Bad Driver: 160 ZYG (blackout)

Saw you coming and thought, "Will this asshole catch me before I peel off to Cleveland?"  I was hoping not, so I went onto the lane you were on, but goddammit, you had places to go, you man of intrigue with your dilapidated sedan, and 70 was not fast enough.  I see you get in front of me a little too close, motherfucker.  But hey, were you going to the Fair?  Has a stripper you've seen for over two decades finally given you two HJs?  I'll believe my life's better than yours.  Prick.

Bad Driver: TCS 729

Wow, I haven't had to deal with crazy motherfuckers like you on the road in a long time.  And unfortunately you wanted to let everyone know you could conquer the snow like a man when I was trying to get to work.  I don't remember anyone cutting in right around me that closely in a long time, if not ever.  And when you started tapping your brake and flipping me off (at least that's what I thought you were doing; I couldn't see your bitch ass finger all that clearly in the snow, boy), I began to realize that you might be on fucking drugs.  Who the fuck else does crazy shit like that on a county highway at 8 on a Friday morning while snow's falling?

Then, I rolled up behind you on the left turn lane.  I didn't think you were crazy enough to cut in front of someone on the right lane that was going straight through the intersection and then make a left turn before we had our green light or the traffic coming straight the other way had theirs, but maybe you're on some insane shit.  Or, you were afraid of me.  One of the two.

Bravo, though, you piece of shit.  I was calm enough to lift the license plate of your Honda sedan.  God, I hope I never, ever see you again, you dangerous fucking asshole.

Bad (And Dangerous) Driver: RUK 895

Remember when I asked myself why I don't honk or flash my lights to an asshole who cuts me off?  Yesterday/Wednesday morning is why, goddammit.

This motherfucker does a U-turn onto the right lane.  There is a huge hauler in front of him, so he starts accelerating to get around that hauler ... and in front of me, in the left lane.  I try to accelerate, but goddammit, my car just wasn't fast enough, and this monstrous big black SUV (maybe it's a GMC, I don't know) cuts in front of me.

I still remember what happened last week, so I honk my horn and I flash my lights.  Apparently, this asshole has nothing else to do at 5:30 in the morning, so he starts playing chicken with me, slowing down and changing lanes in front of me.  He finally lets me pass so I can get onto the highway.  I thought I shook him loose because he stayed on the left lane.  But as I exit the cloverleaf, the son-of-a-bitch appears up the on-ramp.  I know he had no reason to get on the highway by the way he was driving.  And as he zoomed past me, I knew he wanted to bait me.  Yeah, I dropped the issue.  I got him driving where he didn't want to, so I was in his head as much as he is in mine.  He went way down the highway, and I took the next exit.

And I hope that's the end of it, but I don't know.  I got his license plate, but because he got behind me, I'm sure he's got mine.  I didn't get a look at him, though, because that only pisses road rage drivers even more.  This goes beyond annoying and into dangerous.  I admit that I was scared driving home, and am scared that he's looking for me, not just today but for the next few days, at least.  (I'm paranoid enough to think he's already looked up my license plate and knows where I live.)  I'll drive a different route for the next week or so, just in case.

Moreover, though, I am disappointed with my car.  I really thought it would accelerate when I asked it to, but for some damn reason, when I stepped my foot on the gas, it didn't pick up speed.  Did I not press it down all the way, or is my car getting old?  Either way, it's embarrassing.  I know that I swore I wouldn't do stuff like that again, but ... well, I guess I was hoping I could recapture my masculinity on the road when I felt it was threatened.  Maybe more than the possibility that someone might go out of his way to kill me, the takeaway I am taking from this road rage incident is that my car may just be a doddering quasi-jalopy that shouldn't go above 70 miles anymore.

Still, I had to report this prick.  Hey, if this guy tags me on the road, somebody has to know who did it.

Bad Driver: C0NFUSE (?)

Another incel Republican with a white whip cutting me off with only inches to spare without turning on his signal?  And all because I changed lanes in front of him?  Fuck off, boy.  I went to the Kendrick Lamar/SZA concert because I have money while yours is wrapped up in being a prick and letting everybody know it.  And what the fuck is with the license plate, anyway?

