Blog-A-Palooza

I've been making a conscious effort to write more.  It's not always easy to find the time - remember that "About Me" post, and all the hats I wear?  Just like you, right?  Hard to find time for what you WANT to do in between all you NEED to do.

But writing makes me feel good.  Not as good as masturbating, but I think you get my point.  I get to take things that I think about while I drive, or shower, or vacuum - those mind-blanking tasks that let the brain do a little free-form exploration of it's own depths - and put them down in a coherent fashion.  Of course, I could be completely delusional and be completely incoherent and wouldn't know it unless you told me.  You'd tell me, wouldn't you?

I'm no Nikki Knepper (all hail She Who Came Before, Goddess of Honesty In Parenting!) - I don't expect I'll ever get a book out of being me, and frankly, I don't think I have the same angle of insight as Herself.  I do hope you enjoy my ramblings nontheless, I hope you'll comment when you do - or when you don't.  Keep me honest, gentle reader, and let me know if I'm writing shit. The gods know we have enough shit in our lives to deal with, no need for more.

Traffic Tetris

I drive too fast, and not very well, according to those who know me.  It's likely true, at least the "fast" part but I've been blessed by the gods with very few speeding tickets (knock wood), although I've been stopped for speeding and walked away with a seatbelt citation instead (see Double Standards).  I also drive a sizeable vehicle, not some little hard-to-see and hard-to-see-out-of compact car, and have a decent commute back and forth to my job on an interstate. The number of collisions I've had is one, in all my years of driving.  Near misses don't count, using the horseshoes and handgrenades theory.

One night, I had a co-worker from out of town follow me on the interstate so we could go to a show.  Cognizant of the need for him to both keep up and keep me in sight, I refrained from my usual driving pattern.  It made the trip long and frustrating, and I commented to my colleague that I hated "not using ALL the lanes" when I drove.  He looked at me oddly and I had to explain.

Being "That Girl"

A couple of weeks ago, I was on Crackbook and a friend from school started a chat session with me.  Turns out she's started seeing a guy I dated back in high school.  We had a chuckle together, I told her he was always a very sweet guy, I was glad to hear he had divorced his crazy-ass wife and - if it wasn't too weird - tell him I said hello.  She said she would, and we promised to get together soonish for dinner and drinks and that was that.

But being DT and loving time alone in my head, I started to wonder how it came up that he and I had dated.  Maybe she saw me listed as a Mutual Friend on Crackbook.  But in turn that made me think about me, my current relationship with some of my exes, and The Past.

Double Standards

A couple of months ago, we had a party at work. Now, my work is known for throwing parties. We're a partying bunch, and we're a drinking bunch, so it should have been no surprise when - following a celebratory dinner in the office dining hall - some of my colleagues and I decided we just MUST finish off all the open bottles of table wine.

We're also a fairly responsible bunch, so the finishing-of-the-table-wine was followed by the sort of deep and profound solve-the-problems-of-the-world conversations that wine can fuel.  In our case it was more solve-the-problems-of-the-organization, but still...  The kitchen crew, in their inestimable wisdom, took away our wine glasses and brought out glasses of water and airpots of coffee.  The evening progressed.