In Defense of Those Who Drive as a Madman

People will say that I am a scary person to ride with.

That is totally not true.

What people don't understand is that I drive with purpose.

I drive to get from Point A to Point B with minimal distance in between.

Even when I'm not in a hurry, I strive to drive with purpose, because I don't want to be that person I'd yell at if I were trying to get somewhere.

Not that I yell at people. . .

Because I totally don't. . .

But I kinda view going slow(er than the rest of the traffic -- you may well be doing the speed limit, but hey, you're still going slow) as rude and selfish behavior. It's one thing if you're in the right lane.

That's where slower traffic belongs.

But if you're in the left lane, and you're riding even with traffic in the right lane, you're trapping everyone behind you.

Think about it.

Somebody could be going to a job interview.

Somebody could be trying to catch a flight.

Somebody could be going to a doctor's appointment.

Somebody might have to pee.

And for crying out loud, if your cell phone distracts you,

GET OFF OF IT.

This has been a PSA.

Women are Funny

Women are really funny.

And not necessarily 'haha' funny - though some are really a riot - I mean funny 'weird'.

I can say this because I'm a woman.

I'm also blonde, so you really can't pin anything on me.

But yeah, women . . . we get attached to everything.

Point en case: my sister watches a ton of  HGTV.

Personally, I don't see the point in watching shows about things I can't afford (which is basically why I don't watch typical TV shows) but every now and then I catch a show or two while she watches it.

Oh. My. Gosh.

It's bloomin' hysterical.

Seems like on that show where they renovate their house and also look at new houses, the women want to stay and the men wanna move out.

Then it sorta comes out that she's emotionally attached to the house and he is totally cool with leaving.

There are a few episodes where it's the other way 'round, but this seems to be the norm.
Because to men, it's generally a house.
To women, it's a home.

The same goes for cars and other things that generally don't seem that important.
For instance: after I totaled my first car in an accident, my parents bought me another one for Christmas.
I loved that car.
But then the time came when it was highly suggested that I sell it.
I really didn't want to.
Why?
Not because it was a spectacular example of modern engineering of vehicles, but because I was emotionally attached to it.
It was a gift.
It was a second chance.
I'd also spent a lot of money on maintenance, but that wasn't the first thing to pop into my mind.
It was purely emotional.
It wasn't until I saw another car - that I could almost sort of afford - that the emotional attachment broke.
So I guess I basically cheated on my car.
But men don't tend to be like that.
I guess that's because they're normal.

 

Or not. . .

Walking in a Winterless Wonderland

And a fall-less wonderland, as well.

For those of you who live in South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, and the like, you understand what I'm saying.

For those of you who live in other parts of America or the world, let me explain.

We have very odd weather here.

It starts warming up in February.

No lie. 

It starts cooling off in October or November.

We basically have no winter.

I'm 21, and I've seen snow once in my life.

It was around Valentine's Day, and I was babysitting about 20-30 minutes away from my house. The kids' grandmother called and asked if we'd noticed the snow.

I got insanely excited -- 17 years old and it was snowing! Woo hoo!

I was really nervous about driving back into town, because I'd never seen snow, and now I had to drive in it? 

The kids' grandfather followed me into town, which was really nice, but then after running around in the snow like a three year old (which my dad described as "typical college kid behavior"), he wanted me to drive around with him.

I was really afraid of just going 'round town for fun, but it actually wasn't that bad, because no one else here knows how to drive in snow, so no one else was about.

Also, in my biology book, the author mentioned a compound - I think some sort of salty stuff - and called it a "deicer". Well, in my limited knowledge of ice and snow, I first assumed it was a fancy French word for something and pronounced "deh-eye-see-yer".

Um, no, it's "de-icer". A thing that melts ice.

Oh.

Well.

Okay.
This also explains why - when test driving a car - I looked in the dash thing-y (the word escapes me at the moment) and saw this really weird looking object.
It looked like a toothless comb.
I showed it to my dad like "What is this thing??"
He laughed and told me to guess.
Apparently it was an ice scraper.
Oh.