OK, I switched lanes after switching over to the left-most lane because it occurred to me I needed to take the cloverleaf exit.  But then this asshole did what I did and I'm all, "No, I'm not gonna follow this piece of shit onto the exit, I'm going somewhere else and I don't care how long it takes me to get to the fast food place."  And then I realized that I could get to this place faster if I passed the exit and took a left and the next light ... which meant that I didn't need to change lanes.  And now I need to stop this line of thinking.  I am not going to scrutinize my behavior because it might have cause another guy's asshole behavior.  That guy is an asshole, and behaved like it.  I did nothing wrong.  Period.  Well, I wish I honked at him right as he cut in front of me and not when he was two lengths in front of me.  I was scared, though.

I hope writing this down is the end of it in my mind.

But really though, that license plate ... I don't know if I have it down correctly, but it sure as hell is stupid.

Worst Fears On The Road Just About Realized

One of my greatest fears -- and granted, I have many -- is that, while I'm driving, debris from a vehicle ahead of me falls out of that vehicle, and either that debris hits my car or it somehow causes me to get into an accident.  That pretty much happened just now as I was driving home from going to work a second time (only to stash some Subway I bought after dinner tonight to have for dinner at work, as I am pulling second shift tomorrow and Thursday).  I was two cars behind a car pulling a flatbed with a bunch of stuff loosely tied down.  The car between us switched lanes over, and when I saw that the stuff seemed like it could fly off at any time, I started trying to move over to the left.

Just then, that car went over a bump big enough that it jostled the stuff on the bed, and some of that stuff fell off of it and on to the road.  I know that because I saw some of that stuff fall, and I heard a loud "CRASH!"  And I was just having thoughts of my car going over sharp shards of glass and destroying my tires.  That's when I swerved to my left and accelerated so I could get away from the fallen debris as quickly and as far as possible.  I kept looking at my dashboard to see if my low tire pressure light came on, but it didn't.

Guess I dodged a bullet.  But dammit, that scared the shit out of me.  Why isn't it mandatory for drivers to tie down stuff on flatbeds to the point where it won't move while they're driving on the road??

Just Like Old Times

The sleep debt I'm accruing over sleeping only 3 1/2 hours overnight caught up with me big time yesterday/Wednesday at work.  I thought the longest hour of work was my last hour.  I was wrong.  One of my co-workers once remarked that the longest hour actually is the last one before lunch.  That makes sense; I haven't gotten my lunchtime nap in yet, so if I'm not awake coming in to work, I'll feel the fatigue worst of all then.  And I did; right before it was lunch, my eyes started to droop real, real bad and I felt my head start to fall.  I was about to pass out, right at my desk, because I was so bleepin' tired.  I was able to snap my head, and thank Buddha it was lunch time right then and there; I got to my car and within three minutes, I'm sure I was out like a light.

The last time I was so fatigued was when I was a temp for Radisson World Headquarters about two decades ago.  I thought my body maturing eliminated situations like yesterday.  I swear, that has been the most tired I've ever been at this job.  Don't want to do that again.

---

Ever since I frightened myself with my bit of road rage when I got caught off in April, I have not revved my engine at all.  Seriously.  I have seen assholes in trucks pass me by and I go, "OK, man, you do you."

But ever since I got a clean bill of my health for my car from the shop a couple weeks ago, I feel the urge to drive like a bat out of hell again.  I have listened to the angels of my better nature ... until leaving work for home yesterday/Wednesday.  Since it was early enough in the afternoon that I didn't think highway traffic had built up yet, I decided to take the fast way home.  That involves taking a right onto a long road that becomes a de facto on-ramp to the highway.

I make this turn just as oncoming traffic, from the left, got the green light from the intersection.  One of the vehicles is, of course, a black truck that is gaining ground on me even though the two lanes were going to merge into one.  I know the asshole wanted to get past me because he overestimated how much asphalt he had, so he accelerated quickly through the other lane.  But fuck that, bitch, I stepped on the gas pedal and made sure that motherfucker had to merge behind me.  Ha!  I had to step on my brake to merge into traffic, but it was worth it!

Takes me back to when I didn't think I had to baby my car.  Hope I haven't hurt it.

---

The Vampire Weekend concert I bought a ticket for was last/Wednesday night.  (Review: VW has a lot of songs I know now.  And Ezra Koenig is a unique kind of frontman, unthreatening and affable.)  They started at 8:30 and ended before 11.  Nowadays, if I had known that they would start and end that late on a school night, I wouldn't go to the concert (I said this in my last blog post), but I was dazzled over Live Nation trying to save face and offering tickets for $25 not too long ago.

