Pet Peeves: "media" types and politics

The Rosie O'Donnell/Rush Limbaugh type (yes, it comes in both conservative and liberal forms): This is the I believe one thing and one thing only, and you must believe the exact same thing as I, or I will accuse you of having bad hair/berate someone with Parkinson's disease--publically.

Oh please Rosie/Rush, feed me all my thoughts and opinions. I bow down to your superior knowledge on . . . hmm. . . . on Tom Cruise/oxycotin (that also might be a frightening combination).

Then there's those who cannot attempt anything more than a long, overdramaticized, overpublicized, whiny ass emotional plea (the good old pathos for Michael Moore and Laura Ingle). Yes, a never-ending string of unsupported emotional babble will definitely sway my view. Of course I don't need you to support anything you say with actual facts. All you have to say is that Bush is murdering our youth to support big business/Democrats turning America into Upper Mexico and replacing English with Spanish, and I will believe!

Oh crap! I'm being torn asunder (always wanted to use that word)! I must believe both, for they are absolutely, positively 100% right, and if I don't believe both I will be roasted like a marshmallow on a campfire, charred and feathered. . .

I think I will go make some smores now.

This I Believe

NPR does a weekly series called "This I Believe," where people record a short essay that starts off with "I believe" and then fill in the rest. I decided I would do my own, written rather than oral, version of this.

I believe everyone should drive like me. I have long believed this, despite the fact my husband would argue the opposite (okay, so I did just get a speeding ticket [I will save that story for another blog]).

For one, I do not drive slow in the fast lane. I actually pass the person I intend to, and then get over. This also means that I do not slow down when I am passing someone on the interstate, nor do I hover next to the car I am passing, blocking all people behind me.

I do not slow down on an ACCELERATION ramp, nor do I come to a complete stop at the end of said ramp. I actually continually speed up until I merge with traffic.

I do not drive 10 or more miles under the speed limit, blocking all traffic behind me on a two lane road. Additionally, once I get to a place where there is a passing lane or just a place to pass, I do not suddenly speed up 20+ miles per hour (the other day I actually followed a car on a two lane road going 45 miles per hour. When we got to a passing lane, I ended up doing 90 to get around the car!).

I do not suddenly decide at an intersection that, while in the right turn lane, I want to go left, then cut across 3 lanes and 2 turn lanes of traffic to make the left turn.

I believe that certain traffic "phenomenon" are inevitable, no matter how much they annoy the crap out of me. These include:

1. Anyone who drives a small and/or old truck will drive incredibly slow.
2. Anyone who drives a large truck or suv will attemp to run over anyone who is in their
way.
3. The handicap sticker (I probably don't need to say more). The outcomes for this
encounter are bipolar: the driver is either a maniac or believes they are driving a
vehicle that goes no faster than a lawnmower. Ironically, this also goes for the
sports car
4. If it looks like a piece of crap, it will attempt to break all time-space continuum laws,
i.e. no windows, no worries.
5. The Lexus--the "I'm an overpriced, law abiding car. I will not go above the speed limit,
and you are stuck looking at my little Lexus symbol for mile after mile" (Okay, so I
have an odd aversion to the Lexus. I wonder if multiple would be Lexi?).

I could probably go on and on about the whole driving thing, but I'm getting a little sleepy. Anyway, if anyone has any of their own driving insights/complaints to add, feel free!

I Quit

It has now been six months and counting. I quit cold turkey. By the time I did, I was so ready. In fact, there weren't even any withdrawal symptoms--just relief. Everytime I went to that place, time became all distorted. When I would finally emerge into the daylight, what had seemed like five minutes had actually been hours. Huge chunks of my life gone that I could never recover; new wrinkles, gray hairs--I was aging without even knowing where the time went. My marriage suffered as my husband sat at home, waiting and waiting for me to return. I thought it was going to be the easy way out, so convenient and wonderful. Instead, it became a surrealistic nightmare: children screaming everywhere, dead fish floating in soupy green tanks, rows and rows of colored liquids and powders, but never the one I was looking for. Toward the end, I was always in a hurry, but no matter how fast I tried to get my fix and go, I was always caught right before the door, stuck, seeing the way out with no hope of actually exiting. In November, I finally realized I had had enough and it just wasn't worth the pain anymore. So I walked away from Super Wal-Mart forever.

The inagurating noninsightful insight

I really am wealthy. Everyday I get at least one email from some European or African lawyer type saying I have inherited a lot of money. Some even inform me of my nobility. Consequently, if everyone would please refer to me as "your royal highness," I promise to equally dole out my monopoly money (but, I am keeping all the railroads and the utilities--those are the real money makers!). I am positive that I am the only one receiving these emails, so, if you run into me, please bow down. If I have my sword with me, I might knight you (or make you a dame, whichever it's supposed to be). Please make sure you remember my stature when approaching me, for it would be just awful if I had to make you a peon. For those of you who have achieved the same status as I (which I know none of you possibly could have--I mean, really, there are only so many multimillion dollar princess inheritors in the world), we really need to form an alliance. This alliance, from hence forth, shall be known as Wonderful Highness Always Terrific (or WHAT), and will worship Paris Hilton.