stop and go. and stop. or just go

is it just me, or does everyone come to a 4 way stop at the same exact time as the car to your right, wave them on since it is their right of way and then sit and stare at them, eybrows raised as they wave back.
why does that piss me off so much??
it is every time! if someone waves at you to go... GO... don't wave back all ladies and ford escapes first...
every other time, i expect politeness, but not at a four way- just go people. when i get there clearly BEFORE the next person though, they very nearly always shoot through the intersection like they are being shot out of a cannon... driving is just so hard, you know.
anyway, november is for being thankful, so i will start that tomorrow.
today i am crabby.
and in pain- my stupid rib is all jacked up (a technical term of course) and my chiropractor is unavailable. and even though you doctor folk might relaize this already, it is not effective to try to kinesiotape your own injuries when they are behind you and over your dominant shoulder. you just might injure another 1 or 17 ribs getting into position.
so once again, tomorrow.
i will be thankful tomorrow.

until then.
i will try to distract myself with uber halloween cuteness.

 nintendo has never seen such characters as these sugared up lovelies :)

coke addicted models and such nonsense

sometimes, or almost every day, i am compelled to do something terrible. something i hope my children won't do. something so vulgar that i am embarrassed by my psychological need to do it. i am talking about coke.
classic.
i drink soda.
BAM- it is earth shattering is it not?!

i teach nutrition.
i have advanced degrees in the business of wellness.
i am a healthcare practitioner.
i know better. soda is probably the worst thing to drink. the major source of calories in the american diet is sugar in soda.

but it could be worse! it could be the other kind of coke is all i'm saying. that would be worse people.

i want it during my commutes- i am full on responding to the external ques we talked about in my nutrition lecture tonight. i almost can't help myself. but today, during my commute- i told my subconscious to back off and i pulled into a sonic, which i love. i really really love sonics. and i ordered an unsweetened iced tea.
TAKE THAT EXTERNAL QUE!

and then i waited.
and waited.
i guess they were brewing my tea...
and the order was delivered to the car in front of me.
and then i waited.
and looked in the rear view mirror and noticed that my hair was blowing wildly in the air conditioner stream making me look all victoria's secret beach shoot, except i was fully dressed in the car. and not heidi klum, of course, even after 14 kids. how does she do it?

and i waited some more
seriously sonic? you are making me second guess my choice. i am not excited about my tea like i would be for a frosty coca cola.
i looked back to the mirror and laughed.
and then i took out my camera phone and took  some pics of myself to send to my husband who i thought would find my pictures glamour shot funny.

more waiting....
and hello sonic person!

i confirmed my order, paid the server and was on my way.
i was still thinking about how long it took to get a simple drink and wondered how long it would have taken if i'd ordered something really complicated like tator tots or a slushie or something, when i reached for my cup and took my first sip.

and it was soda.

my subconscious backed the heck off alright and jumped right into the sonic worker who just knew that i wasn't in the mood for tea. my transplanted subconscious is that good. they delivered to me a 44 oz dr. pepper (i wish it had been coke for many reasons including the the sake of this long and unimportant story and because it's delicious) instead of the 32 oz tea.
that is the biggest external que i have ever seen...

but it's fine.
all models have their addictions after all.

Expletive, Expletive!

I am a closeted potty mouth. As in when I am in an enclosed space surrounded by moronic motorists, the words really start flying. Or if I am typing in cyberland I guess, but my kids can't read curse words yet so I think I am good.
In general I try to really watch the potty-mouthness though I admit it escapes on occasion. Like the "Dammit!" last night when a naked bootied post-bath girlie PEED on big brother's bed in the 2.5 seconds it took me to walk across the room for a diaper. And then she took said diaper back off in the 2.7 seconds it took me to strip big brother's sodden sheets and I had to chase her giggling self down to redress. The nakedness- I loathe it.
But what the hell people?? How is driving that hard? Put it in gear and depress gas pedal. When you must stop, depress brake. Turn signal on to change lanes or turn. Don't hit anything.
Done.
I almost die about 12 times a commute. Sometimes I must stop all the way in moving traffic to accommodate someone who is trying to get out of an exit only lane... or into a lane from an on-ramp... or who decided to just give up watching the road and wander their zillion-ton Denali into my very moving lane. Sometimes I must vear onto a shoulder or slam the gas pedal to the floor. And it pisses me off. every. time. An expletive is fired off. every. time. If I am sans-kids of course.
And I am at work today and sans-kids so the ride home could get a little colorful if these damn morons don't get their driving shizz together!
And then I'll have to rinse my mouth out with soap.

