Dear DFW Driver,

When you keep ten cars from getting through the light because you sat running your mouth on your cell phone while traffic passed you on the right and left, I reserve the right to shove said cell phone so far up your ass that your teeth play "My Humps" the next time you get a call. Deal?

And since we're on the subject, on the freeway, the left lane is reserved for passing; it isn't reserved for YOU. Use it, leave it, use it again, but don't hog it like it belongs to you and you alone. Usually you are talking on the phone (see above) but that's no excuse. Move the fuck over. I recently drove all the way from New Orleans to Dallas and didn't encounter one, not one, left lane hogger until I crossed the Texas state line. And there they were: the SUV hoggers, the massive pick-up truck hoggers, all just hoggin' that lane because apparently it had been reserved for them and them alone. You are not the pace car and this isn't the Indy 500. Get outta the way! I reserve the right to mount dual RPGs on the front of my car to move you out of the way if necessary (I'm in the process of importing an Iraqi explosives specialist as we speak). I also reserve the right to drag you from your car and beat you senseless because it's the only way to stop future generations of left lane hogs as I'm pretty sure it's a genetic defect.

Oh, and one more thing: those blinky things on the sides of your car, on the front and back? They are called "signal lights" and are used to "signal", i.e. "communicate" to other drivers what your intentions are. Therefore, please use them. And don't use your left turn signal to signal a right-hand turn. It may be "opposite day" in your world, but the rest of us are on real time. Kapish?

Bushisms...

I was just reading in the paper that the continued uptick in violence in Iraq is probably due to the insurgents attempting to embarrass Emperor, er, President Bush before his State of the Union Address. Surely Al-Quada has access to the five or so editions of "Bushisms" already in print. They would know that the Prez needs no help in embarrassing himself. In fact, self-embarrassment is one of the few things he is actually competent at. Every time he opens his mouth it's embarrassing. Maybe we should get together and send the jihadists copies of the "Bushism" books and they will see that they can stop the violence if all they are attempting is embarrassment for the President. He's doing a "heckuva job" of that one all by himself.

The long, slow plod to spring...

Let me start by saying I am NOT a winter person. Not at all. I was born and raised in Florida and my blood and my body just are not adapted to the cold. Anything below 75 degrees has me reaching for the carbs and the sweats. The two years I spent living in the D.C. area - one of those years marked by a "100-year snowstorm event" that completely buried my Miata for a full week - still wake me from my dreams with the shivers. Now I live in Texas and I have solemnly vowed never to move any farther north. All subsequent moves must be in the southern direction. Note: I reserve the right to change my mind and begin trekking northward should this global warming trend continue. By my calculations Montreal will be a beach resort by 2069.

But even here, in moderately temperate Texas, it does get cold and we've been in the midst of an unusual cold and wet spell. Again, here in Texas even if it does get cold (like 32 degrees) it doesn't last long. Usually within two days or so, you are back in the 70s and taking the top down on the Miata, basking in the glory of your sensible decision to live in a sensible climate. But not this year. It's been cold, cold and relentlessly grey. The only upside is a "snow day" we got last week when the roads iced over. It's endlessly amusing to sit home all day watching the local media frenzy at the impending doom of the "ice storm".

What makes all this even worse is that I am a school employee and I am Pavlovian-ly (this is a reference to behaviorism and slobbering dogs) attached to the school schedule. We are conditioned to begin school by counting down to the Labor Day holiday which is usually only a few weeks away. Then there's a longish uninterrupted stretch until "Fall Break" in early October. "Longish" being only four weeks in "real" time but more like four months in "public education" time. Then the real fun begins. Another four weeks until Thanksgiving break and then another three-and-a-half weeks to the granddaddy of all school breaks: Christmas. Or "Winter Break" in public education-speak. Then after that long, lovely stretch of free time, we are back in January with only MLK Day to look forward to. And now the long, slow plod to spring break, made more difficult by the intractable cold - and my friends to the north can just shut up. I know in Northern terms 30s and 40s isn't "cold"; it's sandal weather. But I'm a Floridian and we remain proudly candy-assed when it comes to the cold. So I drag through the days, never warm no matter how tropically high the thermostat is set. My winter energy use is probably responsible for that big chunk of ice that fell off Canada not too long ago. I make no apologies. I'm thinking on this cold, gray January day that maybe global warming can be a good thing. Imagine a swimming pool with an infinity edge at the top of Mt. Everest. Of course, I'd never go there; I'm afraid of heights.

Crafty or crazy?

So I'm watching The View (a guilty pleasure) and they have this "crafty mom" who does a segment on cooking for/with kids. But she makes all the foods into toys or faces, like apple slices with marshmallow teeth. Every friggin' thing is just so cute and cuddly. Am I the only one that feels like she's bordering on cannibalism here? Then she mentions something about how all this crafty cooking shit makes kids "self-sufficient" and flash forward twenty years to this geek named Skippy who's cooking for his girlfriend and serves her up food with cute little faces and carrot ears. Skippy ain't getting laid anytime soon.

And a segment on GMA (really, I'm on auto-pilot at this time of the morning) and they are talking to twenty-something girls (sorry but none qualified as "woman") who feel all this pressure when they read about other girls their age that have achieved so much and are making so much money and how they feel inadequate. Ok, you want inadequate? Watch one of those specials about some 12-year old who raised a million bucks for Afghan refugees while your biggest accomplishment to date (as a 43-year old) is getting out of bed and getting dressed. Now THAT's inadequacy. On the other hand, that 12-year old has nowhere to go but down. Me on the other hand, could still peak. If I could only get out of bed. And no, I'm not depressed. Bed is the sane option when faced with another day. There is no war in bed, no one to piss you off, no one to ask you questions that really aren't any of their business and then you have the endless internal debate on whether to slap them down politely (which means they'll be back) or to slap them down permanently (which means they'll never speak to you again and their kid will be shitty to your kid until one of you moves away). Sigh. So many questions. Frankly, it's a sign of mental illness to bound OUT of bed every morning. The only thing luring me out is coffee and the urgent need to pee...