Wednesday, April 30, 2008

The Big Two-One

I seem to find myself on the cusp of officially being an adult. Sure, 18 is the first 'step' to adulthood, but let's be honest - 18 came and went. And who can believe how fast? Now I'm staring ahead at the big two one. The final checkpoint before I am officially and legally my own responsibility.

What a frightening concept. Especially that last part. You know, the part about being officially and legally my own responsibility. Think about it, that's pretty heavy. Up until then, and in this case saying "for my entire life" isn't an exaggeration, I have been taken care of and have never been in any real danger of screwing up my life when I make mistakes. Heck, I'm in way over my head in credit card debt, and when I say way over my head I do indeed mean it. I've never been in a wreck while I was driving, and I don't pay for my own insurance/cell phone bill/gas/rent. And I know that as soon as the 16th hits doesn't mean that my parents are going to cut me off completely. But it's still quite a stepping stone.

Of course, I'm incredibly excited. 21! Heck yes, let's not beat around the bush, I mean I've been waiting for this for...oh, 21 years? Okay, maybe not quite (unless you want to get literal) but at least for the last year I've been looking forward to 21 more than I did when I was 18, 16, or 13.

The fact that the 17th of May won't mean unbelievable change in my life doesn't change the fact that it's weighing a little heavy on me.

I feel as though I should be more 'adult' than I am. I also feel as though I'm running out of excuses to not be.

You know that old 'saying', "I don't want to grow up, I'm a Toys-R-Us kid"? Yeah, see the thing is...I took that to heart. More than you can know. I still don't want to grow up. I'd rather sit at home and watch TV than work to earn a living to support myself, pay rent, buy a car, put gas in aforementioned car, buy groceries, pay off credit cards, have a cell phone, buy furniture, pay vet bills, doctor bills, dentist bills, insurance, and anything else that I'd never have even imagined having to pay for.

I don't know exactly how to want to grow up. I suppose, at least in some inadvertent way, the simple fact that I'm mulling it all over shows that I at least have an interest in it...But who's to say, really?

I feel like I've lost track of my thoughts. Maybe that's a sign that I should wrap it up.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

Plans Shmans

So sometimes it becomes painfully apparent that I actually have little to no control over my life. Don't take me too literally - I'm not saying bad choices = no responsibility, or that if I want to get up at 8am it's someone else's fault if I didn't.

No, I mean the more irritating and day-ruining kind of non-control. Like, when you're driving along and all is well, you pull a U, and suddenly my car is making a terrible CHUG-CHUG-CHUG-GRRR-GRRRRRR-GR! Or you know...something akin to it. And when you press down on the gas, your car is like, "No dude...ain't happenin'. Don't you hear that AWFUL NOISE I'M MAKING?!!!"

Yeah. This happened to me today. And I have proof! And by proof, I mean the above picture. And I totally had bigger and better plans. You know, the kind that don't involve pulling my car into the nearest community and parking in front of the house.  The kind that didn't have me waiting for about half an hour for my mom to come rescue me, and another half hour after that for the tow truck to come get my poor little car. (Which, if you're wondering, cost a ridiculous $92.50) The tow man said he thought it sounded like I blew my muffler --I later found out that I didn't blow my muffler. Instead, I broke a spark plug. Or something like that. Whatever. Anyway, moving along.

After my car was towed away, my mom and myself made a trip to Applebees. If you know me, or if you continue to read this blog, you'll already know or quickly learn that Applebees is one of my favorite places to eat.

I'm going to chase a rabbit here for a sec because I can and because I want to. And because I was discussing it with mom just the other day.

I eat for fun. 

Yeah, not a great thing. But also not quite what you think. I don't eat ALL the time, or even WAY TOO MUCH whenever I do eat. However, if you ask me where I want to go eat at, I'm going to pick somewhere I've been before. Somewhere I've been before and had a good time at. I tend to think of places to eat based on experience. For example, I love going to Applebees because I eat there a lot with my family. It's also one of the places that my dad and I have intellectual/political/religious/in-depth/worthwhile conversations. Which I always enjoy. So yeah. Applebees = love.

Here's one of the reasons why Applebees ROCKS. My mom ordered water, she always orders water. She cracks a joke about having lemon wedges to make it fancy. What does the waiter bring out?

THIS:: *see below*


Anyway, we did that. That was fun. But for the most part this entry was meant to be about how you can be going along with your everyday life and suddenly BOOM! It doesn't matter what you've planned, how far in advance you've planned it, how WELL you've planned it, or how well you didn't. Your plans have officially been altered. 

It can be very very irritating.

Monday, April 21, 2008

What I SHOULD be doing is...

Listening in class.

But I'm not. I've tried. For serious. But when I get here and everyone starts talking, something happens. I bet you're dying to know what I'm talking about. I can feel it, no -- that doesn't say enough. I can TASTE that you want to know what I mean.

Here it is.

They open their mouths...I turn off my brain. 

I'm not sure how or when it started happening, but I think it prrrrobably happened when I began to realize that a lot of the talking is actually absolutely irrelevant. And that's a big problem for me. Thus, I do other things. Write, think about stuff I want to buy, worry about how much debt I'm in, contemplate politics, wish I played an instrument, think about how I could be home sitting in front of the TV and learning just as much as I am in here with my brain shut off and my fingers clacking on the keyboard with little regard for whether or not I look like I'm paying attention.

Now I pause, take a drink of water, continue to look filled with nothing but disinterest.

I really did that, by the way. It wasn't a little fictional input. Just if you cared. I decided that you might. I just gave you insight. Personal insight. How cool is that?

