Sunday Drivers

Sunday Drivers have the reputation of driving rather slowly, enjoying the scenery, but... not me. I'm ALWAYS late for church, and so I find myself racing to church on Sunday morning because I stayed in bed much longer than I should have.

However, I usually find myself behind a Sunday Driver, and instead of tailgating them, I bite my knuckles and force myself to think cheerful thoughts. After all, I am on my way to church, so it wouldn't do to lay on the horn, and scream "Get out of my waaaaay, you imbecile!!!".

And so I try to think holy thoughts on Sunday. At church. But this becomes a bit hard when someone text messages your cell phone to tell you the packer score. Yes, I couldn't help it; I texted back to find out if we won (we did). I would say, "shame on you, Nick" but he stopped reading my blog long ago; he said I wrote too much to keep track. Hmmmmm... I think I've heard that before... :P Me, talk/write too much?

And Rebecca is the one that has lost her voice; I think that was supposed to happen to me.

Other than that, I came home to the Twilight Zone; my dad had done the dishes (the kitchen was spotless), and was in the process of drying laundry when I walked in the door. Of course, it was not totally on a whim; my mother is off her feet for awhile because a foot injury has flared up. And, if she doesn't stay off her feet now, it will get worse and she'll end up off her feet for weeks.

But it proves something: married men CAN do laundry. Some men argue that by saying, "I do" they are forever rendered incapable of domestic duties, like laundry, and washing dishes. My dad is great about doing dishes; but I've NEVER seen him do laundry before. Hmmmm.... this probably means that I'll have some extra tiny shirts and some tight fitting jeans that I didn't have before. :P maybe we shouldn't split chores, and each do our own... But... its easier to do it all at once, since we have to take clothes to be washed at the Laundromat til the washer is hooked up; which won't happen until the laundry room is finished being built.

Oh, Mom's being off her feet means that I am totally IN CHARGE of Thanksgiving this year. Martha Stewart, eat your heart out. Hehehehe... I am taking over the kitchen and I get to do it all MY way!!! Grooovy. :)

What I usually do around the house is far less glamorous, and totally NOT groovy... I am the great toilet bowl fairy. That is, I clean the bathroom and scrub/sweep the floors and do that hated chore of dusting. Why? Because I don't' have arthritis, so I can get on my hands and knees (and get back up again), and I can climb a ladder a little more easily. However, I usually get sidetracked when I dust the bookshelf and discover a great book and...

Oh well... Speaking of being sidetracked, I had originally decided to write about proofreaders, and their uncanny ability to find errors. And how great that is, but how the author often just doenn't see it. And then, because I think too much, I wonder about how that relates to people. How I see myself, and how other people see me.

Mostly because I always think of my writing as an extension of myself; so for example, if people find my writing boring, then I must bore them as well. In that case, according to Nick, I am boring, I talk to much, and am not worth getting to know, because it would take to much time (his thoughts on reading my blog). Its kind of like thinking you have this really cool outfit on and then looking in a mirror and realizing you spilled coffee on your shirt.... hours ago (and everyone noticed but you).

Of course, everyone has their own opinion, and I guess some of you like reading this thing (or you wouldn't be reading it now). LOL. :P But it is a seriously bumming reality check when a guy that is supposed to dig you thinks you aren't as cool and fun as you would like to think he thinks you are. Hmmm... does that even make sense? Ack. :P

Pleh. All this introspection (I think that's the right word) is giving me a headache. Oh, wait, I already had one. See, I made the mistake of arguing with a friend about something yesterday. Something that is so stupid that it shouldn't even be argued about, but people dedicate endless hours to "expose" the "badness" of the issue in question (PCC, my old and fondly remembered college, spent a whole week on it). Don't ask. I didn't win. But neither did the other girl. But then me and Rebecca discussed it for two hours and came up with some really great points, but, in the end, we both came up with the conclusion that it was hopeless to argue with the other girl, as she didn't care what our opinion was. *sigh*

I think, if people gave that much time, energy, and dedication towards the issue of World Hunger, not one person in this whole earth would go hungry ever again. And so, I learned a valuable point. Don't argue. It gives you a profound headache, stresses you out, and makes you grumpy.

One of my best friends, Dee, called me last night, in a none too cheerful mood to inform me that since Greg had stolen her rent money, and she had no way of coming up with the cash to pay the rent, her crummy landlord was telling her she had to get out of apt. By the end of the weekend. So she has a place to go; her parents... But, then she informed me that she might move to Mexico (with some friends) to get away from things here for awhile. Isn't that a rather drastic move, girl? :( Hmmm... perhaps I could take a road trip and visit her, but I really don't her to move. And I told her that. And she doesn't want to leave her friends; her solution is that we should go with her. I don't know Spanish. This could pose a problem in a Spanish speaking country. I can say, "no comprendo" and "buenos dias" and "muchus gracias" and... okay - I know some basic terms. But I don't know how to ask where a rest room is, and I don't think Mexico has Ben and Jerry's ice cream either. But they do have tamales. And I love tamales. I think a road trip is a possibility. I'll take Diana with me. And a little Spanish-English dictionary, so I can ask where the restrooms are. :P

Really, Dee, if you move, I'm gonna miss you. So think about it. But then again, if that's what you really want to do, then go for it. Opportunities don't always come around like that. It could be alot of fun.

You never know, Rebecca hasn't been able to talk all week; being a voice teacher, this poses a bit of a problem. Maybe we all need change; perhaps we should all go to Mexico. And start an orphanage. Becca, you can teach hearing impaired children (if you can't talk, you can use sign language), I'll teach art (and tell lots of bedtime stories), and Dee can take care of the babies. Diana can ... Okay, this involves waaaay tooo much thinking.

If I had my credit cars paid off, I might actually consider it. And Dee said she wasn't going 'til March. We should both just join the Peach Corps. I think I'll talk to her about it. And I also think, that the pain-killer I took to get rid of the migraine is working... too well. I'm going to bed.