I waited out the storm that passed through by taking a power nap that lasted only 90 minutes to which I set an alarm.  (Feel really alert right now, BTW.)  Thought that if it were storming all night I would actually skip the concert, but when I woke up there was a hole in the storm whereby I thought I could drive downtown and walk to the Armory without getting wet.  So I told my parents that ... I was meeting a friend ... and that I would be back by 10, or so.  I think I arrived home around 11:20.

Man, I haven't 1) lied and 2) underestimated to my folks when I would get back home by at least an hour since I just got out of college and they were worried what I was doing with my life.  Man, just like old times!

---

Yesterday/Wednesday was a blast from the past.  Those were the days!

Avoided Getting T-Boned ... On My Street ... Twice ...

... and if I recall correctly (this happened last week), it happened on back-to-back days.

I'm going to start with the second one, which I think was on Wednesday morning.  I was minding my business, just driving down my street.  I see to my right a car back down its driveway.  I'm always dreading that the driver doesn't see me, but he or she does, and he or she stops so I can drive.  This one, however, I wasn't so sure, because the driver drove down fast, like fast enough that he or she wouldn't be able to stop on time.  So, instinctively, I swerved to the left in case the driver really wanted to get out onto the street without making sure the coast was clear.  I think he or she stopped, but no matter, I was out of that person's way and still driving to work.

Exact same thing happened the morning before, on Tuesday.  It was a different driver, however.  One closer to my house.  In fact, I know her, or at least I know the person who is married to her: It's either my sister's best friend or her wife.  I've never, ever seen either of them tear ass down the driveway, which is almost kitty-corner from our house.  But I was just moseying on down and I see their truck busting down their driveway, and so I really, really swerved to make sure I got of her way.  I can let this go, but this is still very uncharacteristic of either of them.

So I did this twice, on my street, on back-to-back work mornings.  Hasn't happened since, and I hope that doesn't happen for a long, long, long time.

People Not Obeying The Rules Of The Roundabout/Circular

So at the best and closest Target near me (there is one that might be closer to me, but they still don't have self-checkout, and it's a slow clusterfuck, at least the last time I went there, so I avoid it), they reconstructed the street outside it to add a modified roundabout/circular.  It's hard to describe how it's modified, but most of the traffic on this true two-way out of Target is shunted to the right, so if you want to go left, you have to basically make a U-turn through the roundabout/circular, like I did just now.

Once you're in the roundabout/circular, you keep moving until you get to your exit.  That means that if you reach the roundabout/circular, you need to yield until there's space to enter it.  I have now seen assholes not obey that rule twice.  Second time happened just now; I think a White chick in a white car went right into it behind a car that did yield, like they had a green light.  She was immediately taking a right right out of the roundabout/circular, so I honked her ass as I moved past her.  The first time happened some time ago; the guy in the old white sedan, who also went in right behind someone who obeyed the rules, had a bumper sticker that said either "It's a Plandemic!" or "It's a Scamdemic!"  Hate my decision, but I decided not to honk at the Republican psycho.

Look, it's a narrow residential street.  But because there's a Target there, the traffic before this reconstruction was a shitshow.  This roundabout/circular is needed.  Now, reactionary bitches are rebelling by not following directions.  Goddammit, I almost got into an accident, especially just now.  That better fucking not happen to me.

I Did Something Yesterday That Still Terrifies Me

Goddamn my temper.

So I was driving to work yesterday/Monday.  Since I had my timing chain replaced, I've slowed down while driving -- for the most part.  But there was this van that got behind me, then changed to the lane to my left, then merged right in front of me.  Like, "Why are you gettin' that motherfucking close to me, you fucking asshole?!" close.  And I felt violated and attacked and as if my manhood was taken from me, and so I needed to take my manhood back.  So I went to the lane to our left, floored the gas pedal, and cranked my car back onto our lane and right in front of him.

But I didn't.  I did all of those things, but by the time I thought I was showing him up, he (and it had to be a he) moved one lane further to the right, and he was slowing down because he was getting onto the off ramp.  When I saw that I kind of dusted him but he was not in a position to see that I did, I stepped on the brake.  Hard.

