Sunday, February 28, 2010

See, I'm not making this whole chef thing up!

I am actually being productive today, which is pretty rare for a Sunday. I am making vegetable stock and finishing up my sister's bridal shower invitations AND blogging. I should get some kind of productivity award.

So, last weekend, I did a catering event at my parent's house for school. The whole premise was that we create a menu for a school project. We then had to have photographs of the food, so, we made the food and did a tasting for some family and friends. Tini and 2 of my other fellow culinarians were there helping out. All in all, I would say it was a success. It was our first time doing something like this and our timing sucked. But, the food rocked. And since there are many of you that do not know me in person and therefore have never tasted anything I have cooked, I wanted to share some of the photographs here. Enjoy!

Caesar Salad with homemade dressing and croutons

Consomme Colbert

Vichysoisse (a cold potato and leek soup)

Wilted Lettuce Salad

Chicken Tikkas with Cilantro Mint Chutney

Risotto Portobello

Braised Short Ribs served over Celery Root Puree

Seared Scallop with Tomato Buerre Blanc

And below is a Caramel Apple Napoleon. Blogger is being difficult, so the caption is going above it.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Always put alcohol in your coffee

I am writing a blog post in response to a blog post. This is too much for a comment and such a huge part of my life too, I wanted to share it here.

Read Tini's post here:

I woke up this morning and felt five steps to the left. I just wasn't right, things just weren't right. I got to school at almost the exact same time as Tini, in fact we were on the phone when I parked next to him. I went through the motions and I barely looked at him all day. I couldn't. I was scared I would see it in his eyes and I would just lose it. So, I kept myself busy. I took the responsibility of red neck and buried myself in it, making certain everyone was on task at all times. I made sure Tini was working on things I was not.

This was probably a dick move on my part, I realize this. But, today wasn't goodbye for me. Tini sang and danced his way into my life forever and I know that I will see him. And soon. I am sad that it won't be everyday and I am scared to face school without him. But, today was emotional for him. Today was a day that I knew would be hard for him and I didn't want to be the person to make him cry. I didn't want to be the person that made today a huge event. If someone else had, I would have been there for him in a nano second. I was never far away and was sure to keep an eye on him, even when we were cleaning in different kitchens.

I walked out of the building, one of the only times in 16 weeks, without him. I got in my car and I burst into tears. I drove home and felt like an ass hole that I just let him walk into that office alone to sign the papers that, temporarily, ended his dream. But, I knew I couldn't be there. I knew it would only be worse if I was there, sobbing like a baby. I knew it would be that much harder.

A lot of our classmates sent me texts asking me to tell him bye, that they just didn't have a chance to say it. One of them made me promise I would give him their number. We all talk, constantly, about how much we are going to miss him. About how he is the glue that holds this group together. We joke constantly that he should get a lawn chair, a cooler, and an umbrella and just sit in front of the windows watching us cook. We joke about him coming up and sitting with us in the lunchroom between classes.

He may weave his way out of some of their lives, but there are more people than he thinks that won't ever forget him. And won't have to. Because he will be back in the fall and stop in our class, just like we will stop in his.

When I read his post, my heart broke for him all over again. And maybe I didn't handle this right, maybe I needed to show up on his door step with a bottle of jack and make him feel like P-Diddy. I chose to let him feel this, in his way, because that is what I would have needed. I hope that was the right decision.

Tini, I love you. Don't feel lost. You are just temporarily derailed.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Suddenly, I see my future...

Crisis averted. The week from hell is over. I panicked a little bit, admittedly. It just seems like sometimes I am sitting around on my couch twiddling my thumbs and the very next day a giant avalanche of shit falls from the sky. Can someone please tell the universe to space this shit out a bit? Because, really, it would help out a lot.

I got a 98% in my math class, which is not saying much. At one point, we were literally just counting votes. Counting, people, counting. I played bejeweled on my phone through that entire class. I never paid attention. Not once.

I killed my practicals and exam in kitchen, so I am fairly certain I got an A in that class. And the presentation that caused 4, 012 panic attacks? Tini made it his bitch. All I did was click through it (during the actual presentation) and he did all the talking and rocked it. I think it was by far the best one in our class. So, I panicked for nothing. You are all allowed to say I told you so and then scream WOULD YOU STOP FUCKING PANICKING ALL THE TIME at me. I deserve it.

