The Road Warrior...With Almost As Much Rage As Mel Gibson

Unlike many people with a work commute, I actually quite enjoy my drive time. Gives me a chance to think, listen to tunes, be alone. When I smoked, it was even more awesome. A cigarette, good music and the open road were all I needed to get my head on straight and either prepare for a day of work or unwind from a day at work.

Unfortunately, my time in the car is often RUINED by stupid jerkwads who can't drive and send me into a fit of rage.

I am usually a pretty even keel person. I don't fly off the handle too easily. It takes a lot to send me over the edge, but when I do, I TOTALLY lose it. I realize this isn't the healthy way to deal with problems, but it's how I roll...and I've tried to change, but there's just no changing it without a bunch of therapy that I can't afford. For some reason, though....when I'm in the car....it takes NOTHING to get me to this point of sheer, blind rage. I've dropped a countless number of bad words in my car. If I had a dollar for every one, I could balance the federal budget. I've cursed at everyone. Probably even you.

There are certain people who just should not be allowed to drive or should have their licenses revoked when they do these certain things. I want my relaxing drive time back.

1. Tailgaters

I hate you.

If you are legitimately trying to pass me and waiting for an opportunity to do so, that doesn't bother me as much; however, if you are just riding my ass for no apparent reason and have plenty of opportunities to pass and do not, then you deserve it when I "see a squirrel" and slam on my brakes. I have nothing to lose. Look at my car. Are you sure you want to tailgate me? It's dangerous and stupid, and if you're in that much of a hurry, then pass me already. I can't properly jam out and dance in my car with you on my ass...watching and judging me. You are destroying my road decompression time, and thereby destroying my day.

2. I'm in a hurry....no I'm not.

I don't understand it when people pass me up, only to get in front of me and go slower than I was previously going. Are you in a hurry or not? Make up your freaking mind. We are driving, not playing musical freakin chairs, asshat!

3. Any slower, and you'd be going backwards.

Geezers often drive slowly. Too slowly. If you are at the point where you can't drive faster than 40mph in a 55mph zone (or faster)...then you need to not be driving anymore.

Also, people who are hauling things or doing their farm work during peak traffic times. I am trying to get to work on time or get home at a reasonable hour. You couldn't have done this ANY EARLIER or ANY LATER? You really had to move this trailer at 5pm on a weekday? Really? I hate you.

4. Next time I see you, you're going to be a greasy skid mark on the pavement.

I always say a little prayer when someone on a motorcycle or crotch rocket passes me going at least a hundo. Obviously they are already brian damaged...perhaps from previous head injuries sustained in crashes? Slow down. People have a hard time seeing 2-wheeled vehicles anyway, let alone when they come up on you from out of nowhere and then pass you like you're standing still.

Really though, I think driving super fast is crazy and stupid and a good way to get someone killed (but probably not yourself, because stupid people often have some kind of cat-like, nine-lived indestructability). You don't have to go thirty miles over the speed limit if it's not an emergency. The grocery store will still be there even if you get their five minutes later.

5. People who don't understand right-of-way.

You obviously passed the test at the DMV. If you don't know the rules, how did you get a license? STUDY. Two way stops are THE WORST for this. Nobody knows what to do, and then people try to let each other go, which causes more confusion, then everyone tries to go at the same time...then by the time you figure it out, there are cars coming. LEARN THE RULES! There's nothing that makes me angrier than when it's someone else's turn and they try to wave me through. You don't know the rules, and I don't trust you. How do I know you won't hit me? Ugh. So, for this reason, I try to avoid two way stops whenever possible.

6. Here in the U.S., we drive on the right side of the road.

This is usually a dude thing, I'm sorry to say. I guess their penises are so large it requires them to take up both lanes of highway by driving in the middle of the road. Seriously though...stay on your side. I think it'll be ok.

7. Turning lanes are for turning...not driving.

Please don't drive in that lane for miles and miles. That's not what it's there for, and you're going to cause an accident.

8. Are you gonna stop or not?!?

The only time you should slam your brakes is in an emergency (if you have anti-locks)...you should actually begin to slow down before you reach your stop sign or red light, you dumbass. But if you want to jack up your car, be my guest.