Confessions: I can't sing

I've previously written a post about American Idol, where I poke fun at the fact that the gal I wanted to win didn't. 

And I think I mentioned something about how I'd love to be a judge there, if only to take Simon's spot. 

I overheard something on the radio this morning about the ridiculous amount of money Nicki Minaj and Mariah Carey are being paid to be judges.

My response?

"I'll do it for $25 an hour!"

But really, I'd love to be a judge for a singing contest.

There's only one kinda huge drawback:

. . . I can't sing.

Now let me qualify that.

I have the ability to sing, but I can't sing well, can't carry a tune.

I sing in the car when I'm alone because I don't want to inflict my tone-deafness on other people.

I love them too much to do that to them.

However, Candice Glover -- WHO IS FROM BEAUFORT -- can sing!

So yes, vote for Candice Wednesday night!

An Unexpected Passenger

So I was driving the other day and---

What?

NO! 

I wasn't carjacked!

No, but I did have an unexpected passenger.

I was driving along - and thank God I was at a stop sign because that could very well have caused an accident - I saw something out of the corner of my eye.

I thought it was somebody on the sidewalk, so I just turned to look and-----

I'll take the opportunity to say this: ever see a spider on your windshield and you have to turn on your windshield wipers to see if it's on the outside or the inside?

Well, this beauty wasn't on the windshield, it was on my window, and it wasn't a tiny spider, either.

It was this huge roach.

I screamed and probably made one of those movie-scream faces.

Probably looked a lot like this:

But I dunno; I couldn't see me.

The person pulling onto the road I was on could.

Needless to say, I got that roach out of there.

And the person let me out, because they probably thought I was cray cray.

Which I'm totally not.

Just sayin'.

Oh my word . . .

Sometimes that's all you can say.

Sometimes that's all you need to say. 

Like when your exhaust pipe falls off twice in one day, once when you're pulling out of the driveway to go to class and once in the Chick-fil-a drive through.

Like when your professor doesn't email the class that your 8 AM slow, painful death Crossfit aerobics class is cancelled and you could have slept in another hour.

Like when you have all these great ideas for stories but can't write them because you've just painted your nails and they aren't dry yet and then you forget them.

Yeah. . . 

Oh my word. . .
Good thing Somebody knows what's going on, right?

A Loooooooooooooong Day

Well, I got my work out today . . . at work.
I was asked to come in an hour early to install some blinds.
The instructions said it would take 15 minutes.
Remember that. That's important.
I told my boss it would probably take about half an hour.
. . .
Right . . .
So, the instructions were very poorly written . . . I was given two different types of screws and they never said which screws were for what, so I had to take an educated guess. I think I was right . . .
Anyhow, I had to drill holes before putting in the screws, and I followed the directions which said to use a 1/16 bit. That seemed to be way too small, but only after we forced about five screws into the holes.
Once we got the holder-thingys up, we tried getting the actual blinds in.
Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooh my goshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
These kinds of blinds are cut to your specific needs in Lowe's. Apparently my boss asked for 62". She got 62 3/4".
Doesn't sound like much, but when you're trying to slide a metal box into a fixed space . . . IT MATTERS.
So she says that somebody needs to go back to Lowe's and have it recut. I'm the only one not really needed at the office, so I volunteered. She was fine with it until we remembered my car's still in the shop. She then decided I could use hers, but then she was like "Hey, no, wait, you had that really bad accident a while ago!"
(It was actually three years ago, but I understand her reluctance.)
She made me promise to be very careful and then gave me the keys.
Hahaha, POWER!!!
So, I go to Lowe's and just as I pull up . . . it starts raining.
Great.
I end up lugging this huge, heavy thing into Lowe's, holding it for like half an hour while somebody else's blinds are being cut (which is totally fine; they were there first) and I finally get it cut.
I go back to work and TA-DA! it slides right in.
PRAISE. THE LORD.
So, once the blinds are up, I tried to lower them.
And tried.
And tried . . .
After 20 minutes of messing with it (including taking it down again), we finally got it working.
This whole process took like three and a half HOURS.
Fifteen minutes . . .
Pfft, yeah, right!