Driving Paranoia

It might stem from the fact that, kept from taking Driver's Ed in high school due to my bitchy stepmother and having no one to teach me until I turned 19, I didn't even learn to drive until years after the general population of the country usually does. Add to that the horror stories my stepmom (yep, the same butch one as mentioned earlier) always told me about diabetics having severe reactions behind the wheel and killing small children playing in their backyards, and it's small wonder that I'm a little leery of driving a vehicle weighing several tons and controlled by me alone around a town populated by hundreds of thousands of these same vehicles, many driven by people that by all rights shouldn't even be allowed to leave their houses, let alone drive.

Now that I'm making somewhat decent money, the first thing that family members and friends like to ask me is when I'll be getting a car. Now, I do admit that the thought has crossed my mind. There would undoubtedly be certain benefits, such as being able to leave my house after six pm without worrying about how I'll make it back. (Yes, public transportation here is a black hole of stupid). I'd be able to take a much less stressful job, namely the nice one at the cable company that I wanted to take more than anything last month, but was unable to since the shift ended at 9pm and I'd have been stuck ten miles from my house in the dead of winter. I'd also be able to go to Jimmy John's, a sandwich shop that I adore but that does not deliver to my house due to distance.

However, I also have to consider the downfalls of purchasing a car. For one, the expense would be ridiculous. On top of the initial purchase and upkeep, not to mention fuel, insurance costs for a Type I diabetic would be astronomical. Aside from that, I'd much rather be spending that money on something cool, like a trip to Ireland or something.

I also have to keep in mind that my driving paranoia is real, and I find it pretty justified. I've always had a problem detecting insulin reactions in their early stages, which means that should I have one while driving, I might not even feel it until I was already pretty impaired. The very thought of that freaks me out...I've seen old episodes of Cops where a diabetic in reaction was pulled over on suspicion of drunk driving. They weren't arrested for it, of course, since they were able to prove the disease, but still...if I were driving as though I were drunk without even realizing I was doing so, well, I don't even want to think about it.

I'm sure that I'd be able to overcome this fear before too terribly long by always testing my blood sugars before I drove, but still. Even that doesn't away the possibility that something could happen. Which brings me to an entirely different facet of my paranoia: there's always the chance something could happen. Be it bad weather, a mechanical malfunction, the bad decisions of other drivers, a dog running into the road...the possibilities are endless. Now, of course I realize that this is something people face every day, and that nothing is 100% guaranteed to be safe. Yet I can't help but think that if more people were to consider these possibilities every time they got behind the wheel, there would be far fewer people on the road, and far more use of public transit opportunities.

I break into a cold sweat before I drive (on the rare occasions I have, of course), but once I get on the road, my nerves calm enough so that I'm not scared anymore. It's a little bit like the stage fright I used to feel before my solos in choir: I'd worry myself to the point of nausea before the performance, but the second I walked on stage, I was fine. I'm sure feeling freaked out beforehand is much better than the opposite, but I'd rather not lose sleep over it if I can help it. Just like with my asshole sales job...I'm leaving that as soon as I can find something not quite as assholish or that deprives me of sleep and sanity. Which, when it comes to the latter, I very well have none of to begin with.

As much as it sucks, and as much as I feel like a fool for being so paranoid about something so seemingly simple, I have to say that I don't really envision myself driving on a regular basis at any point in my life. Of course, to make this plan work, I'll most likely have to move to a major metropolitan area (NYC, Chicago) where public transit isn't an issue. Who knows, at this point I'd be satisfied if the damn bus went by my house later than 6pm.

Thoughts on Bathrooms (or, the most random post ever)

The other night, after a long day at work, I wanted nothing more than to take a nice, relaxing, hot bubble bath. I proceeded to fill the tub with an absolutely delicious-smelling mango scented bubble bath, got out my nifty little bath pillow and settled in. Somewhere between thinking "This is really relaxing," and "I'd better put some more hot water into this before it ices over with the window being open," I turned my head to the left...to catch sight of the toilet, sitting not two feet away from my head.

Suddenly, all the sweet-smelling bubblebath in the world couldn't mask the fact that I was bathing in such close proximity to a waste receptacle. Now, I do understand why this is so...bathrooms in general are where the type of plumbing that is conducive to both bathing and...well, other things that I won't mention simply out of decency happens to be located. However, it seems strange that in such a supposedly "advanced" society as the one we live in today, such functions aren't kept separate out of some innate sense of decency.