On a totally unrelated note, my job is weird. Old people are weird. First of all, they are all devout republicans. This happened tonight:

Old Guy: Did you hear about that article in the paper that described what hell was like?
Old Lady: (giggling) No, what is it like?
Old Guy: A bunch of Democrats running the country. Oh, wait (hysterical laughter)

Insert me gritting my teeth and fake chuckling. Like, even if I wasn't a democrat, that joke would have been horrible. And they say things like "I don't even recognize America now that the blacks are running things." I know that they are harmless and if they were my age, they wouldn't feel that way. My grandparents say some really off color things too, they just don't know better and don't care to learn. But, I still cringe when I hear it.

Well, last night was happy hour. It was my first happy hour and, just wow. You know what is worse than sober old people? Drunk old people. One of my tables had me give them "just a little sip" like 14 times. By the end of the night, she had to be helped out of the dining room.

There is this one lady, though, that cracks me up EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. A lot of them have walkers, which I really think are just portable tables. They always have papers, mail, keys, or whatever on their little emergency seats. Except one resident. Every night, this little tiny lady with her bright red walker and four wine glasses strolls in. She was the first resident to remember my name and walks by and squeezes my arm every single night. She asks me how culinary school is and, if she is in my section, asks me what to order because "I know these things." I think we are kindred souls, because when I am 90 and living in a nursing home, you better believe that the wine will be flowing.

The best part of all? She always has a backup bottle in the basket under the seat. My kind of lady.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Nervous Breakdown: The Summary

I have sat down to write a blog post every day since my last one. Honestly? So much has happened in the past few days, I don't know where to start, or even if I can start.

This weekend was our catering event for our school menu project. We made an 8 course meal for 12 people. Each course contained 2 - 3 dishes. It was somewhere between a success and failure. The food was good...the worst rating we got was "fair." I can live with that. But, our timing was absolutely fucking horrible and I was a little embarrassed about that. All in all, though, I will put it in the win category. Tini and I worked a little on Thursday, all night Friday, and over 13 hours on Saturday. It was exhausting and the exact reason I will NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER be a caterer. Ever. In case you wanted to ask me to cater something, just don't. It won't happen. I would rather stab a baby. Or 12. Catering = dead babies. Remember that. Always.

I got a weird friend request on Facebook Friday, which led to me being distracted and distressed most of the weekend. I tried to hide it, but I just failed. It was my former step brother who used to sneak into the bathroom and watch me shower. His father was abusive to my mother. So, to say the least, the friend request was not welcome. I gave it a lot of thought and decided to see what he wanted. Turns out that was more members for his mother fucking Mafia. I unfriended him immediately. But, it made me decide to look up his sisters, whom I believe I was close to for those unspeakable years. One of them likened my sister and me to Anastasia and Drizella (Cinderella), which devastated me. To think I had a part in the pain that was all those years is something I have not yet reconciled. I don't know that I ever will. I had no idea, which I think makes it even worse. I was a kid too, but the fact that 13 years later she is still talking about that pain, specific to my mother (explainable), my sister and me, feels like a punch in the stomach. Typing this now is taking my breath away.

I had my first resident death at work. I only met him a few times before he was transferred to assisted living, but his wife I know well. I know that I need to put on a thick skin to this. I know that I have a lot more of these in my future. But, loss is loss. And watching my coworkers shrug it off as a normal occurrence is making it that much more tragic for me. These people, even the mean, crabby ones, are still people. Some one's mother, some one's wife, some one's daughter...and some of them I want to adopt as my own, and visit everyday and just love. Because they have no family. Nobody to visit. Nobody to bring them groceries or stop by for brunch on Sunday. It breaks my heart.

On top of all of this, it is finals week. My practical for Kitchen is a lot like the show Chopped...we get a cart of ingredients and have to make dishes from it. And I do not have a single day off this week. I will make it work, I always do. I am just a ball of stress and anxiety.

What scares me the most? Honestly? Tini leaving. This is his last term and I know that it is codependent and crazy, but I am going to fucking miss him. I know I will be OK and I know that we will hang out and get drunk and take inappropriate pictures and drunk dial people, but I will still miss him everyday.

