Vehicular Weirdness

Today has been a very odd day in terms of on-the-road activities. First of all, it always throws me off on Tuesdays and Thursdays, when I leave home an hour later than on other days and so I miss the friendly school crossing guard who sits on a lawn chair on the side of the road and waves like he's on a float in the July 4th parade. So today, like always, I looked for him and he wasn't there and I remembered that it was Tuesday and then I glumly went on about my driving. Until! A teenager zipped down the sidewalk on Rollerblades, pulling a Very Large Dog in a little red wagon. And since that's exactly the kind of thing that perks me up, my day instantly got about 20 times better.

And then, I get to campus and a highly rude driver cut me off and turned left in front of me. In all fairness, I do usually let people turn in front of me at that particular intersection because otherwise, the opposite side of the road gets all backed up and I feel bad for them, but still. I don't like when other people just ASSUME that I'm going to let them turn in front of me. When that happens, it brings out the mean, ugly side of me that honks and thinks very bad thoughts.

So while I was thinking bad thoughts and driving around the DARK parking deck looking for a spot that wouldn't require me to walk an extra mile, an extremely unintelligent human being who was dressed all in black decided it would be a good idea to cross the street DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF ME. In the dark. Wearing black. Oh, and did I mention it was dark? As it turns out, my brakes might squeal horribly, but they do work extremely well. Luckily for him.

The first spot I found was unusable because the car next to it had parked over the line and there was no human way that I could wedge mine into the space. The second spot I found was unusable because there was a girl standing in the middle of it, presumably saving it for someone. The third spot I found was usable, but quickly, illegally, and unethically snatched up by THE SAME RUDE DRIVER who had earlier cut me off. So I parked in the fourth spot, which as luck would have it, turned out to be BETTER than the first three spots. So ha! Take that, Person Who Can't Park, Annoying Girl, and Rude Driver. Oh, how I do enjoy karma.

Roaches and Ants and Gnats, Oh My!

So when we first moved into our current apartment, we were quickly confronted by cockroaches, which freaked me out to no end. In fact, my desire to own things like a bed became much stronger as a result of the roach incident(s) because to my way of thinking, the more distance there is between me and the floor (aka, the domain of the Roach), the better it is for all involved. Fortunately for me, aside from one incident a couple of weeks ago when a roach hopped on my foot and made me hop about 5 feet in the air, these particular nuisances haven't been back.

Notice how I said these particular nuisances? That's because other nuisances have made their presence very well known. Ants, for example. As of yesterday, we have ants in our bathroom. Lots of them. And they're not even in a line, so there's no way of telling where they're coming from. All I know is that I have no fewer than four ant bites on my feet and I am most displeased. And gnats. I think the last time I bought bananas, a couple of gnats hitched a ride from the supermarket because now, they're buzzing around the living room. Granted, there are only a few of them, but that doesn't endear them to me any more.

Since I'd really like to be rid of both the ants and the gnats, I asked around at school to see if anyone else had these problems. Turns out Raleigh is the insect capital of the civilized world, because EVERYONE had an insect story to share. And you know what the common thread of all these stories was? THERE'S NO WAY TO GET RID OF THEM. Super.

School Zones

When I was in high school, we lived in Illinois, about an hour north of Chicago, so that's where I learned to drive. And near-Chicago drivers? They're really good at avoiding accidents at high speeds, but not always so great at following speed limits. If people in Raleigh made it their job to drive as fast as the near-Chicagoans did, there would probably be about five times more auto accidents here than there currently are.

Up until recently, I held this slow driving pace against the Raleighans. (Raleighers? Raleighists?) Because let's face it, it's no secret that I'm (a) impatient and (b) usually running late, so I like driving fast-ish. I say fast-ish because I'm not one of those crazy people who go 30 mph above the speed limit while weaving in and out of traffic. I don't have a death wish. But I also don't like being stuck behind people who don't appreciate the fast-ishness. I mean, seriously. If you're doing 30 in a 55 zone, you're just putting yourself in danger of being beaten to death with a golf club.

But I have come to realize that there are SOME instances when the slow Raleigh pace is a good thing, school zones being the example that comes most readily to mind. Now of course, all states have school zones and increased fines for speeding in a school zone and all that. But in Illinois? Not too many people cared. And every time I walked to school, I knew that I was essentially playing a high stakes game of chicken with every car on the road, most of which sported "My child is an honor student at such-and-such a school" stickers.

Here in Raleigh, it's a whole 'nother story. People actually SLOW DOWN in school zones. To 35 mph. Sometimes even 30 mph. The crossing guards don't fear for their lives. And very young people skip merrily across the crosswalk, confident in the knowledge that local drivers care more about not killing them than they do about making it to that 9:30 meeting on time. And I have to admit, it's very pleasant.

Running Hot And Cold

Seems to me it's time for another bulleted post, so hold on to your hats, here we go:

• Apparently, my physiology classroom is just bad luck for me because last week, I left my cell phone in there and this week, I lost my watch in there. However, the luck must not be ALL that bad because so far, I've found all the lost things.
• I brought a microwave meal for lunch because (a) I didn't want to have to walk all the way to the sandwich place, just to get another sandwich with the wrong toppings on it and (b) Amy's microwave meals are DELICIOUS and I had a dream that I was eating one last night, so of course I had to go straight to Food Lion this morning. My office mate, who is also a big fan of Amy's was able to guess BY THE SMELL FROM THE MICROWAVE which meal I was making. I'm seriously impressed.
• I stepped on yet another nail today as I was walking across campus. I feel like grave-injury-to-foot-due-to-carelessness-of-construction-workers is a fairly good reason to sue this darn university.
• My right arm is so hot it feels like it's about to melt into a puddle of goo. My left arm has goosebumps and if it could move of its own volition, it would be shivering. As a result, my right arm is sitting on the cold surface of my desk and my left arm is wrapped in a sweater.

