Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Hey all!! I'm not dead. Really. Just wanted to let you all know life is good in Cooterland. I spent Christmas Eve with my friends and Christmas Day and night with my dad and stepmom. It was a wonder-full long weekend and I hope everyone else had a phenomenal holiday as well. My apologies for not being around... right now I'm trying to kick the sh*t out of my first cold of the season, plus I have an obligation that has been put off for far too long and unless I take care of it, my new year will be rung in with an albatross 'round my neck and a giant 'L' for loser stamped on my forehead. Talk amongst yourselves, know I love y'all, and I'll resume posting in January.
(Keech, I still do. Of course I do.)
Who dat snappin' back? |
(Keech, I still do. Of course I do.)
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Winter Blunderland
Ah, snow days... when you were a kid and didn't mind getting up at 5:30 to watch the news in hopes the Powers That Be would announce NO SCHOOL. Alas, now it's all about rising at 5:30 to shovel out from this heavy wet blanket in order to get to your oh-so important job that your boss thinks is really worth risking life and limb. Ok, maybe if I was a surgeon or an electrician... but to get to work in order to stamp shop drawings? C'mon already. Do I HAVE to be an adult today? Can't I be childlike and have a snow day?
Right. Well. Now that the whining is out of the way... my biggest pet peeve in this kind of weather are the frikkin' idiots out there who refuse to brush snow off their cars. Hey, doood, there's about six inches of frozen precipitation sittin' on your bonnet and I can't see your headlights. Likewise, can't see the tail lights either. Not that it matters, really, since if I'm behind you, chances are you're driving the speed limit or faster anyway. On a road that hasn't been plowed yet. In the country. I'll just give you a cheery wave when I pass you ten minutes later after you've hurtled your precious auto in the ditch. Give you a hand? Here, let me call a tow truck for you once I'm safely stopped and my car is in PARK. I'm sorry your cell phone flew out the window on impact while you were yakkin' to cousin Jeb and smoking a cigarette. Thank goodness you can ask for a new one for Christmas. While you're at it, why don't you pray that the Powers That Be gift you with a modicum of common sense.
Now excuse me while I go brush more snow off my car and dream that I'm eight years old and it's a snow day.
Who dat snappin' back? |
Right. Well. Now that the whining is out of the way... my biggest pet peeve in this kind of weather are the frikkin' idiots out there who refuse to brush snow off their cars. Hey, doood, there's about six inches of frozen precipitation sittin' on your bonnet and I can't see your headlights. Likewise, can't see the tail lights either. Not that it matters, really, since if I'm behind you, chances are you're driving the speed limit or faster anyway. On a road that hasn't been plowed yet. In the country. I'll just give you a cheery wave when I pass you ten minutes later after you've hurtled your precious auto in the ditch. Give you a hand? Here, let me call a tow truck for you once I'm safely stopped and my car is in PARK. I'm sorry your cell phone flew out the window on impact while you were yakkin' to cousin Jeb and smoking a cigarette. Thank goodness you can ask for a new one for Christmas. While you're at it, why don't you pray that the Powers That Be gift you with a modicum of common sense.
Now excuse me while I go brush more snow off my car and dream that I'm eight years old and it's a snow day.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Tick a lock
You all know how kids can be... blurting out things they overhear, questions that beg to be asked. Sometimes the parents are mortified, other times a bit embarrassed. More often than not, what is said is the most obvious... that which adults artfully dodge. This type of 'communication' is something we are taught as small children, in a variety of ways. Before I could embarrass him, my father, sensing that my mouth was about to shape the words he was trying not to say, would look at me, shake his finger and say "Angie, tick a lock."
As a child I knew that meant 'shut the hell up'. But now, as a grown woman, it's come to mean something entirely different. It may very well be an odd turn of phrase, 'tick a lock'; I've never heard anyone else say it. In any case, to me it now signifies a need to keep quiet. To concentrate. Think before speaking. Because once something is said, it's no longer yours. It may lose whatever meaning it had for you.
I guess that I've been ticking a lock the last month or so.
Who dat snappin' back? |
As a child I knew that meant 'shut the hell up'. But now, as a grown woman, it's come to mean something entirely different. It may very well be an odd turn of phrase, 'tick a lock'; I've never heard anyone else say it. In any case, to me it now signifies a need to keep quiet. To concentrate. Think before speaking. Because once something is said, it's no longer yours. It may lose whatever meaning it had for you.
I guess that I've been ticking a lock the last month or so.