I also found out that an old friend of mine has thrown his life away, which is tragic, but honestly doesn't affect me. What affects me is that he may be sleeping with a good friend of mine, who has no idea the STD's (and possibly AIDS) that he is infected with. I just don't know what to do. I called him, my good friend, but he did not return my call. And the thought of losing him, after all of this, to some stupid mother fucker who CHOSE to have unprotected sex with someone who is HIV positive makes me want to vomit. I will live on his fucking porch to make sure he is aware of this old friend's status. I refuse, REFUSE to let this happen. I know it is not my place and I know that I am violating every boundary in the book, but I love him too much not to violate him terribly. I am THAT kind of friend.

So, that is my nervous breakdown in a post. I am trying really hard to hold my shit together and I feel like I am failing at every turn.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Tiramisu, small forks, and fucking mustangs.

Today was one of those days where you contemplate driving off a bridge so you can avoid the rest of this day and spend some time in the hospital where it is relaxing and stress free. Comparatively speaking, of course.

I didn't sleep very well, so I started off a tad on the wrong side of the bed. And by a tad I mean, I screamed at someone for cutting me off. Like, if we were cartoons, their hair would have been blown back kind of scream. I was all, whoa, Erratic, deep breaths, let's not freak out fellow drivers. In an attempt to calm down, I honked at someone going too slow and then promptly gave them the finger when I sped past them going far past the legal speed limit.

Then I learned how to count in my quantitative literacy class. I am not kidding. We spent an hour and ten minutes listening to "OK, class count how many people wanted Mr. A to win (EVERYONE!) and how many wanted Mr. E to win (NO ONE.)" I renamed Mr. E Ralph Nader and NOBODY GOT THE JOKE. I felt old. Then someone said "wasn't there something about dangling chads back in the 60's or something" and I visibly started to wrinkle. Organs started shutting down when I corrected them and said it was hanging chads. Holy Fuck, kids. Holy fuck.

While driving to work, I just exited the highway. No explanation, just got off at an exit. The exit I used to get off at, oh, 8 years ago when I lived there. Who just exits the highway for no discernible reason? This chick, that's who. (in case you were wondering, I was pointing at myself.)

At work we ran out of spare ribs, tiramisu, caramel sauce, table cloths, small forks, and dignity. I found tiramisu and actually hid it under a table so I wouldn't have to say, yet again, that we were out. I got yelled at by the dishwasher, the chef, my supervisor, and a plethora of angry caramel deprived residents. Why? I wish I could tell you. There was something in the water at that place tonight and that something was whiny little bitch and misplaced anger.

All of this I could deal with, I was dealing with in a pent up rage could explode at any moment way. It's how I do it. But, then THEN the icing on the mother fucking non-existent tiramisu happened. I was pulling out of work, and the exit looks like this: (YAY! PAINT WITH ERRATIC)
Do you like my stoplight? I was pretty proud of that, so you better like the mother fucking stoplight., I am turning left out of Work I. And there is this fucking moron with a 5.0 liter Mustang stuck in the snow at the storage place. He obviously turned in to turn around. His solution? Gun it. Into traffic. There are A LOT of people that leave around 8:00. It is a huge facility. And he is just flooring it into all this traffic trying to leave work and go home and get fucked up because THEY HATE TIRAMISU. I see this happening and leave enough space that if he guns it, he will not hit me. Because if he hits me, I will likely kill him with one of the small forks I am now hoarding in my apron.

He stops gunning it, giving me the impression that he is going to wait until the light turns green and traffic clears. So, I pull forward when the light turns and he stars GUNNING IT AGAIN. Only this time, he is starting to get free. Smoke coming from his tires, gunning it. Like, at any moment, he is going to break free and T-bone the side of my car. I have no choice, I must back up. Luckily there was only one car behind me and saw what was happening, so he backed up too. I am not even kidding, mustang douche missed the front of my car by inches, smiles, waves, and then goes through the light, leaving me to sit through another red light.

I am just saying right now, for the record, if I was only a tiny bit crazier than I am, I would have followed that mother fucker home and slashed his tires.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Fuck you, snow. Fuck you.

I have said that phrase, oh, a million times in the past few weeks. The snow will not stop. I refuse to use the stupid ass catch phrases the media is coming up with like snowpocalypse, but can someone PLEASE remind the universe that I live in Ohio. Not Montana or Minnesota or Canada or Alaska or some other place that is prepared for this. OHIO.

Almost every single school district is already closed tomorrow, and it is not even 8:30 pm yet. They expect this to continue through tomorrow morning with an additional 4 plus inches of accumulation. We had 18 on the ground when this mess started this afternoon. I will let you guess how much we have now.