Jumping Out Of My Skin

I had a childhood friend who, when asked if she was Black or White responded that she was "brownish-tan." I always liked that description and have come to consider myself Brownish-Tan as well. And one of the benefits of being Brownish-Tan is that the sun? It's not so much a problem for me because I don't burn all that easily. So I can wander around outside for as long as my heart desires without worrying that I'll turn red and peel and ache and all that. And it's nice. Very, very nice.

McMoose, on the other hand, is best described as "translucently pale." If it weren't for the reddish-brown hair and the blue eyes, I might very well believe him to be a vampire. And he takes pride in the knowledge that his ancestors were Vikings who wore cool hats. (I take pride in the knowledge that my ancestors had better sense than to wear horns on their head, but maybe that's just me.) And he burns. Badly. When we went to the state fair last October, he wore his hat backwards and as a result, had a red semi-circle on his forehead for days from where there was an opening on the hat. We have a giant dispenser of aloe, specifically designated for him to use when he burns.

And yet, when we went to a football game this past weekend? I burned. He didn't. My nose is peeling, my arm is blistering, and every time I've been out in the sun since then, I've felt like my skin is about to burn OFF my body. AND HE'S PERFECTLY FINE. Now I've heard about married couples starting to look like one another but this? This is taking it a bit far, I think.

Why I Prefer Email...

I've had several encounters with automated phone systems lately and I gotta tell ya--they've been fun. Of course, what I mean by "fun" is "so completely ridiculous that you have to wonder what's going on with the world." The first system was to activate a debit card and it was....interesting. I'm thinking that whoever came up with it was probably highly sadistic because here's how that *conversation* went:

Automated system: If you want to activate your Visa check card, please press 1 now.

Me: *presses 1*

Automated system: If you want to activate your Visa check card, please press 2, then pound now.

Me: *presses 2, #*

Automated system: If you want to activate your Visa check card, please press 1, then pound, then 1 now.

.......see? Sadistic. My second experience was this morning, when I called a doctor's office to make an appointment. Remember back in the day, when you'd call the doctor and the annoyed receptionist would pick up? I miss that annoyed receptionist. A lot. Because here's the alternative:

Automated system: Welcome to the so-and-so medical center. If you want to make an appointment, please press 1.

Me: *Presses 1*

Automated system: If you want to make an appointment for a routine physical, please press 1. If you want to make an appointment for a prescription refill, please press 1. If you want to make an appointment for our such-and-such clinic, please press 1. If you want to make an appointment because you are bleeding or have lost consciousness, please press 1.

And at this point, I hung up the phone because DID YOU HEAR THAT LAST OPTION? How am I going to be making a phone call if I have LOST CONSCIOUSNESS? Now maybe what they mean is "If you have lost AND REGAINED consciousness recently, please press 1." But if that were the case, don't you think you'd be dialing 911 instead? And also, notice anything strange about those options? Like maybe the fact that you're supposed to press 1 for ALL of those things? Which means that ridiculous list of options is COMPLETELY superfluous and the only reason to include it is to waste the patient's time? The patient who, by the way, might be bleeding and unconscious?

A Night's Tale

I'm writing this post at 8:20 in the morning. More to the point, I'm writing this post at 8:20 in the morning ON LABOR DAY. Which is a holiday. Which means that I could still be sleeping right now. Instead of which, I've already been awake for an hour-and-a-half, which means that today? On Labor Day? When I could have slept in? I actually woke up AN HOUR EARLIER than I would if it was a normal workday. In fact, for a person who was exhausted all day yesterday and who was counting down the hours until bedtime, my sleep was woefully interrupted all night:

11 PM: went to bed (an hour early because my eyes refused to stay open any longer).
2 AM: woke up feeling hungry. Tossed. Turned. Told myself that I was being unreasonable. Eventually fell back asleep.
3:15 AM: woke up feeling hungry. Tossed. Turned. Told myself that I was being absolutely ridiculous. Couldn't fall back to sleep. Drank a GIANT glass of water in order to trick my stomach into thinking I had eaten an entire turkey. Fell back asleep.
4:15 AM: woke up because McMoose was grumbling LOUDLY in his sleep. Came to the stark realization that maybe there's a good reason why people don't normally drink 12 ounces of water at 3:30 in the morning. Went to the bathroom. Went back to bed. Realized that I was still hungry. Counted hamburgers until I fell back asleep.
5:45 AM: woke up, still feeling the after effects of the water. Another trip to the bathroom. Ate a cookie to curb the hunger. Fell asleep fairly quickly.
6:50 AM: woke up feeling hungry AGAIN. Decided that this whole thing was just ludicrous. Got out of bed. Ate some dry cereal. Worked on my thesis proposal and was STUNNINGLY productive (Yay for me!).
8:20 AM: wrote this blog post.

So, ok. I didn't get to sleep in until noon, as per my original plan. But I DID get a lot done, considering that on any other day, I'd still be stumbling around half-asleep at this time of day. But the problem with all of this? I'm still tired. And also? I'm unreasonably jealous of McMoose, who stayed asleep during all of this. So now, I'm going to go make loud noises in the bedroom in the hopes of waking him up. Right AFTER I have some more cereal because OH MY GOODNESS, THE UNSTOPPABLE HUNGER!