on occasion, overthinking is still not enough

leaving the house to grab lunch from panera should be such a quick thing.i walked out the back door and hesitated.
our license plates expired on the 31st and this week didn't see me any closer to getting them renewed than did the first week in december (or even november).
newsflash- i procrastinate.

so i went back in and grabbed aaron's keys. and then i remembered that i was also going to grab some storage crates and they would fit much better in my car. so i switched the keys AGAIN and left in the originally intended, license plate expired vehicle. actually i went back in one more time for my elin nordegren sunglasses because it was blinding outside. blinding. and 60 degrees in january.
so i am driving and sticking to the back roads because i am paranoid like that. what are the odds of getting pulled over on my quick trip to panera, right?
not good enough!!
at the one leg of my "journey" that hits interstate territory i happened across a parked officer. lucky for me, he has the distinction of owning the most intensely focused set of eyes on the force because he was able to pick my 1"x1" expired little square out of 40 cars flying by at 60 mph. never mind that is what he was probably there for- to pick on all the dummies who bought their vehicles in december with no time to put off a renewal before the sticker changes color for the year- how did he see that?!?!
so am i all pissed pissed pissed and cursing the traffic gods and my procrastination skills with a stomach rumbling for some delicious bread company and an 11 year old officer walks to the window.
i sigh and hand him my information plus all the renewal stuff that i have IN MY CAR already because i had been planning on getting it done. i couldn't exactly say i was on my way since it is saturday either. but i explain that i JUST got back in town from the holidays (or 10 days ago) and i am taking care of it immediately.
he goes to his car and i wait.
and he comes back and says to please take care of it soon.
that he is not giving me a ticket but that it is a real "risk" to be driving a car without an inspection... as if it is going to spontaneously combust. i'm sure he meant risk as there are hundreds of eagle eyed coppers out there waiting to ambush poor elin (right after she had to knock down her pretty house too) but that is not the point.

the point. the point is that karma is a nasty... person. i had JUST got done making fun of a few people who will not be named for being all preachy about how a negative attitude will bring more negatives and blah blah blah. so fine- point taken annoying sages of universal wisdom. i'll be positive.
positively ticket-free... until maybe possibly next time.

where was the damned traffic helicopter??

During today's morning commute, I wrote a rollicking fantastic blog post in my head and now.... nothing. Somewhere amidst road rage and microscopes, caffeination and tests I completely forgot was it was. It was no Pulitzer but still... I need a voice recorder or something.

Except then I'd just say "Do I really sound like that?" every single time I played my recordings back.
I figure the topic probably had something to do with driving in a parking lot or nearly getting smeared by the SAME semi-truck 3 times but we'll have to wait for it to come back to me, probably at 2 am next Tuesday.

It's okay though because the commute HOME gave me plenty of material. If you were not one of the 19.8 gazillion drivers on the road in StL today, you really missed out. The KMOV traffic app just said stay.the.hell.home.

No I made that up.
But that is what they meant.

As I was deadlocked, I found myself next to the loudest thug-life bass blasting car EVER. There is only one thing worse than being stuck next to 'that guy' and that is being stuck next to ba-ba-boom boooooom boom rattle rattle boom boooooom with screaming recently awoken children and an attitude that makes you go all mama bear out the window.

Luckily my kids weren't with me but I probably would've been that person.
It was bad enough because I just couldn't shake him. He or I would gain a few car lengths and then ba-ba-booooom. Damnit!!!

In a rare bass-free moment of clarity I thought about how I was in the makings of another post and that this one was not escaping so I started to write some stuff down. I was not moving very often so I took out a piece of paper and was leaning on the steering wheel writing when suddenly some asshole starts HONKING at me and I get all defensive. What the hell?! We aren't moving- I can't freaking go you dumb-ass and then I realize that I am the asshole. I was honking at myself.

Let me give you a second.

Yep. ME. I was apparently a little excited about recording my new blog post idea, writing furiously enough to lay on my horn. And then doing like any other sane person would do, I pretended it wasn't me.

Looking back I should have just went with it and really owned the honk- threw my arms up and shouted "Let's go already you frakking St. Lunatics (thanks Nelly)!" or at least honked to the bass beat next to me. Maybe next time.

So by now you are probably thinking I'm all cursing like a sailor over here to which I would respond. You are damned right! Commuting in that kind of ridiculous traffic makes me CRAZY. I release the inner trucker in me and it helps. When my kids aren't with me, all bets are off. And really it doesn't matter what I scream because it's just gonna get drowned out by the ba-ba-boom boom next door.

Post Script: As this was written yesterday, you may in fact be perfectly fine on the roadways today. Keep on truckin' commuters and stay out of my way lest you want to be honked at.