(I originally intended to insert the picture here, but Blogger has rebelled due to the MOTHER FUCKING SNOW so you get the picture at the top. I thank you in advance for scrolling up to look at the path and saying "awww...doggie foot prints")

OHIO. CENTRAL OHIO. And, yes, that is a little path plowed around the table so that the dogs can freely bark at the neighbors and just run a muck in general. They have a lot of pent up energy seeing as we can't leave the house to walk them because OH MY FUCKING GOD THE SNOW.

On a somewhat related "To Catch a Predator" note, the TV just informed me that Paige's Playhouse is closed tomorrow. Is anyone else concerned that this place was ever open? I don't care what you are actually selling...that place just has danger written all over it. And self gratification in XXX movie theaters.

Edit: I thought this was exaggerated, but just heard from Big Jed who drove by it, over FORTY cars involved in an accident on 71. FORTY MOTHER FUCKING CARS. Backed up for 20 plus miles. I am so happy I am home and that nobody was seriously injured. According to the news, people have been in traffic for 6 hours or more. Seriously, snow, seriously.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

I fail. And win! Then fail again.

The VERY first thing we need to talk about is how I spelled "lose" "loose" in the last post. Seriously, this is not something I do. And when I went back and reread it, I twitched a little. I have stopped reading blogs for repeated misspellings like that. So, I apologize. I am leaving it as a reminder of my own personal shame and failure.

The VERY second thing we need to talk about is how I am a redneck. WORD. I am super excited and have my first meeting tomorrow and kind of want to do cartwheels and skip and be all child-like giddy. Instead the boy took me out to dinner and I drank beer.

The rest of it was all thought out in my head and I was witty and interesting and you all would have been like, wow, best post ever. Then I drank beer and came home and took a shower and sat down and my brain completely shut off. There was something about a car and my feet and maybe how my hands are developing weird callouses. Hilarious shit. I'll let you use your imagination.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

The post where I loose my mind and half my readers.

I am on the verge of a nervous breakdown. OK, not really. I have never actually had a nervous breakdown. But, I feel really close. I have a tendency to take on more than I truly have time to handle because I want to be helpful and that woman who can do it all. Maybe I want to be a little show-offy too. I can't be sure.

But, this whole full time school, almost full time work, HUGE project due for school in two weeks, handmade bridal shower invitations that I HAVEN'T EVEN STARTED, and general day to day stuff like showering and eating and sleeping has become too much. I am doing what I tend to do when I am overwhelmed and that is pretending that none of it exists and lalalala everything is fine and great and wonderful.

I am reaching the point where I have to deal with all this shit, where I have to actually start working on it and being productive and not coming home every single night and playing The SIMS. I just have not figured all of this out yet, this schedule, this productivity thing. I don't have weekends anymore where I can dedicate a day to cleaning the house. I have half a Saturday and half a Sunday. When those days come, though, I don't want to be productive. I want to relax because it seems like I never get to do that. And weekdays? By the time I get home from school and work, I am so tired my brain sounds like Boomhower.

None of this even includes things like spending time with people I love or doing anything that is for me. I know that I have over a year more of this and that I better just suck it the fuck up and deal with it. I know people do this everyday. I know that I am bitching and whining and moaning and there are people out there working two jobs and raising a family. But, I am not them DAMN-IT I WANT A VACATION. Or at least a personal assistant. Or a clone.

How fucking cool would it be to have a clone? I mean, I am totally against cloning because just weird, but right now, it sounds like a really awesome solution to my problem. Or training my dogs to use an exacto knife and make stock. I realize that was kind of a weird sentence, but let's be honest, this whole post sounds like it was written by at least 3 of my 5 personalities.

The whole POINT of this was to say that if I become a little absent from here, it's not because I don't love you guys. It is because I am in the corner in the fetal position crying because I procrastinated and haven't slept in two weeks. Also, if you know me in real life and you ask me what my favorite color is and flip the fuck out, it is because I have made one too many decisions and lost my mind. I'm sorry. I wish I had a reboot button, but I don't. And I am all out of decisions for at least a month.

Also, still don't know if I am a redneck, damn-it.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Still don't know.

School got cancelled today at 1:00, so I am not holding out on you or hiding because I feel stupid. I just really don't know about the whole red neck thing. It is killing me too. And if it keeps up snowing, school may be cancelled tomorrow. They are trying to slowly kill me, I am convinced.

