Being wrong can be outright humiliating. But being wrong about something, towards someone who's shear existence is based on boasting their own mistaken "knowledge", can leave you feeling suicidal. I'm often wrong, and I'm typically the first person to chuckle and admit it - but I'm hiding desperately, contemplating moving to a small country for a week or so - where I can make my way pouring mimosas for a colony of skateboarding lepers who listen to the band Great White while playing with pyrotechnics --- anything, so that I don't have to wake up tomorrow and apologize for my mistake. I feel like I'm 4 years old again, and I've just broken my mother's precious box - the only momento she had of her dead father.......those few seconds where you scramble for some superglue and pray with all of your might. Unfortunately, superglue doesn't suffice when you're dealing with a living soul. Hmmmm...maybe some chocolate will work. Hopefully in my (sure to be) uneasy slumber, I'll be able to figure out a way to make all well - or at least feel better about sucking it up and saying sorry....oh well, at least there's no chance I'll glue my fingers together with this blunder.