I have had bouts of road rage like this before.  Rode my car hard many, many times -- accelerated to close to 100, then cut off the son-of-a-bitch who cut me off and slammed on the brake.  Afterwards, I always felt as though I may not have "succeeded" in showing who's boss, but I felt true to myself in taking back what was taken from me.  But not this time.  I'm not disappointed in myself.  But I am still shaking -- not exactly over what happened to me, but over what I did in response.  Yes, I've done this before.  And yet I can't believe I did this, or allowed myself to do this.

I'm getting older.  My uncle dying probably is weighing on me more than I am conscious of.  But I feel this sense of shame now because of what I put my car through.  It's getting older, and it's not as if I can afford to buy another one off the lot.  And I know that you hurt the car when you suddenly accelerate and suddenly brake.  And oh, by the way, I have new tires on it.  There's a breaking-in period of about 1,000 miles where you should go easy on them, and I sure as hell didn't yesterday morning.  Now, if my car is ruined after this one rush of blood to the head, then this model needs to be recalled for being a piece of shit.  But I can't let this happen again.  And I certainly can't allow this hard driving because of my road rage contribute to a pattern that will ultimately kill my car.

I am under no illusion that I will do what I have pledged to do in this blog post.  This prick (and by the way, the car that almost sideswiped me was a minivan from, I think, a company called Royal Transportation [there was a decal on this fucking vehicle], which I believe is a public assistance transportation company for those who cannot drive themselves, so I believe the driver was someone who was hastily trained in driving) could be riding my ass again this morning.  I am not absolving this piece of shit for what he did to me; I have never had someone merge in front of me so closely.  But that van's gone and I still have my car which I totally abused because this red mist descended in front of my eyes again.  People suck at driving, but I have to walk the line because getting revenge means I destroy the vessel that gives me mobility in this world.

Still have this aching suspicion that I've hurt this car past some irreversible point just because of what happened, though.  In the meantime, I think I will try and drive slowly -- and, Lord willing, let things go while I'm driving.  Just don't know if I will.

Got word from my cousin that my uncle is dying.  And I am working at the Game.  Such horrible timing.

Not In A Good Place Right Now

I don't know why, but my mood over the car and everything else has crashed over the evening.  I had a deep nap of about half an hour after I cut short my phone session with my therapist over the phone because I was profoundly drowsy.  Usually, naps help me feel better.  But whether it was the unfairness over shelling out two grand for a new timing chain or the asshole who beeped at me on my way home from Target and Kentucky Fried Chicken for not doing a U-turn fast enough for him (get off me, fucker, I was waiting for the car to take a right before me and I didn't want to hit him!!!), I feel stressed, overwhelmed, and tired.

One thought continues to stick out at me as I type this: I don't want to use the car that I have rented.  Don't know why.  It works just fine, it serves my needs, and like I said in my previous blog post, I rented the car because I wanted to just fucking drive a car that wasn't going to give me any goddamn problems, even if it was only for just 48 hours.  (Still think that getting a rental that says service is due for it is a stupid, ironic joke, but it drives fine.)  And at $114 (plus gas) for two days it seems like a steal to me, even though I might be totally fooling myself.  Still, I don't like it.  I guess I hate that I don't trust my parents' minivan right now, with it unlocking itself and the door open indicator light coming on while I drive.

Or, maybe I don't like that I have to wake up at 6 to go to work.  Anyway, there's a decent chance I might rent another car for two days next week to tide me over until I get the car back.  I can get a rental for less than $100.  Can you believe it?  I might get over both my reticence over renting the car and my bad mood.

Bad Driver: JMW 486

This Mediocre White Dude in a silver Toyota sedan wouldn't move his ass in the parking lot of the Chipotle close to me.  I was going to around him to drive off when he started driving.  I honked my horn because he was annoying the shit out of me.  And he stuck his hand out the window and gave me the finger lol.  I gave him the finger back out of reflex; I shouldn't have done that because that comeback bullshit is weak.  But to make sure I wasn't stuck behind some asshole with a gun, I waited until he turned right and I turned left to lean on my horn again.

Prick, if you don't want to get honked, move your ass!  And don't flick me off, you slow motherfucker. ...

Trying To Be A Good Boy So I Can Get A Break On My Health Insurance

My screening is in the morning.  I am doing my damnedest to stay within my self as I fast, but either I'm so bored or so manic with hunger pains that my mind is racing in a hundred different directions as I write this.  Damn, I could use a croissant right now.  I'm just dreaming of Al's Breakfast and Hooters after I get my blood tapped.

