Tuesday, March 19, 2024 02:04

?>

Archive for August, 2009

a plea

Monday, August 24th, 2009

So, I am posting everywhere I know, to help out one of the most amazing people I know.
A dear friend of mine, Leanna Renee Hieber, has a book that is coming out tomorrow. The book is called The Strangely Beautiful Tale of Miss Percy Parker. Her short summation of the book is that it is like Victorian Ghostbusters. Which it is, but it has romance and suspense, and all sorts of good stuff. I am reading it right now, and am just past halfway through it and find it delightful. Which, if I didn’t I wouldn’t be recommending it.
This is her first novel, and a dream that has been a long time coming for her. Her first weeks sales are the most important, so if you can get to a bookstore or log in to Amazon.com and get the book, she will be eternally grateful. Oh, and it’s $6.99. Less than the price of two lattes.
That’s my pimpin’ for today. Get thee to a bookstore!

on the road

Sunday, August 16th, 2009

So, prior to living here, I loved to drive. Sometimes, if I was having a bad night, or if I had plans that were canceled, or if I was just plain bored, I would get in my car and drive. Just drive around, with my thoughts and some music, and things were fine.
However, I moved here and all of htat changed. I would get behind the wheel and panic. Other drivers terrified me, and getting behind the wheel was torture. I had my first full out panic attacks behind the wheel on Minnesota streets and highways. I chalked it up to not having a car for my first couple of years out here.
I realized, however, that I was and am fine driving other places. Chicago, my home state of Michigan, Ohio, New York. I talked to a friend with a similar affliction, who was not from here and moved away. She realized that her driving anxiety was exclusivley tied to Minnesota.
I started to think about it. She was right. Now, I know that a lot of native Minnesotans are going to be pissed off reading this. They tend to get their panties in a twist the minute you start pointing out flaws in their beloved state. Now, I personally know my hometown has plenty of flaws, so when people make generalizations, I know there is a grain of truth to it, or the stereotype wouldn’t exist. Anyway, when I moved here, I had to take a test to transfer my license. I admit I failed the first time. I misread a question, not seeing a “no.” The question made no sense when I misread it, and since the test is computerized there was no going back. I went back the next day, aced the test and had my license. Now, I often wonder if natives have to go through the same thing. I guess not, since there are frightening abuses of the rules of the road that happen so often that someone following the correct rules are a rarity.
For instance, merging. Minnesotans are notoriously terrible mergers. Somehow getting onto an expressway befuddles all involved and often brings traffic to a standstill. Pick your spot and go means nothing. It turns into this passive-aggressive tangle of back and forth, “no you first, ” and braking. The same tangle translates to the four-way stop. Normally one would think the first person at the stop has the right of way. If two arrive, the car to the right goes first. Nope. Again there is this tangle, with cars slowly inching forward wondering if they whould just go, or if they should let the other car go, both trying to be polite (or “Minnesota nice”) and wanting to just go. Something simple turns exhausting. Heaven forbid you should obey the actual rules…you shall be inflicted with much fist shaking…or worse.
The seed for this post started on my way home from the co-op today. I was having a pretty good day up until this point. I had procured the makings for my meals and snacks, and was sipping on a kombucha tea. I approached an intersection of two side streets. There was a car coming from a way back, and a couple was crossing towards me. I stepped into the intersection and crossed. There was plenty of time for the forementioned car to stop leisurely. As I finished crossing, I hear a snarly lady’s voice yell, “there was no stop sign.” i was flabbergasted. Pedestrians have the right of way at intersections unless there is a pedestrian signal stating otherwise. I stuttered for a moment, in shock of this jerk. After what felt like an eternity to me, I stammered, “Pedestrians have the right of way.” I managed to stop there. I wanted to yell something about checking her driver’s manual, or shouting a string of profanities. Instead, I continued home. I probably wouldn’t have taken it so personally if this sort of thing weren’t so commonplace. Yet, whenever I go for a run, I get nervous that someone blowing through a stop sign or ignoring pedestrian rights is going to take me out. It’s a drag.
I could go on, citing lots of road rules that people regularly ignore…but I shall stop. I got most of what I needed to off my chest. In short…be nice to pedestrians, pick your spot and go, and if you arrive fist…just go. Don’t inch towards me, or I just might cut you. For serious.

funny story

Saturday, August 1st, 2009

So…Thursday. We were planning to go to Valleyfair, but it was cold and rainy so that was canceled. I thought it would be good to go to the chiropractor after work and get the old neck adjusted and follow up on my neurologist visit. I was rather tired, and a little spacey both because of working my tail off all week and because I’d just started a new med to help ease my headaches and neck pain. We wrapped up at the chiro, and needed dinner. I mentioned I’d been craving a calzone from Old Chicago. G said it wouldn’t be a big deal to head over there. yay!
We arrived, sat, ordered, and I really had to pee. I told G I was going to run to ladies. I headed to the restroom, went in, hit the first stall, and sat to do my business. Someone else entered. I heard peeing, and it was not coming from the stall next to mine. I realized I was in the men’s room. I waited for the dude to finish, and as soon as I heard the door, I finished up and bolted. I got back to the table and told G I’d just used the men’s room. He said, “You know they have signs. With pictures and everything.” i replied that I realized such, but somehow, I totally missed this.
I somehow didn’t see the sign, or all the urinals I passed to get to the stall. I was on total autopilot, and was on the wrong route. Oops. I still feel a little dirty…and silly. Despite my spaciness, my calzone was delish, and I had enough garlic on my breath to down and vampires in the tri-state area.