So, you know how on holiday’s n’ such, you’re really not in the mood to do much of anything? You know, just like to lounge around in your jammies all day, hunkered down on the couch with a good book, a comfy throw, and a loved one to snuggle with?
Well, while technically not a Holiday – YET – today is the celebration of my 200th Post.
Seeing as it’s Friday, I’m pretty sure the hunker down-jammie-loved one snuggle won’t be happening anytime soon, BUT, I still don’t feel like doing much of anything. So, instead of plunking out brand new useless knowledge, I thought I would instead recycle preexisting useless knowledge. What follows are my two mostest favorite school papers that I created in order to obtain my Associates Degree. Both of which were – interestingly – written for the two classes I dreaded most. True, you can also find these in the “stuff i have to write for school” tab above, but I felt they deserved extra recognition. And I’m thinking that today would be the perfect day to do just that…
• COMM201 – 1 Minute Rant – My Pet Peeve
On almost a daily basis, I find myself literally screaming to the errant driver in front of me “You. Are. In. The. Goddamned. Circle! JUST. DRIVE!!!!”
It seems that “just driving” is a dying art. Too many people today are far to busy talking, texting, reading, doing their nails – and in at least one instance, perusing a newspaper – to actually just. Drive. And these are not even the worst.
No, the worst are those who are just ignorant of our traffic laws and culture. The worst are those who don’t seem to realize that when you’re IN the damned circle, you JUST. DRIVE!
Another “fan favorite” are those folk who feel that going ten miles under the speed limit is the safer route. It’s not. Especially when I’m about to put a boot up your bumper because I’m directly behind you, and trying very hard to just. Drive.
Listen, I’m not a bad driver. I’m just an aggressive driver with a bad temper, and a place to be getting to. One who – oddly enough, ever since I quit smoking – becomes simply enraged when I find myself trapped behind someone who can’t JUST. FREAKIN’. DRIVE!
So, if you ever see me coming up behind you in a rather aggressive fashion, do me a favor will you, and simply just. Drive.
• NCSCI280 – Global Warming – A Hype Or Reality?
She stared at him with hardened eyes. How could he? How could he sit there so smugly and actually attempt to make her believe that any of this was her fault? It wasn’t she who invented plastic. It wasn’t she who created the logging industry. Her name could not be counted among those responsible for creating engines that filled the air with noxious fumes. And she had nothing at all to do with factories, daily spewing forth similar pollutants. No, none of this was her fault. None of it at all.
So how could he ever say things like “we’re all to blame” and “we can all pitch in to effect a change.” What was he, out of his hippie mind? Well, maybe he could take blame, but she sure wouldn’t. Maybe he could stop driving, but she couldn’t. Didn’t he understand? She had a job to go to. She HAD to be there. The office was far too far away to bicycle, and she had no earthly idea why he would bring that up as an option any way. Besides, doing something like that might muss her hair. Sure, buses were an “option.” Assuming you didn’t mind sitting next to smelly people, who were most likely only there to mug you anyway. And never being able to come as you go as you please – imagine! That would never work for her. And yes, she knew that carpooling was yet another option (these damned environmentalists, always so chock full of ideas). But honestly, had he ever met the people SHE had to work with, he’d quickly realize how unrealistic that option was. Humph. Wouldn’t that be lovely? Make HIM sit in a car with those silly old crows for a drive in and back, and then see how quickly he’d recommend THAT idea next time.
No, he was one of those “goodie two-shoes”, hell bent on twisting the real world into some sort of tree-hugging fantasy land. All for the stupid idea that “our children deserve a planet too.” What did that mean, anyway? Hasn’t the planet always been here? Why would it ever go away? And certainly, scientists had proved that the changing tides and the increased temperature were merely “cyclical”. She knew she had seen it written somewhere. She was sure of it. No, it was quite obvious that the whole “global warming” thing was just another scare tactic, brought about by commie pinko’s hell bent on removing every last freedom she had.
As she took another drag from her cigarette, she became even more embittered. More calcified. She was mad at him. Enraged even. It wasn’t her fault. She wished he were still there so she could scream it at him again. As she sat there with her car idling in neutral, she seethed. For a good ten plus minutes she sat there, car idling, rage boiling. Not. My. Fault! Counting down to ten, she didn’t calm down nearly as much as she hoped, but proceeded to slam the car into “drive” and race home at breakneck speed anyway. Driving much too fast between the signals, and slamming the breaks much too hard whenever a red one demanded that she stop. So what? She would have to fill up more than the others who drove at a safe speed, and she would have to change her brakes more often to. She supposed that he would’ve blamed that on her as well?
When she finally arrived home, she realized that she had once again left all the lights on. She supposed had he been there, that he would bully pulpit her about energy waste. What did she care? She paid her bills. It was her house – her life. Not his. When you’re as busy as she was, you can sometimes forget stupid little things like turning down the lights. She opened the trunk and became enraged once more. There before her sat the tidy plastic bags, each containing no more than five items each. It was these bags that began the argument, or as he called it, the “conversation.”
“Can I use fewer bags, please miss? It’ll be good for the environment.” No. No, he could not. More than five items per, and the bags would become too heavy. The bags would become too heavy, and then tear. “Well, can I at least interest you in these eco-friendly cloth bags?” Again, no! What a pitch! What a deal! This little salesman costumed as a cashier wouldn’t get the better of her! This entrepreneur disguised as an environmentalist wouldn’t grab her coin through trickery. Of course “it’s good for the environment” if you can make a profit off of it. No, the plastic bags were free, so the plastic bags were good enough for her. “But miss, the plastic bags aren’t free. They’re costing us our ecosystem, they’re costing our descendents a livable planet!” And that was when she lost it. And damned right that she did. “A livable planet?” Again, there has always been one, so there always will be. And if she was proven wrong in the final analysis, what did she care? She’d be dead by then anyway. And besides, her spending way too much for a couple of flimsy fabric bags surely wouldn’t have any impact anyway. The whole thing was a ruse, a scare tactic, a pitch. And she was falling for none of it.
She kept the refrigerator doors open fully until all of her groceries were loaded up (but only after she had first emptied from it the spoiled contents that had built up over the week, half a garbage can’s worth). And once her chores were done, she wiped the sweat from her brow and poured herself a nice tall glass of lemonade, before going to the back porch to enjoy stargazing at the February sky. Particularly beautiful this time of year in Buffalo. It had been another hot one – almost seventy five degrees – and if this kept up, she could only imagine what the summer would bring. Yes, it was getting warmer. But that was hardly her fault.
Still here? Good for you, you deserve a pickle…! Thanks for reading all the way through! And for many of you, thanks for hanging out with me up to 200 times now – I appreciate it that you do!