Here's the thing. We get to class, sit down, 'mingle' a little (or, in my case, criticize those who actually ARE mingling and judge them harshly and with little to no remorse. Which, I admit, isn't completely fair. I mean, I don't like to be judged, but that Golden Rule thing finds itself lost on me when I'm sitting in this class. That and I'm fairly certain that they too look at me sitting in the corner, clacking on my keyboard, and think "Gee, what a stuck up girl she is! She's not even paying attention!"). THEN we talk about writing news.

I like writing news. Really, and I'm not meaning to be sarcastic. Last semester, I really enjoyed the writing news portion of our class.

BUT.

In this class, it seems like writing news = anything you want to talk about. Including, but not limited to, movies, TV shows, politics, personal opinions, "my first chapter", and LASIK.

Lasik?? = Creative WRITING?

Yeah, so call me a cynic.

It's true.

And now, unfortunately, my laptop is nearing the end of it's battery-life. So it looks like my insensitive disinterested clacking has come to a premature end.

That's all.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Elephant Painting

Guys, I was literally amazed when I saw this. It's absolutely incredible. I didn't even know what to think. I watched the whole thing with a huge smile on my face.

Okay, so - this business all happened in Thailand. Apparently these elephants also hold two Guinness world records.

I'll be honest. I actually don't have anything else to say besides "WOW."




Check out more of my favorite videos at my YouTube channel!

Friday, April 4, 2008

No, I want no part in your death-wish!

There are certain things that are acceptable when one is operating a motor vehicle. For example, when driving, if you should find yourself in a spot of trouble then please, by all means, pull your vehicle onto the shoulder and proceed as the situation dictates.


However, once on the shoulder, you must account for the severe difference in speed between your parked (and therefore zero mph) car and the ones occupying the road - 60-80mph, and I'm being generous.
Now, if you're an intelligent person, you'll wait for a break in traffic and/or gradually pick up speed in the shoulder. Unless you have a death wish.

I ran into one such person,  the kind with a death wish - not the kind with a brain, yesterday.
I'm driving on I-20 (the same fateful road where I was brutally attacked by a pigeon - the kind with a deathwish, not the kind with a brain), following my dear friend Heather to Cedar Hill so we can catch Shutter. I've got my window down and I'm rockin' out to Pretty Baby and all is well. That is, until someone who's in the shoulder decides that by-golly now is the time to merge! Merge, I tell you! I believe that someone in front of us tapped their brakes and intended to let the guy in, probably not knowing that this certain someone couldn't exactly find the gas pedal like normal people, but instead of not letting people drive for him, he decides heck yes, now is the only chance! 

I was slightly distracted by another...ahem...driver, who was busy speeding past me on the left and darting in front of an 18 wheeler (which, let me tell you - if you didn't already know - is not the vehicle you want to get into an 'argument' with). When I glance back in front of me I see shoulder-man cut back into my lane, subsequently causing ALL of us to literally stand on our brakes. I'm actually surprised there wasn't some sort of pile-up, but there wasn't - just barely. I swerved into the shoulder to avoid rear-ending Heather, and I'm glad I did because when my car finally stopped, in the shoulder I was a little past her bumper. And my initial swerving may also have prevented the car behind me from ramming into me.

Yeah.

It was an awesome experience.

If anyone is driving on i20 any time soon, please let me know if you see my heart and/or my stomach. Both, I believe, fell out and are as of yet unaccounted for.

On the positive side...Shutter was good. Creepy. Yep, good and creepy.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Playing in Traffic

I seem to find myself short of patience when it comes to traffic. Especially heavy traffic. I get very irate, I gesture, I curse, I roll my eyes. Yeah, the whole nine.
In fact, I've come to believe -Nay, I've grown to accept- that this is what will ultimately cause my 'untimely' death.

To momentarily change the subject...how can someone have an untimely death?
I mean, if someone dies...wasn't that their 'time'? Maybe I've got it all wrong.
It's been known to happen.
Frequently.

Regardless of this fact, I don't see myself changing my ways. I try, I really do. But it just doesn't take anything for me to get...all hot and bothered, if you will. 

Honest. 

I mean, picture this: I'm driving along, rockin' out to my favorite tunes, and all is well. I'm not in a hurry. I've got no deadline. But then some jerk cuts in front of me. When there is plenty of room behind me. And without signaling. And that's all it takes for me to be ready to roll down my window, all while giving my best "I hate you with my eyes" glare, and angrily wave the ever-popular middle finger. One of these days, I'm sure, I'll do that to the wrong person. You know, I'll do that to the 312lb (all muscle, of course) guy who just found out his wife is cheating, then went to the office and found out he'd been framed for embezzlement and was fired, then got a flat on the way home and is now not only driving on a spare but hanging on to his sanity by a mere proverbial thread. Then I come along and honk at him for what? For NOTHING. For changing lanes like any good American has the God given right to do. And that's just, I tell you, that's just it! And it's a good thing he still has his shotgun in the back for when he and his buddies go hunting, and by golly he's just going to step the f*** out of his car and blow my finger waving ass away.

That'll learn me. 

And another thing. I can't really afford to be the pushy jerk that I am. I have a...shall we say 'unique' car. Lots of easy-to-remember/easy-to-recognize features to it. So really, even if dumped/fired/shotgun wielding man doesn't follow me to the right house, the chances of him seeing me later on in life and thinking "Hey, that's that little snotball that flipped me the bird!" are unfortunately quite high. Especially since I live in a relatively small town.

So there it is, folks. I'm doomed. I'm going to hack off the wrong person. And in the wrong part of town. And on the one day where they actually would find it necessary to teach me some manners. Physically.
One day. Perhaps soon.

I really should work on my road rage.