I want to call you a fool.

Fool.

I'm listening to a song for you. It's Jenny Owen Youngs' "Fuck was I" and it fits your current situation almost to a tee. Give it a listen:



Seriously, darling. What are you thinking?

We've talked it over several times and I understand that the two of you have certain similarities that make it easy for you to relate to each other in a powerful way. A large part of your relating to one another seems to be your desire to protect her and what seems to be an underlying sense of guilt...perhaps you feel that if you hadn't acted how you did initially she wouldn't have run into the problems that she did. (A logical fallacy, if I may offer an extra two cents of mho here.) I understand that you were both brought up in similar environments and that you reacted in similar ways. I understand that you have essentially fallen into the place that you are now, but what I don't understand is how you now refuse to do anything about the pit into which you have fallen.

What you have stumbled into is sacred and beautiful and important and you know and believe this as much as I do, but instead of treating this thing of yours with reverence you mold and shape your situation to fit it. You rip, tear, recolor, glue and cut your circumstance until it almost fits into what this thing requires. You are bastardizing what you are a part of in an attempt to make it more worthy of the this thing you're forcing it into. Essentially, you are dressing your infant child in clothing its' older siblings aren't yet big enough to wear.

But I can't shake the feeling that you're in the right for sticking with it, even if you're an idiot for being in this situation. This sacred thing you've committed yourself to requires work, a reality too few people realize these days. Maybe your fall into...whatever you're calling this, is a good thing. People find themselves where you are younger and less prepared and with more baggage than you have and make it work. Despite your relative freedom (the only thing holding you where you are is your guilty conscience) you are determined to make this work, supposedly for the long term.

I'm stuck between my "what the fuck are you thinking" mentality and a nagging sense of admiration.

Just make sure that you're in the right place for you. And her.

That is all.

Sidewalk Cruising

There have been two separate occasions in my life (that I can think of) when I have gone sidewalk driving with two different friends. Both of these excursions have been made unique by two things: 1) We were stone cold sober. 2) The activity was done solely for fun, not out of necessity. Today was different. Allow me to introduce you to the culprit, the devil, the MINI COOPER:



Okay...this wasn't THE mini cooper, but as far as I'm concerned, this one is guilty by association.

Allow me to tell my most traumatic story.

I was innocently driving down a half-hearted residential street (45 mph speed limit, mostly just a street, but sporadic driveways every half mile or so, just to keep drivers confused and, therefore...attentive?) I looked down for a MOMENT to switch the radio station and when I looked up again I realized that the two cars in front of me have come to an unexplainable dead stop in the middle of the road, a solid quarter mile from the nearest stop sign. I use my viper-like reflexes to slam on my brakes, but I realize that the screaming metal death trap that I drive (1996 Chrysler LHS, weighing in at 3596 lbs, thank you very much) will not stop as quickly as it needs to, so I pull the oldest trick in the book and also swerve to the side while breaking, but the FOOLS in front of me favor the right side of the lane, so, even with the shoulder, there is not enough space for me to roll to a halt beside them. Next best scenario: I drive up with a clunk and a crash and a thud over the curb and onto the sidewalk, narrowly missing the mailbox.

And of course the hijinks do not cease here. The mini cooper does not realize that she barely escaped creating a three car pile up and instead of doing the wise thing and just driving up to the nearest intersection and turning around there, she continues to sit in the middle of the road. (This is a reasonably well-traveled road, btws.) The Jeep that had been occupying the space between myself and Stupid Cooper drives around the mobile, white roadblock and I stare out my windshield at her. I am not about to drive over the curb again, because my car is already struggling these days, and unless it is an emergency I don't plan on scraping the bottom of my car, because, last time I checked, that's not a fantabulous idea. After readjusting my car slightly on the sidewalk so the nose of my car is pointed down the driveway I wave at the mini cooper lady to make it clear that she should drive on so I can drive out. She is about one car length past the driveway she wants to enter and I am occupying, making it impossible for me to drive past her without entering the opposing lane of traffic. Finally she realizes that she should move, but instead of moving FORWARD like a NORMAL PERSON she reverses her stupid, tiny car until she is on the other side of the driveway, forcing more oncoming cars to halt mid-road so I can exit the driveway.

Someone needs to get her license revoked, and I swear to Bokonon it is not me.

There comes a point when a person just needs to pick a side instead of moseying around no-man's land. So...I should do that.

Possibly the greatest way to start a day: wake a solid hour earlier than necessary without catching the mistake until almost @ work. (please note heavy sarcasm)