9. Trying to pass me? Well, we can't have that! Let me speed up!

If someone is trying to pass you, the more courteous thing would be to slow down a bit so they can safely get around you without tailgating. Apparently some people enjoy tailgaters, though...because when you attempt to pass, they suddenly realized they're late or something and decide to accelerate. So, either you have to gun it and go 90 to get around them, or you have to slow down and get back behind them. Either way, they are assholes.

10. Get off your freaking phone.

There is no excuse. If you are incapable of multi-tasking, then you need to pull over to take your phone call, or wait until you arrive at your destination, or set yourself up with blue tooth or some sort of hands-free thing. Everyone thinks they can drive while talking on their cell phones...some people even SAVE phone conversations for WHILE THEY ARE IN THE CAR. Very few people are actually capable of doing this successfully. I know, we're all guilty of it. But seriously, it needs to stop, because most people just simply cannot talk on the phone and drive at the same time. Most of the things on this list occur when people are talking on cell phones.

Those are just some of the many things I've screamed about in my car...or beat on my steering wheel because of. It's enough to make me never want to leave the house. People are trying to make it so that the driving age is increased. I don't think that's necessary at all. I think bad drivers come in all ages, and whether or not you increase the age, these assholes will still be on the road...lurking....waiting to ruin everyone's decompression drive time...and waiting for their ears to turn red from my verbal lashing.

Long Time No See

Hello again, everyone. It's been a while.

Just wanted to assemble a brief blog today just to let you guys know that I'm still here and haven't given up on this or anything. Here's what's been going on lately...in no particular order.

It was Memorial Day Weekend....family was in town. Nieces and nephews were in town. Sisters and their significant others were in town. David did some delicious barbecuing. We drank too much and ended up singing songs (well...I think that may have just been me and David. I don't remember. It was fun, though). Good family holiday get-together fun. I'm not ever going to interrupt family holiday get-together fun to write a blog...I don't care what that blog may be about. It's not as important as family time.

So...before the Memorial Day festivities began and my family got here, I spent that Friday evening/Saturday watching Lost Season 4. Then after everyone left...Lost Season 5. I'm nursing my enormous crush on Jeremy Davies...

Ok, I know...I know. He's totally not my type (except that he usually has facial hair). I like giant, scruffy, viking-esque dudes who look like they can burp the alphabet and would kick your ass if you said something bad about Lemmy. Those are my typical crushes. It's my general rule of the swoon. Techno Viking = Hawt. Zakk Wylde = Hawt. Russell Crowe circa Mystery, Alaska = Hawt. I can't help myself. It's not something I can control. If I could, I would.

Which is why my crush on Jeremy Davies baffles me tremendously. I don't know why it exists or how it developed, but every single time I see him in a movie...I want to make him some rice and gravy and give him a big hug. But...like...in a crushy way. Weird, right? I know!

Even though he always plays the totally UNsexy, quiet weirdo character....it's ALWAYS there for me. I ALWAYS would. Even in Saving Private Ryan, where he is such a horrible coward...I'd still. I'd still. Even in Secretary with that bad, bad sex scene (THE HAND!)....I'd still. Even in Rescue Dawn where he's immaciated and horrifying looking...I'd fry him some chicken, make him a milkshake, and I'd still. Like, when I saw him in Helter Skelter, which was AWFUL...I totally got the appeal of how so many people fell under Charlie Manson's charismatic spell. ...oh, and I'd still.

So anyway, I'm finishing up Season 5 of Lost tonight. His character, Daniel Faraday, is totally about to croak. I can tell. Which will not make me a happy camper. And, at this point in time....not making me a happy camper = me throwing something through a car window, howling at the moon and running into the forest to be with the other crazy night beasts.

I quit smoking (in case you couldn't tell). It's the third day today. My second attempt at quitting ever. So like...Volume 2, Issue 3. Last time I was living with my friends, and I remember laying on their couch in the fetal position for an entire day while crying and eating a half gallon of ice cream. This time, I want to tear your face off and throw it at passing motorists. I want to yell at people. I want to spin around like the Tazmanian Devil and wreak havoc everywhere I go. I want to rip my hair out and set it on fire, then chew my arms off and throw them in that fire as well. I want to destroy priceless items. I want to make people cry. I want to piss in someone's cheerios. I want to run outside, smear dirt on my face, and scream at old people. My skin is crawling. I want a cigarette so badly...so so so badly. But I won't. So yeah...day 3. It's actually not as bad as I thought it would be...hahaha.

