I tend to love throwing in a well placed "fuck" or "shit"
to really drive my point home.
But when the hell did I learn to be such a
Walmart redneck Republican when it comes to driving?!?!
I blame the FIB license plate that has been affixed to my car for the past 5 years.
I was on my way into work the other day, and on the drive,
I got stuck behind this stupid rusty Lumina mini-van.
You know the type...
The kind of vehicle that looks like it was on its last leg in 1991.
(The same likely being said for its driver.)
That car that consistently taps on its brakes for no apparent reason,
insists on driving in the left lane despite going 15 mph below the speed limit,
and fails to ever use a turn signal
(probably because they haven't been functioning this century).
Enter: Soundtrack for the remainder of this post:
Now, normally, I don't care what kind of person you are
when I see you on the street.
I pride myself on being a very open person who will not judge you
on the color of your skin, your sexual preference, or your size.
However, apparently I become a total and utter ignorant redneck when I get behind the wheel in rush hour traffic.
Any stereotype or derogatory word I can think of about the driver in front of me
comes flying out of my mouth at 100 mph.
This is magnified when I am stuck in traffic and trying to get somewhere on time.
(Note: I consider "on time" being 15 minutes early.
This philosophy tends to increase my stress level immensely.)
Back to the Lumina.
I witness this extremely obese white arm toss Taco Bell wrappers
out the window and right onto the freeway.
I found myself in a rage! Calling the lady driver in this particular car a fat ass bitch.
I honked and hollered, "WTF Michelin Man! This isn't the GD dump!"
Not to mention,
where the hell did she find a T-Bell open at 6:30am?!?
Fat people connections.
But seriously, did I really just call this person who, granted was littering and driving insanely slow, a fat ass bitch? I don't know her or her situation.
She may have an underactive thyroid gland.
Maybe there was a giant bug on that wrapper and she simply lost her shit.
Maybe she is a totally nice person who brakes for squirrels.
(FYI - I don't brake for squirrels, they are fuckwads.
Judge me if you must).
Regardless, I immediately felt horrible remorse & consciously told myself to stop.
As angry as I can get with this lady in front of me,
it's not going to change her speed or her shitty driving & littering habits.
No need to develop pre-eclampsia over a half-eaten Chalupa
on a road I soon no longer ever have to drive on.
So, I am going to attempt to be more Zen on the road from now on.
(Occasionally allowing myself to dream of what it would be like to have James Bond
sniper guns affixed to the sides of my Toyota Yaris
and how great it would feel to blow her big beefy butt off the road,
straight into the wrath of Al Gore.)
But if not for me, I will do it for Baby.
Lord knows I don't want his first word to be a four-letter one.
Busy packing today.
(And secretly hoping I find myself in a serious purging mood.)
' Cuz I think it's safe to say that this quote is applicable to both me and the huzz:
Word.
The big move takes place manana.
Fingers crossed for no mishaps in the Penske.
Thank goodness my dad is here to help!
He says if Alex can successfully navigate through Ireland,
that driving a small semi on the IL toll roads amongst idiot FIBS
should be a piece of cake.
I hope he's right!
To really work on my zen as I prepare to take NP boards and give birth.
We're talking squeezing a baby out of my vagine.
For the very first time.
In just a few months.
You catch my drift?
Digital Camera.
With Zoom. And video capabilities.
I noticed on our trip to Ireland trip that my little Canon PowerShot from 2006
was taking dark, muddied photos of what should have been bright green brilliance.
This is clearly not acceptable with an adorable baby on the way.
(Not to mention much-needed improvement in foodie photography for this very blog!)
When I brought this up with the huzz, he said: "We don't need a camera. We can just take pictures of the baby with our phones." GASP! The horror!
But we all know that mothers know best.
And this matter is no exception. So I proceed.
I'm thinking I'd like to stick with what I'm most familiar with
(read: point and shoot),
but anybody knows that an SLR is just plain fantastic.
I'd like something without breaking the bank or looking like a paparazzi.
Yet along with fairly compact size, I want professional photag qualities, such as
quick shutter speed, major megapixels, HD video/sound, etc.
So after much review, I've narrowed it down to the following options:
(As a wonderful photographer,
I'm hoping my dad can weigh in on this decision.
Hint, hint.)
Kiehl's Ultra Facial Oil-Free Set.
To combat the major hormonal acne that pregnancy has bestowed upon me.
I've been hoarding the free samples that the Kiehl's lady at Woodfield Mall gives me.
(Hey, don't judge. The whole system is a little pricey sans a full-time J-O-B!)
1. Cleanser
{HERE}
My face feels SO CLEAN after washing with this.
A new stethoscope.
We're talking a top-notch cardiac stethoscope. All the better to hear your heart and lungs with, my pretty!
This may actually fit under the category: "graduation" gifts.
But let's not get greedy. Times are tough.
I am, however, digging this chocolate and copper baby.
{HERE}
Or classic black.
Note: No one will actually want to purchase this for me,
because it is capital B Boring.
I'm guessing this may be saved for a "gift" to myself with my first NP paycheck.
Or, finally, just plain, old, boring gift cards...because:
1.) I realize these gifts are muy expensivo and that money doesn't grow on trees.
2.) We're moving into an actual house!
Cortney Novogratz - whom I have blogged about {HERE} - once told a story about how she occupies her children while shopping at a flea market.
She simply tells them to "find a picture of a pretty lady" which not only spawns a treasure hunt & makes family memories, but also becomes a beautiful art display.
Namely, she collects them into a synchronous collage, like this:
I think this idea is brilliant!
Everyone knows that I love maps (so I'd be all over that scheme)
but don't these various landscapes look amazing as well?
Doesn't this make you want to start a cohesive collection, too?
~images via department of the interior & pinterest~
I apologize ahead of time for the rudeness of this post.
(And God willing, that you're not on this list.)
1. Everyone on I-290.
2. This short, squatty female resident who's constantly pushing up her Gucci glasses and looks like she's always smelling a fart.
3. This guy (and whoever wrote this most annoying jingle):
(I'm sorry. I just made you sing that out loud and now you want to punch yourself!)
4. Scott Walker. Also known as Governor Asshat.
5. Nurses who let their patients sit in shit/piss.
6. Doctors who wait too long to consult hospice on obviously dying patients.
7. Anyone who likes Michigan State. Or Ohio State, for that matter.
Or thinks that Joe-Pa shouldn't have been canned.
8. Kim K. and Kris Humphries. You are both a disgrace, especially in today's economy. And your ass is seriously beyond ginormous. I don't even understand it.
9. The Einstein's employee who consistently puts sugar in my coffee & gives me the wrong bagel. (I'm looking at you, Cinnamon Raisin w/ plain full fat cream cheese!)
10. Joe Lee, the insane squirrel, who is constantly knocking over my plants and eating my pumpkin.
11. Every single employee within the Rush University College of Nursing administrative office. Could you please not screw up even one thing?!? It will be a miracle if I receive my diploma this decade...with my name spelled correctly.
12. Drug reps. Take your floozy blonde ass & free pens and head back to the Neiman Marcus from which you came.
13. Whoever the hell assigned a medical student to me for my last 2 weeks. Seriously. He is dumber than an ox and I am in no mood to babysit.
That is all....for now.
(Hey, the week is young. And my hormones fluctuating.)
;)