I'm reminded more and more of this old, crappy, rather run-down house I rented a room in when I was attending an actual university as opposed to a community college. The place was drafty, damp, and didn't even have modern three-pronged outlets, let alone any sort of cable TV or possibility of such. No internet, either. Anyway, in spite of these deficiencies, this old crappy house was the most advanced I've ever lived in, at least in terms of bathroom logic. One such room was devoted entirely to a the toilet and sink, with another (separate!!) room for the shower alone. 'Twas bliss, showering there. Of all the things I miss about about that town (which are admittedly very few) the solitary shower room is the one I remember most frequently.

I realize that this rant is pretty random, and for the most part rather nonsensical. Most of the time, thoughts such as these never even enter my head, and I'm pretty sure most people aren't thinking about their toilets as they bathe. But if you really give bathroom layouts some thought, the whole thing is pretty disgusting. Not quite as disgusting as the baths I currtenly have to take since this apartment doesn't include a shower, but I digress. When I have the money to design my own house, the first thing I'll insist on is a separate showering/bathing area...and a bidet somewhere very near the toilet. But that's another entry.

Rainbow Toe Socks

Okay, so I was reading Lisa Parrish's blog over on OurChart yesterday, and she took a picture of herself wearing these fantastic cashmere socks in purple, pink and blue. (By the way, Lisa Parrish has officially stolen my heart...and she wears hot glasses). Anyway, after seeing these glorious socks I was inspired to rummage around in the back of my closet for the fabulous rainbow toe socks I haven't worn since high school. After releasing squeals of glee at finally locating them under some old yearbooks, I donned them posthaste and spent the next few hours glancing periodically at my feet, laughing every single time I did so. All in all, it was a rather joyous, liberating experience, aside from my one complaint that toe socks as a rule aren't exactly comfortable.

In the midst of my bordering-on-insane happiness over such a small, seemingly meaningless thing, I couldn't help but realize that it had been far too long since I'd really taken the time to enjoy something simple. It seems that anymore, ever since I've entered what they call the "adult world" (and to which I still feel like an outsider looking in) my happiness has been measured largely in terms of the opportunities a particular action will end up presenting, rather than in something purely for the sake of itself.

I've been trying for years not to take my life so damn seriously. I envy those who see every day as nothing more than a big joke, and I'd love to be able to see the funny in things more often than the hardship and possible ramifications of every little thing. I've become someone I despise, to a large extent. When I was a kid, dreaming of being a grown-up, this incessant worry and general grumpiness definitely weren't part of the dream. Granted, I'm sure a lot of my current disposition has a lot to do with the way I grew up and ended up leaving the house I was raised in, but even that affords small comfort. I'd always seen myself as strong enough to break the cycle of the environment I was used to, to create my own happiness. I feel that for the most part I've failed in the attempt, and what saddens me the most is that I didn't even realize this until very, very recently.

My encounter with my silly and gloriously gay rainbow toe socks was something of an epiphany for me, one that began last Friday morning on Interstate 74 somewhere between Peoria and the Quad-Cities. I was settled into the passenger seat, listening to my nifty little mp3 player, and the ultimate driving song came on shuffle. That's right, The Indigo Girls' Closer to Fine. Call me unoriginal, I don't care. That song is awesome and fucking poetic if you really let yourself hear it. As I listened to the lyrics, I started to think about my life, really think about it for the first time, and what I found hiding in the recesses of my mind scared even me.

I didn't do it consciously by any means, but ever since the fallout and eventual eviction from my parents' house, I've been expecting the world to repay me somehow. Seeing that in print makes me wince, since I thought I was a better person than that, but it's true. I played the martyr for years, victimizing myself in much the same way Jenny's fond of doing on The L Word. I haven't taken control of anything, waiting instead for something "worthy" to come along and expecting others to give me the support I was sorely lacking in my childhood home.

It's bullshit, folks. Complete and utter bullshit, and as the farm fields flew by me at 85mph all I could think was that it's time to go. It's time to do something. The world doesn't owe me a thing, and the only reason I'm depressed and lonely all the time is because I choose to live that way. I don't want to anymore. I don't want to wake up every day still waiting for my life to begin. I don't want my life to pass me by and never even realize it's slipped away without me even realizing it, constantly fretting and grumbling about how bad it is when I have all the power in the world to change it.

