well. Today someone asked me to sign a card for a student employee who is graduating tonight. I stared at the inside of the card, wondering what to write to someone I'd barely exchanged words with. I immediately started thinking of the tired phrases we used to use when signing high school yearbooks: "I don't know you very well, but you seem really sweet...." or "Have a great summer!" Fearing I would eventually scrape bottom with something like "BFF," I wrote a simple note of congratulations and signed my name.

I recently received a $10 Blockbuster gift certificate. That should just about cover one video rental, plus late fees.

I’m starting to adapt to the multiple demands on my time. I woke up at 5 this morning and managed to get an hour in on my computer to meet a freelance deadline before I had to leave my house at 7:15. I was starting to feel cocky about my ability to finish a design, shoot off some e-mails and still make it to work on the other side of town by 8:00. Then I got in my car and realized the tire I had repaired on Friday was going flat again. As I was sitting in the waiting room of the auto repair shop a few minutes later, a woman sitting nearby decided to read the day’s “Dilbert” cartoon to me (and then repeated the part she thought was especially funny). I gave her a courtesy laugh, and wondered how much worse Monday was going to get. (I’ve always thought that only married people should have to endure being read to from the paper.) Sometimes life is more comical than the daily cartoons.

Whenever I see the back of a vehicle covered with bumper stickers, I know that the sayings will be either off-the-wall or vulgar. Nobody ever peppers their car with messages like "I'd rather be quilting" or "I brake for garage sales."

Here's a sign that you've spent too much time on the Internet.

It's 11:15 pm, and there's an insomniac bird singing outside my window. I guess that's what they have to do, since they don't have television.

I'm designing a college commencement program as one of my freelance projects. I commented to the college's marketing coordinator that it's a little stressful to think about how many names are included in the program, and how important it is to make sure each one is correct. She nodded in agreement, then pointed out that some people will save the program as a keepsake (maybe for the rest of their lives).

No pressure.

I finally have high-speed Internet service. Maybe I can now become a regular contributor to this website.

Today's grammar puzzler: What's the past-tense of "pick and choose"?