I am too tired to write something interesting and/or witty, so this is all you get. I promise to update as soon as I know more.

Also? Fuck you, snow. Fuck you.

Monday, February 8, 2010

I am going to need a lot of drugs and a lot of luck.

I am so nervous. The I will never sleep tonight, there is not enough Xanax in the world to calm me down nervous. The leadership society at school is called the Red Neckerchief Society, or as we all say, The Red Necks. They are elected by their class and they make up what is essentially a student counsel. Each class has two Red Necks. I found out last week that I was tied with another classmate for the second Red Neck position. I never expected to be in the running. In fact, I am fairly certain that people who are good friends of mine did not vote for me.

I know that I would be good at this, but I am not "popular." I don't fit that mold of the person everyone likes and wants to be friends with. I am OK with this, I am not 17. I did not attend culinary school to make friends. But, I want this. I really, really want this. I want it for my resume, I want it so that I can make a difference in the school. I want to leave my mark somehow on all of this, the way it has left it's mark on me.

When they interviewed me as part of the tie breaker, they talked about charity work and after hours events and I sat there with a stupid grin on my face. I WANT THIS.

I would be OK losing it to a worthy adversary. I would. My adversary is not a leader. He is that person who thinks he is leading, while actually just telling. He demands, he never asks. He belittles, he doesn't coach. He ignores instead of trying to help.

I don't know, maybe he is more deserving. I know that the extra work and responsibility is certainly not something I NEED. But, man, do I want it.

And I have absolutely no idea if I am the one who will get it. Wish me luck, I guess? Or may the best man win or some shit. I so lack that whole competitive edge...

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Seriously, I am not anti-semitic. Nor is the boy.

Since I am in school all day and work at night, the boy has been preparing the meals in the Erratic household. And he has been doing a really awesome job. Seriously. I am not even being sarcastic. He has totally stepped up to the plate around here and I have completely failed at being a productive member of this household. I will one day figure out a way to balance this full time school/work/life thing. One day.

I got home from work tonight and the boy had made pot roast, baked potatoes, and mixed vegetables.

"The meat is a little dry. It needs some A Jew."

"It needs what?"

"A Jew."

"You mean Au Jus?"

"Yeah, A Jew."

"Honey, I seriously hope that we are not eating meat covered in a Jewish person."

"Oh, hahaha. I meant Aww Juss."

Yes, this is really happening

I never do things like these. I know everyone always says that, but I really don't. I typically read them on other people's blogs, think I will never be cool enough for anyone to actually talk about ME on one of these, and move on.


Here are the rules:
1. Thank the person who nominated you
2. Copy the award and paste it in your blog
3. Link to whoever nominated you
4. Share 7 interesting things about you
5. Nominate 7 other beautiful bloggers

So, I guess here we go.

I don't remember why I started reading Bradshaw's blog. I quickly found out she was from my home town, liked sports, drank, and lived on sarcasm. That is pretty much all I require out of a friend. So, I stalked her, made a few random comments, then she commented on my blog, I squealed, and I have been watching her from afar ever since. I mean reading...reading her blog...from Ohio. Right. She also started following me on Twitter and it took me an eternity to figure out who she was. I had the dumb that day. I say "OH MY GOD ME TOO" almost every time I read her blog and will one day find her and force her to drink with me on a trip home. Thank you for making me feel legit and, you know, for being awesome in general.

Seven interesting things, huh?

1. I am extremely OCD with numbers. Things either have to be even or multiples of five, especially volumes on TV's and stereos. I count things off a lot too. I may need medication.

2. I am obsessed with serial killers. I wanted to be a criminal psychologist, but almost every job required that I carry a gun, which I am adamantly against, so I never pursued the degree. In fact, I am watching Criminal Minds as I type this and keep getting distracted and having to start over.

3. If I ever won the lottery, I would start an animal sanctuary where stray animals could live without the worry of existing only in a cage. I would hire my dad to run it. I would open my own restaurant.

4. I play cheesy computer games. Constantly. I have a yearly membership to and am obsessed with all Tycoon games. Also, The Sims. I have gone several days without sleeping when new games come out.

5. I have a birthmark on the top of my head and all the hair that grows out of it is blond. The rest of my hair is medium brown. Hair dressers constantly assume that I got really bad high lights.