This screening is for work.  The results of my blood will partially decide whether I get a break for my health insurance.  Things have changed when it comes to that, unfortunately.  Before, you only needed to clear two hurdles: Signing an attestation saying that you don't smoke, and having a BMI below a certain threshold.  I could clear both of those in my sleep (and heck, even if I were a smoker, couldn't I just lie and attest that I don't smoke?)  Starting now, there are three additional measurements they're looking at: Blood pressure, cholesterol, and A1C.  And to get that insurance discount, you now need to "win" three out of the five.

I've been above the universally-regarded normal BP of 120/80 for years now, so that's out.  I've been looking at my results from my visits to my doctor, and I can't find a test for A1C, so who knows if I'm under it or not?  And my cholesterol level was treading in the downward/right direction when I last got it checked, in November, but before I was perilously close to 200.  So, there's a possibility that I "fail" all three of these new metrics.  I could still get a discount at that point, but I'd have to sign up for some diversionary program offered by the health insurance company, and I know part of my paycheck is already paying for that, so that kind of feels like trying to make friends with your bully.  Besides, I don't want to let things get that far.

And so I am in the middle of doing things that I hope will bring down my blood pressure, A1C and cholesterol.  I took yesterday off to eat a healthy lunch (a salad with nuts and avocado and a nopales [that's a cactus] taco) at Centro (albeit with a gin and tonic -- but hey, no calories!), and then I exercised.  Will these concerted efforts help get my levels down?  Probably not.  I should have started this "cutting weight" a couple weeks ago, or better yet, maybe I could just start eating less and eating better as a lifestyle.  But hey, I'm doing it.

I also got a massage after exercising.  (Wanted to take a shower at home before going to the salon, but apparently my masseuse had so many cancellations the salon left me a message to see if I wanted to move up my evening appointment.  I feel as though they were strongly encouraging me to.  But I was starting my workout, and I need to be active for the next day's blood draw, so I compromised and went there straight from the community center.  Doesn't feel great to get a massage when you're all sweaty.)  I want to think that getting all the toxins out of my body will somehow lower my weight and cholesterol.  Doing this also meant I skipped the big dinner Mother inevitably would have otherwise made; I had water, yogurt and a banana instead, and that's a healthy meal, right?  

Finally, getting rubbed down really takes the edge off of you.  I wanted to glide on that good feeling as I went home and, best case scenario, just lay in bed, or fall asleep until I had to go the blood panel.  That was my strategy in hopefully getting my blood pressure below 120/80.  I figure that BP is the easiest of the three goals to manipulate 24 hours before the draw (and maybe the only one), so that if I do hit that mark, the A1C and the cholesterol level wouldn't matter.  That was working until the drive home, when I got stuck behind a slow car.  I looked at the lane next to me.  It was clear.  I went over, but just as I did, a truck did the same, and my damn heart jumped.  And then my temper flared up even more as I failed to make the light to turn left and eventually to home.

I still catch myself having these violent fantasies where I'm beating up bullies, and of all the times I can't have this red mist descend over me, this is the worst.  I need to be calm, relaxed, Zen.  That's the best way to get my blood pressure down and hopefully qualify for this discount.  But maybe I'm going to let myself down.  Hope not.

Letting Go On The Road

There were a couple stupid drivers yesterday, but you know, I just let them go.  Don't know how I was in such a relaxed position, but besides honking at one of them for cutting me off, I just removed myself from the situation and drove off and away from that bad driver.  Just felt better to not engage.

Letting go like that felt good.  Maybe it'll continue, maybe not.  But it felt good letting go.

Well, We've Legalized It ... And I Don't Like It

As of today, August 1, marijuana is legal.  And call me a Republican if you want, but I am scared to even leave the house right now.

I equate it (somewhat; I still kind of think pot is a gateway drug, don't @ me) to another sin that has run rampant nationwide, gambling.  I do not like governmental sanction of these sins because it gives people license to do bad things that eventually will hurt other people.  And I am paranoid, but only a little bit, that once the clock struck midnight, people all over this fuckin' state blazed one up and are now walking around the neighborhood spewing that rancid-ass odor all over the place.  I plan on seeing Oppenheimer tonight, and I'm sure I'll smell pot smoke in there, too, 'cause hey, it's legal now!  And I am scared, truly scared, that I'll be driving and will get hit by some dumb asshole who's high and just rolled through his red light.