I know it won't be an overnight recovery, but it's time to start living. I've been given a reasonably sound mind and an ability, however slight, to manipulate and shape words into comprehensible and sometimes even eloquent thoughts, and I want to use these gifts to express myself in whatever way I can. I want music to fill me up again, totally and completely, like it did when I was younger. I want to go buy a cheap acoustic guitar and a cheap keyboard and just play, without giving a damn if it sounds good. I want poetry to build itself in my head overnight, only to beg for paper in the morning. I want to see the humor in everything, and point it out to others when they can't see it for themselves. I want to enjoy myself, not just sometimes, but in everything I do. I want to have a community, people to relate to...and for the first time in my life, I think I can have all those things.

So thank you, Lisa Parrish, and thank your cashmere socks.

Recap site

Yep, further proof that I have no life whatsoever and am far more obsessed with The L Word than I rightfully should be considering it kinda sucks. That's right, people, I started another journal just to recap the episodes. It's yonder. Pathetic? Maybe. Even probably. Fun? For me, yeah. Duh, I wouldn't do it otherwise.

I really need some sort of a social life. Or at least the ability to sleep regularly. Anyway, I'll put the link for it up on the sidebar thingy. Originally I was going to use FreeWebs and make a site, but I'm teh dum when it comes to groovy computer stuff and it pissed me off too much. At least I can somewhat use LJ, so there ya go.

In other news, I have a computer class starting the 27th...Saturday mornings, so I can work my telemarketing job, which starts February 5th. Which is fine, I just always hated weekend classes and I'm sure this will be no exception. I'm also taking an Environmental Biology class online. Bleh. I want to take a writing course, but I've already taken all the creative writing stuff offered by the school, so that's a no-go. Oh well, after this semester of part-time poor-person study, I'll be off to an actual university to get an actual degree. Also, none of the books I needed were in stock, so I get to take a lovely two hour bus ride tomorrow to go check. Whee. But hey, I'll get some use out of the groovy mp3 player I got for Christmas, filled with really crappy 90's pop. Yep, that's right, I admit it. Dishwalla was such an awesome band.

I've decided that I'd like a girlfriend. I have now been single for 14 and a half months, and it's making me lonely. That is all.

Phone etiquette and suchlike

I know this will seem really nitpicky, but it bothers me...and what's the point of having a blog if you don't rant about things that bug you? None, I say. And so:

I realize that we live in an age of high technology, and with this comes the desire to multitask. Whether it be the simultaneous usage of the computer and the phone, the computer and the TV, the TV and the phone, the cell phone and driving (which should be outlawed everywhere, dammit), or just multiple programs at the same time on the computer, we all have a tendency to focus on more than one thing. (This could very well be one of the reasons behind such a high occurence of ADHD in children, although I do feel that the condition has become more of a blanket term...but I digress).

Aside from the obvious danger of driving while gabbing about the recent events on TV, most of these don't bother me too much. Hell, I do the same things, and I can completely understand having things on for background noise while doing something else. But seriously, people...if you're going to talk to someone on the phone, do that, instead of sitting there with the TV volume up, sitting in silence watching your show while the person on the other end listens to you breathing heavily (while listening to the anchors on SportsCenter describe whothehellknowswhat). This gripe doesn't pertain to watching a show WITH someone over the phone, that's completely different.

I have two friends that do this incessantly, and it drives me nuts. It's fine if you want to watch TV, really it is. TV's great. But I don't give two shits about what you're watching, and frankly I think it's rude for me to be talking about something only to realize that the person on the other end is paying more attention to the TV than to me.

Bleh. Manners, folks. It's rude.

Now that that's out of the way: I've decided to go ahead and jump on the L Word recapping bandwagon, and will have a site up for that shortly. I'm not sure what service to use, really...I might just open up another LJ, or get a site on FreeWebs, or something equally free. I'm not paying for something that's basically just to pass the time. I don't really have a reason for wanting to do this in the first place, aside from the fact that I'm bored. Which, when it comes right down to it, is pretty much the reason behind most things I do.

I finally had my tooth, and several others, removed. It's nice to be drugged up, but I can't really leave the house, so I'm pretty bored. Which of course means that I'll be writing more fanfic and poetry than ever, as I have no social life to speak of, can't work due to antibiotic ingestion, and have no classes beginning until the 16th. I really am one of the most boring people on earth, aren't I?