6. I get motion sick and abhor flying. I would love to see the world, but could never stand the plane rides to do it.

7. I would eat my body weight in black licorice. I know most people hate it, but I absolutely love it. Love. It.

OK, my fellow bloggers.

1. Okay Seriously. Her shenanigans never cease to keep me laughing. And shenanigans is the ONLY word to describe it. The crazy stories she tells, whether injuring herself or taking a train ride that ended in a career as an elf, never disappoint.

2. Brutalism. She is one of the first people who started reading my blog that I didn't know personally. I almost peed myself. Twice. Every single time I read her blog, I just want to sit in my living room and drink wine with her.

3. One Plus Two. This woman is not just brave. She has some serious mother fucking balls. I admire her so much for her tenacity and unwavering beliefs. She is a good person in every sense of the word.

4. Violence Unsilenced. I know that this is not one person's blog and I know that it probably shouldn't qualify here, but this blog has given women so much strength and a voice that often went unheard before. That is the epitome of beautiful.

5. Zombie Fights Shark. He took a brief hiatus where I sat in the closet and rocked back and forth and cried. He is outrageously hilarious and vulgar and offends me every time he posts in a way I can't stop loving. He also kills hookers, which in it's own way, is beautiful.

6. Soliloquy of Whimsy. He is a brand new blogger and only has a few posts, but I expect great things of him. Also, if you are offended by "the gay" I would not read his blog. It doesn't get much gayer than this, kids. He is singing that Christina Aguilera song while reading this. I would bet my life on it.

7. Strange, Dark Gypsy Girl. She has been missing as of late, claiming a lack of inspiration. I get it, I so do. I refuse to remove her from my reader, in hopes that she will come back. I miss her hilarious interpretations of my word verifications. Sigh.

THAT WAS THE HARDEST THING I HAVE EVER DONE. OK, it probably wasn't. But, seriously, you guys, it was a lot of work.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Why does he never ask me to taste HIS food? Hm...

Sometimes secrets aren't yours to tell and sometimes you just have to put it out there. I have been weighing those two things for a few weeks now and have decided to share something here.

Tini is leaving school. I know that he has not been a huge part of this blog yet, but he has been a huge part of my life for the past 14 weeks. The very first day, we both tested out of math and had an hour to kill. We were fish out of water and, as I am prone to do, I found the biggest gayest fish and said, hey, let's go sit and talk. And we did. We talked about why we were there and the path that led us to CCI. To say that we have bonded is an understatement. We actually decided that we are codependent and probably cannot survive without each other.

He is the only one of my fellow students who reads this blog, the only one who I would ever want to read this blog. Financial reasons are forcing him to drop out until November. He will be back, and I know that. He will graduate and we will open a codependent restaurant and live in codependent bliss. But, I want him there with me. He is the only one who GETS food the way I get food. He is the only one who stands there, putting salt in grain by grain until it is perfect with me. He is the only one I trust to taste my food.

Yesterday, I walked up to him and asked to see his balls. Upon seeing his balls, I said, "Wow, those are some big balls." Then I poked his balls. And we giggled like school girls. Everyone else looked at me like I was crazy because I giggled every time someone said balls. He GETS it. (Matzo ball soup, by the way.)

I wanted to graduate with him. To experience all of this with him. I know that in the grand scheme of things, it's not a big deal. He'll be back and we'll "hey girl" in the hallway and he will be the biggest gayest person at my graduation, screaming his head off. And I will carry a sign that says "I will become a man for you" at his. He'll be the only one to laugh, and that is why we are friends.

Because when absolutely NOBODY else in the room gets it, we are looking at each other and cracking the fuck up because we are both "there."

Monday, February 1, 2010

Road Rage

So, texting while driving. Yes, there are times when I am driving down the road and think of something hilarious that I must tweet. And I try my very hardest to remember it, but by the time I am at a stoplight or somewhere safe to text, I have forgotten it and end up tweeting something along the lines of "trees are weird." Yes, that sucks. Because the original tweet was AWESOME. The reason I do not tweet while driving at 70 mph down the highway is because I value my life. I am so fucking sick of almost dying because some moron is too busy tweeting LOL to their BFF while driving.

Also? If you miss your exit, the appropriate response is to drive to the next exit and turn around. It is not to screech to a stop in the middle of the highway. Or to drive on a median. Or to pull on the side of the road and go in reverse.

And if you have a "W" bumper sticker, that is why I am purposefully driving like a jack ass. You should expect about 7 more years of this behavior.