Duelling idiots

I’ve never hidden the fact that the general public pisses me off. I like people, individually, even in small groups. Heck, I even love some of them. But when you get nameless, faceless, masses of humans together, they all meld into one mind-numbing, for-the-love-of-everything-sacred-someone-hand-me-a-glass-of-wine assemblage.

Take driving, for example. Why, in the name of all that is holy, when there are two lanes in which one can drive, it’s inevitable that two cars will drive side-by-side at the same speed. They won’t even be doing the speed limit. It’s like one idiot started to pass another idiot, and then thought “hey, this could be fun…”, thereby hijacking every car in both lanes behind them.

Take shopping malls, as another example. Why do people feel it’s necessary to stop dead in their tracks when they know people are behind them. The worst ones do this, and then promptly turn around and glare at you if you made the mistake of bumping into them. By the gods people, I’m not psychic, but I might turn psycho if you try to make me feel like this was my fault. I did not want to crash into a total stranger, I usually try to refrain from touching people I don’t know. I’m not a germaphobe, but I do find it inappropriate.

The worst ones, however, are the sidewalk/hallway hoggers. You know the ones… The sidewalk, or hallway, is only three people wide, but three people walk abreast and don’t move out of our way. Sidewalk hoggers suck, because you’re usually forced onto the grass, or better yet, into the road – usually in front of on-coming traffic. Hallways, as you may recall, have walls. Last time I checked, I could not walk through them. So, by not moving out my way, you are now threatening to body check me into the boards (being Canadian, I had to use the hockey metaphor). Yet, if I do not move our of your way, stop dead right in front of you, and let you pass around me like I’m Moses parting the idiot sea, I’m the asshole.

On any given day, I experience at least two of these horrifying social graces. It’s no wonder I go home, hug my cats, and drink wine.



I was told the other day that I’m not a writer because everything I’ve ever had published did not have my name attributed to it, and was claimed by others. Does that count? Is what I’ve posted, so far, considered writing? I’d love your opinion…

Reality check

As I trundle through every day, trying to keep my head above water, I will occasionally stop and wonder  what the hell I’m doing. I talk to my classmates every day, and am active on the social media boards, but every now and then it dawns on me… Holy crap, I’m in school and learning a whole whack of new stuff. (No wonder I nap when I can.) I just finished a project that had me create a website without touching existing HTML, and using only CSS code. I hated it, and then I loved it. I know I got help, but I keep bringing it up on the screen and I can’t believe I did that. Even my prof liked it. I thought it was simplistic, but he saw it as artistic. That made me happy.

On a personal note, I’m still happy. It’s weird. Yesterday, I stood in the arms of a man that I have fallen in love with, and was fascinated by the fact that this person exists. As I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him, I couldn’t help but marvelling that he was real. Flesh and blood. Free will – and he chooses to be with me. And he thinks I’m perfect. I still question his sanity, and double check how much he’s had to drink when he says stuff like that…

But, of course, the universe has to keep me humble. I’m now mortally wounded again, with the second sprain of my left ankle in three months. I’d love to say that I was battling zombie garden gnomes – because that has happened before, only that resulted in a fractured nose and concussion. It has been suggested that demonic possession could have been the source of my fall. I think that has a far more adventurous ring to it than “I missed a step”…

What the hell?

Okay, it’s bad enough that a whole new year snuck up on us, but how in the hell is it already the end of January?!? Valentine’s Day is not yet here, yet the Cadbury bunny is already laying eggs on television. The February thaw, followed by a deep-freeze from hell, has yet to happen, yet the spring clothing line is emerging in stores. On Facebook, some are posting that it’s only 52 days until Spring, while others are posting that that’s it’s only 47 weeks until Christmas. Incidentally, I want to smack the latter.

I often find other people’s priorities askew, but then again, who the hell am I to question them? I’m not a fan of winter, so I’m all for anyone who posts a countdown to Spring. I’m not a Christmas person, but I’m exceeding giddy to think that it’s only 277 days until Halloween. The events I tend to base my life on usually revolve around the Pipe Band world. Parades start trickling in at the end of June/Canada Day, the Maxville Highland Games are the August Long Weekend, from mid-August to the end of September we are busy, and then from the week before Remembrance Day until early December, we are absolutely insane.

This year, I’ve added school and a significant other into my life. I have a strange feeling that I’ll be wishing everyone Happy Christmas in a matter of (what seems like) weeks…