I really don't like it.  I feel we won't be safe anymore, and I'm pretty certain much more of my day will be ruined because people are smokin' up wherever and whenever the hell they want to -- even though the law states that weed-smoking is confined to certain places, and the default is that marijuana remains illegal in public spaces.  That differentiation, the idea that you can't just do it anywhere and anytime, is lost on the stupid people who live among me.  It'll be fucking everywhere, all it once, and possibly forever.

Fuck This Rude And Impatient Prick, Part I

There are just some things, some people, and things people do that piss me off.  Like, so piss me off that I think that people who do those things should die.  People who weave in and out of traffic -- mostly on cars but motorcyclists anger the fuck out of me too -- are one.  People who weave in and out of crowds are another.

I was at a United Match a few weeks ago, and Allianz Field is typically buzzing with people before the Match begins.  I usually hang back and pick my spots -- you know, where there are open pockets in a long train of lines going one way or the other.  No need to be a pushy dick, especially if you can't go anywhere.

But as I was waiting for my moment, this piece of shit comes from behind, darts into a little hole right in front of this couple, and starts slithering through the teeming crowd.  He didn't care about things like manners or space; no, this motherfucker just wanted to get to where he wanted to get to, and he wanted to go there now, goddammit.

And so that fucking red mist just descended in front of my eyes.  It's the same one that convinces me I have to catch up with a fucking driver that cut me off.  And so fuck finding a pocket -- I'll be bumping and pushing people down in order to get to this asshole.

And I kind of did.  Well, sort of.  He weaseled his way to the bathroom, a place I was going to go to, but, you know, I wasn't going to be a dick ...

---

... and hey, I just got back from helping out Mother with something I think was a waste of time, and the mental energy I needed to expend was so depleting that I want to leave right now.  I'll finish this blog post up later.  I think.  Sorry.

Bad Driver: PRG 112

I was just minding my own business going south on East River Road (which I had to take because 94 was closed for the weekend and I wanted to set the "Loti" pencil, a storm-murdered tree that was turned into a very realistic, blown-up-Claes Oldenburg-style pencil on the front lawn of a guy who lives in a tony part of Minneapolis) when this fucker in a black Jeep cuts right in front of me, even though there was no one within a half a mile of us, even though there was no turn he (I'm assuming it's a he) just caught in time.  And I'm even more insulted when he turns on his signal only after his whole ass is in my lane.

I so totally want to report this asshole, but I know this is something that doesn't rise to the level of road rage driving.  But this motherfucker didn't give enough clearance before cutting in front of me; that has to be illegal, right?

Oh, by the way, the occasion (on Saturday, BTW) was that the owner of the house with the tree was "sharpening" the pencil.  He started it last year and apparently he's trying to make it an annual thing.  But there was no real sharpening, dammit.  Someone just put a pointy "tip" on top of the "dull" pencil and acted as though they sharpened it.  They constructed a giant student sharpener -- you know, the rectangular one, usually red, you carried with you if you were Gen X.  They put it on top of the stalk, and two guys circled around it as if to "sharpen" it.  But it was all a lie.  I really thought some guy was going to take a chainsaw and make the top pointy.  That would be cool.  What I saw instead was A LIE!!!

Sucks to have your day ruined by some road rager who just has to get in front of you.  So I have to remember the nice people, such as the Culver's server who handed me my food.  Trying to look on the bright side. ...

Bad Driver: 707 JUP (Plus, The Annual Christmas Song Breakdown)

Ah, yet another little bitch.  I just was taking advantage of you starting from a dead stop at a red when I was still driving when it turned green.  I had to take a quick left and get into your lane.  And yet you wouldn't accept that and cut right in front of me.  You petty little fucker -- you're just like me!

And of course you were going to take that left, too.  Man, I'm telling you, I was about to light you the fuck up -- get on your ass, turn on my high beams, honk my horn, hound the shit out of you, and if you wanted to step out of your car and try something, I would have loved to throw down.  But ... I had a family vacation to get to later that week, and anything that would have prevented me from seeing my sister graduate would be my fault.  You're not worth that much trouble.  I can only console myself by guessing, with reasonable certainty, that you're stuck in Minnesota where, right now, it's (checks Weather app on phone) -5 and it feels like -21.  Meanwhile, for the past two weeks, I've been (for the most part) living in paradise, where other people besides me are paying for most of what I see and what I eat.  It's 72 here at a quarter to 1 in the morning.  We don't have a wind chill, we have a heat index; it feels like 74.  And despite getting emasculated by My Fucking Mother (theme!), I think you'd be so fucking jealous of where I'm at right now.  You do you, asshole.