Everyone wish me luck as I continue my journey of nicotine withdrawals into even darker crazier wacko craziness. Yaaaaaay. I'll try to collect my thoughts tomorrow to get a blog out for you guys. In the meantime, stay gold. ....mmm....Camel Turkish Gold......NO!

Defensive Sleeping

Most of you in serious relationships and/or marriages probably know this all too well...

Sometimes sleeping with your significant other (I'm not talking about sexy times...just sleepy times) can be lovely and comforting, but for some, it can also cause severe bodily harm or deep emotional scars.

Let me preface this by saying that I'm not exactly a sound, motionless sleeper myself. I do a lot of tossing and turning, shifting around, elbow jamming in the back, leg crossing (it's weird, but when I sleep on my back, I prop one foot up atop the other bent knee...like sitting cross-legged while laying down. It's super bizarre) etc. But I've had the occasional bit of bad luck with the significant other sleepage, and I've heard stories from friends who have as well, so here's a few of the worst offenders:

Let's start with the Sleepwalker. They are the worst. The incidents are usually scary at the time, but hilarious in hindsight. Especially when they involve sleepwalking with urination. Especially when that urination happens in a very inopportune place like a closet, a chair, a dresser drawer, in the oven, etc. They say you should never wake a sleepwalker because it's traumatizing for them. Ok then...let me go pee in your oven and see how you react, you PC dumbass. Not only will I wake the sleepwalker's ass up, but my wakeup tactic will probably involve screaming, kicking and/or punching. (if you've never tried...it's often very very difficult to wake a sleepwalker, plus it's hard to remain calm when someone is juggling knives or attempting a flight of stairs or peeing all over the house).

Then there's the Sleeptalker. In my experience, it's always a bunch of nonsense gibberish...not really like it is on the movies where people divulge deep, dark secrets or embarrassing stuff. It's just a random word thrown into a bunch of "mmmahhha whaahsithsi cohhhh." Usually pretty harmless, but still strange and potentially annoying.

And that brings me to the Snorer, which, depending on the volume, pitch and timbre of the snore, can either be quite soothing or the worst offender on this list. Sometimes it's nice and repetitive and melodic and can actually help you sleep...like a washing machine. But damn the snores with the rattles, gurgles, pops, and sudden bursts of insane volume that not only wakes you up, but startles you so much that you have to make a bathroom trip. Those snore bursts usually wake up the snorer as well, but they don't realize that...they think YOU woke them up with your bathroom escapades. Because everyone sooo loves getting up out of a dead sleep to walk along the cold floor and try not to run into anything or stub a toe on their way to the bathroom. Maybe you turn a light on in that scenario. I never do. Turning a light when it's still dark outside after a heavy sleep is too much like morning death. I can't handle it. It's jarring and horrendous. As bad as the snore burst - perhaps worse.

The Sweater is up next. In the wintertime, this is fantastic. When your bedroom is warmer than 60 degrees, though...not so great. And, if for some reason the Sweater also likes to snuggle, morning showers rather than night ones become an absolute necessity. Nothing says love like being glued together by heat and sweat throughout the night. Basking in the ambiance. Basking in the ambiance.

Finally, there's the Wrestler. Not "restless" but "wrestler." Restless is not a strong enough word to describe some of the crazy street fighting that can happen in the bed. It's a guerrilla war zone. Hand to hand combat. Better file down your toothbrush and make a shank, because it gets ugly in there. They sit up and then come crashing down, slamming their head into your face or body. They flail about, sending flying elbows and fists all over you like a hail of gunfire. They kick. They shove. They don't stop until they've taken up the entire bed with their shenanigans. And, worst of all, they sleep like baby rosie-cheeked cherub angels the entire time. Bastards.

These things usually spark some sort of retaliation on the part of the poor significant other who has to endure it. (Unless they, themselves are cherub angels...in which case...stop reading this blog.) So then of course there's some name-calling, aggressive eye-for-an-eye action, more elbow throwing...etc.

I think what I may start doing instead is propping myself up slightly and staring at him with cold burning hatred for as long as it takes. Like the scary possessed lady on Paranormal Activity did in that one scene, except I won't actually get out of bed because I'm lazy and am not actually possessed by a demon (ok, like five days a month, tops). Maybe just a light touch on the face to wake him up. Then when he wakes up, act like I had no idea I was staring at him like I was trying to eat his soul...

...It's just something weird I do in my sleep.