Red clearly means go

For the record, I fucking hate cyclists.

I understand that hating an entire group of people (without personally knowing everyone in that group) is... um... fuck. I feel like there's a word for just general prejudice that applies to a specific group.....

We're just going to go with "nonracist racism". Because I don't really give a damn what color their skin is, or where they're from, or who their parents are. If they're on a bicycle, wearing spandex jumpsuits and helmets designed to make them look cool (but really only make them look even more douchey), then I hate them.

There's a reason for this, too, beyond my impatience when stuck behind one of them. Let me tell you a story.

Yesterday I was driving home from work. In front of me was, you guessed it, a cyclist. Because I work 9-10 hour days, and was in no mood to drive 15 miles an hour all the way through my neighborhood, and there were no cars in the oncoming lane, I sped up and went around that self-righteous asshole. I ended up just missing the light I was trying to make about a half mile away. So I sat there, waiting for my light to turn green. As the opposing light turned yellow and I slipped Honda into first gear, preparing for my green light (because you should STOP at red lights, and GO at green lights, according to the RULES OF THE ROAD) that son of a bitch peeled around my car, and jumped in front of me. He made it to the other end of the intersection as my light turned green.

Now, don't get me wrong. I am totally down with sharing the road and all that jazz. But I am NOT down with people on bicycles pretending that they're cars, and holding up traffic, and being all pompous and spandexy, if they're just going to ignore the rules when it suits them.

They aren't called The Rules of Driving a Car. They're The Rules of the FUCKING ROAD. You know, that thing that they're riding their wheely, leg-powered, banana-seated nonsense on? Yeah, that's right, cyclists. YOU'RE ON A ROAD. ACT LIKE IT.

I mean, Jesus, they could at least have the decency to stop at a fucking red light (unless a Marta bus is nearby and decides to teach them a lesson... but that would be the last red light they sped through).

You know what? If the cyclists REALLY just insist on never stopping for red lights, that's fine. I can learn to live with that. All I ask is that they ride on the sidewalk, where things that don't have to stop for red lights (like pedestrians, or joggers, or stray dogs) tend to hang out.

The most frustrating thing is that I can't just give the assholes a friendly bumper tap to prove my point.

Jerks. 

Well, fancy seeing you here.

I've been not writing as of late, and it's come to my attention that it isn't a good thing. Even if I'm worried that my blathering on about nonsensical, everyday life is dull to readers/followers/whatever, it's still somewhat therapeutic for me to do it anyway. Plus, getting over the fact that I'm the only one entertained by my ramblings helps me to be less insecure and self-conscious, so there's that, too.

Everything has changed, but it seems it's for the better. I only have a year of school left for my BA, and then a bajillion years until I have my PhD, so so I figured the smart thing to do would be to stop taking classes altogether and just work. Actually, that wasn't my first choice. But the whole "winning the lottery so I can stay in school and not be forced to get a full-time job" thing didn't really pan out. However, I really enjoy my new-ish job, and I love the people I'm surrounded by every day, so I suppose I'll have to find a way to finish school during non-school hours once I'm ready to move forward in that process.

Speaking of the new job, it's stellar. I get to do graphic design that's far too advanced for me (and pull that shit off, if I may say so myself), I get to wear yoga pants and tank tops if I so desire, I don't have to get there until 10ish every morning, and I'm surrounded by liberal, creative, like-minded people 95% of the time. I can see myself becoming an integral part of this business in the next year, and just never leaving (well, by "never leaving" I mean "staying for at least another 10+ years, until starting my own practice").

Other than that, life has been fairly steady. The boyfriend is great. Wait, have I mentioned the boyfriend? Has it been so long since I've written anything that no one knows of The Boyfriend? Well, we met and started dating in August. We had an instant spark, we're totally in love, blah blah fairy tale ramblings blah. Of course, the relationship has its occasional rocky moments, but those just tell me that it's a real relationship. People that are out to use you or take advantage of you rarely allow for disagreements. So, you know, mild occasional bickering is a good thing. It proves that you aren't being courted by a scam artist that has mistaken you for the daughter of a business mogul or heiress to a laundromat fortune, or something.

Anyway, that's where things are now. And things are good.

P.S. I'm taking bets on how long I manage to keep this thing updated regularly.

Few things are worse than a gummy eraser covered in hair

Actually, that's not true. A gummy eraser that's covered in hair and also has rogue bits of tobacco in it would be much worse. Is much worse. Believe me. I know.


- - - - - - - - - 


I've been thinking a lot about life, lately. Not really in the existential, "why do we exist in the universe" way, though. I never really had the time for all of that lofty nonsense. Nor the energy, or even the patience for it, honestly.

No, I've been thinking about life in terms of what it means to have it, what people choose to do with theirs, if anyone under the age of 50 is actually aware that it has an expiration date, and why I feel as though mine is pulling that bullshit where it seems to go so much faster, the less there is, like sand in a (... shit. What the fuck are those called? Sand clocks? Curvy desert watches? The things that tell you when everyone has to stop in Scattergories?).... I'm sure it'll come to me eventually....

But yes. Those are my current dilemmas surrounding the vague as hell concept of "life" (also, I can't possibly express how nice it is to type the word "hell" and not have to delete and then retype it at least three times before I'm able to keep it from becoming "he'll,").

You know, I spend so much time worrying about grades, or money, or the fact that I've been procrastinating on getting my car's alignment taken care of, that I-

HOURGLASS. It's hourglass. That's the word. That's what I was trying to come up with. Haha, fucking "sand clock".

.... As I was saying, I spend so much time stressed to the nines about pointless(ish) bullshit that I end up taking far too many things for granted. But my awareness of that doesn't change the fact that every time I get into my car, I pause to consider if I'm able to take her to the shop that day, decide that I'm far too busy and will do it tomorrow, and then have a brief but well-deserved guilt party because of it. Yes, I know that I have somewhere to live, am getting a college education, have amazing friends and family and a reliable car and a gas stove so I can make s'mores from my kitchen. My life is somewhat stellar, usually. So why is it that I can be both grateful and super stoked about all of those wonderful things, but still have mild moments of panic and frustration because an extra (and quite unexpected) bill or two showed up at my door and my bank account was quite precariously balanced already?

I mean, shit, there are so many people (it's tragic, there are so many people that I know personally) that are in crisis mode, or at least have their foot in the door of a meltdown. I feel for all of them, and am glad to help or offer support in any way that I'm able. Unfortunately, my unconditional offer of support for the people that are important to me won't keep me from worrying about Honda pulling a little to the left, or from feeling like a total dick immediately after my guilt party.
Love, love, love.
-L