---

Alright, alright.  Where is here?  Might as well tell you; here is the Big Island of Hawai'i.  I've been in the state of Hawai'i for about the past two weeks now.  Started off in Honolulu, went to the Big Island, go back to Honolulu in a couple days, then fly back shortly after that.  There was a snowstorm just before I left followed by a dip in the temperature, then this bomb cyclone happened last week and now Minnesota (along with most of the rest of the mainland) is still recovering from all the snow, the blizzard conditions, and the dangerously cold temps.  But it's going to warm up above freezing on Wednesday ... and that's when I get back home.  Maybe that'll knock the snowpack down to a manageable level to plow.  Hell, I have to make sure the pipes in my house didn't freeze up.

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Oh yes, it's Christmas!  Since I am in Hawai'i, I have to break down the Bing Crosby (with help from The Andrews Sisters) classic "Mele Kalikimaka!"

So the deal with this song (and I am totally cribbing this from the song's Wikipedia page) is that in 1949 a stenographer for Hawai'i-born composer R. Alex Anderson (and I assume all of this took place in Honolulu, the city where he was born and died), who was an expert in making Hawaiian-themed songs, wondered aloud why there wasn't a Hawaiian Christmas song.  Anderson got to thinking and then to writing and came up with "Mele Kalikimaka," which wasn't a phrase he made but had been in use since at least 1904, when the greeting was found in a Hawaiian-language newspaper called Ka Nupepa Kuokoa.  Anderson showed it to Bing Crosby, with whom he played golf.  Sometime in the next year, Crosby showed him the recording.  The song got onto Crosby's 1955 compilation album Merry Christmas, and it has been a somewhat overlooked classic since.

By the way, the term "mele kalikimaka" appears to be a phonetic (if not literal) translation of "Merry Christmas."  The Hawaiian alphabet only has 13 letters, and the two most popular in the English alphabet, "s" and "r," are not in that alphabet.  Furthermore, there is a litany of rules one has to follow; every consonant has to be followed by a vowel, and all syllables must end with a vowel.  Because of that, someone determined (as appears to be the case in the citing in Ka Nupepa Kuokoa) that if you ... uh, "translate" probably isn't the right word but "derive" might be ... anyway, if you take "Merry Christmas" and you try and say "Merry Christmas" using the Hawaiian alphabet, it was determined that it would become "Mele Kalikimaka."  The Wiki has a good step-by-step breakdown on why the "r"'s in "Merry Christmas" are replaced with "l"'s, for example.  You have to admit that the syllables in "Mele Kalikimaka" lends itself to being sung, right?

Merry Christmas!

Winter Has Come, Dammit

While I was busy working and doing alum stuff, the weather forecasters determined that the first snowfall of the year is going to happen this morning.  Unlike previous years where our first snowstorm was a hit of a few inches, this one apparently is a long, dragged-out snow storm that will give us an inch or two at this time and then an inch or two at another time.

Regardless of how much falls and in what frequency, there is no worse driver on Earth than a Minnesota driver upon the first real snowstorm of the winter, and for that reason I am dreading like hell tomorrow.  Driving home is bad enough with slick roads and aggressive, stupid drivers.  But I plan on going straight to the U. for the men's basketball Game there early this evening.  I think I can take side streets from work to the U., and I know I can from the U. home.  But I am a Minnesota driver driving after the first real snowstorm of the winter, plus I'll be driving at night, so I could really, really suck.

Moreover, I have Tuesday and Wednesday off.  I have my annual on Tuesday, after which I want to see this hot Hooters waitress I think I have a good vibe with.  Wednesday I want to see Grandmother's friend, and then I might want to eat out, and preferably outdoors.  Oh, and I want to work out at the gym at least one of those two days, and preferably both.  They say it won't snow Wednesday, but we could another 1-2" Tuesday, and it'll be cold both days.  So I will be active on the road just as it starts to get treacherous.  Inevitable as winter is, I don't look forward to the next few days.