Bleh. Still no clue where I'll be in 8 months, but it certainly won't be this apartment. I feel like I'm 16 with a curfew again.

Randomosity

I'm still in one of the seven circles of tooth pain hell, and it's getting worse by the day. I'm surviving due to a combination of Anbesol and Extra-Strength Excedrin, which isn't all bad. I just feel like I'm floating more often than not, and I'm not capable of doing much besides sleep and type. I can't wait until my dental insurance kicks in...at the job I haven't yet started. Meh, hopefully my old dentist will take pity on my horribly swollen face and inability to speak and set me up on a payment plan or something. Here's hoping!

My New Year's wasn't bad. It wasn't extraordinary, but it definitely wasn't bad. I spent the countdown on the phone with my friend Becky, and neither of us caught the exact turnover because we were watching ABC, which celebrates on east coast time. So yeah, we missed the new year and just gabbed at each other instead. Better than being an idiot at a party or something. I really hate holidays where I and everyone else on earth are expected to be a drunken fools and thought of as losers if they're not inebriated.

I don't have any official resolutions, as I never keep the damn things anyway, but I do want to make an effort to get my health on track. I've pretty much neglected my diabetes for 24 years now, and I'm not getting younger. It'll be baby steps for awhile, and I'll never be a health nut, but I do want to make a serious effort. I also want to quit hiding from any sort of social interaction whatsoever. I'm way past the partying stage in life, but I'd love to be able to face human interaction without breaking into a cold sweat. I think I'm making progress, albeit slowly, from the fact that I can talk to people I've met online on the phone now. Six months ago I'd have just not answered, so yeah.

I feel like I should be making some effort to grow up. I have several ideas on what I want to do with my life, but as of right now I don't really have much desire to start on any of them. At this point, starting a steady job will have to be enough. I guess I just don't want to get stuck here. I've reached the point in my life where I can physically feel time passing me by, and as it does I lose more and more of my life by doing nothing with it.

Okay, enough of that. It's only a few days until the new season of the L Word, and I'm excited about it as any nerdy lesbian should be. Mostly because these people are hot (well, the great majority of them are. There are a couple exceptions). Anyway, yeah. That's pretty much it from my end.

jobs, money and writing

Are what's making up my life right now. Tuesday at 9am is my big interview for the sales position, and I'm really nervous but excited at the same time. It'll be my first full time gig, and it's good money for someone still lacking any sort of degree.

I won't know what my grades are for a few days, but I'm immensely relieved that the semester's finally over with. I found a check for $250 from the school today, since apparently they underpaid me this past semester in my financial aid refund. It was a hell of a good surprise. Sad as it is, I'm starting to get burned out on school, which is why going part-time for the next 8 months will be good for me. It'll also give me a chance to figure out what I want to do.

I'm still insanely interested in speech pathology and linguistics. I dropped out of the program at Illinois State, but I really think it'd be a rewarding career since I love children so much. My little brother was born with a cleft palette, so I know a little bit about speech problems in children, and I know how frustrated I was as a kid with limited hearing...for a few years they thought I was mute or retarded since it was hard for me to form words. In reality I just couldn't hear them that well. I'm still about 90% deaf in my left ear, and I qualify for a hearing aid, but I can hear pretty well out of the right one, so I'm trying hard not to resort to that. Whwn I was younger my right ear was bad, too, which is why it took me so long to talk. Luckily, my ear canal has cleared of blockage a little bit over the years, and I can hear pretty well now unless you're on my bad side. Which means if I'm a passenger in your car, talking to me isn't such a good idea. Anyway, all this stuff is basically why I want to be a speech pathologist.

I'd also love to be a travel agent. I wanna go places! I'm just worried I wouldn't make much money. But it'd be easy to get certified, so I probably will at some point. I also love interior design, but again, the money issue. What can I say, I'm greedy. I'm also diabetic and need money for medications. Yeah. But I love to decorate and think it'd be a kick-ass job.

On top of all that, though, I want to write. More than anything on earth, and if I could do that for a living I'd be the happiest person on the planet. Maybe someday I'll be able to live my dream and write for TV or movies or something...maybe publish some poetry. I suck at novels, though, and would shoot myself if I ended up writing like Danielle Steel or someone like that. Anyway, I'll probably always do it on the side somehow, but getting paid for it would be a dream come true.

Anyway, yeah. I think I'm done babbling, and I need to get my lazy ass working on fanfic.