I don't like Mondays...
... though fortunately for the assembled masses, I'm not even close to wanting to complete that lyric snippet ("I wanna shoooo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oot the whole day down").
ANYhoodle... I got a speeding ticket this morning. It's been more than 5 years, so I could take defensive driving but right now I've got a case of the cranky pants about it anyway. Sure, I was going faster than the posted speed, but the posted speed is STUPID! Why would someone think it's a good idea to have a 35MPH speed limit on the access road of I35? *gnashes teeth* Are you kidding me? Bastids.
I have never been The Sort To Cry Over A Ticket. Apparently this morning that changed, though it's probably temporary. I think it was just the accumulated stress of the last 6 months leaking out my eyes. It was a slow build. I didn't sob. As he walked away with my license, I just couldn't stop my eyes from brimming or overflowing. So I didn't. I just went with it because I knew Something Else Was At Play. No need to hold it in.
I am a little proud that I didn't play the cancer card. Not sure this cop would have gone for it, and why waste one's breath on something that Isn't Quite True (even if the ticket is totally unjust for the aforementioned unreasonableness of speed limits). Yeah, I had cancer and am still recovering. That's not why I was speeding, but hellooooooo! I had FREAKING CANCER! At 40! Throw me a bone here! Feh.
I might try my hand at court, because I was not driving unsafely, and there were no other cars around. Roads were not slippery/wet. I was trying to build up some speed because the on-ramps are about --> _________ <-- that long. I was not a danger to anyone, nor to myself. We shall see. I may decide that this windmill is fine all on its own and I do not, in fact, need to go a-tilting. But my Aquarian self rails because 1) it's A Cause; and 2) it was Unjust. (Yeah, I know... I'm a Gryffindor in a Slytherin suit. Shaddup!)
Beyond that, there were adventures this weekend in the form of a celebration for a girlie I lubs a lot. There was a DJ who was amazing beyond the telling of it, adult beverages of much potency (totally cluegirl's fault for telling me about them in the first place!), and Scary Plastic People who turned me increasingly more feral as they warily eyed us. So much so, in fact, that I prayed very hard for Spontaneous Facial Piercings to appear to further my need to scare these Trying Too Hard To Be Normal folk. Sadly, I gained neither labrette or eyebrow piercing to aid me.
Wanted to explain to a couple folks that I have, in fact, freaked people out by Simply Being Me long before the silicone bits on their respective chests had been installed; their palpable discomfort only eggs me on.
As I told bookwench, in a paraphrase from Into the Woods, "I am a good person; I am not always a nice person." She heartily approved. ♥
It struck me (and not in a bad or painful way) that we really are different... and this is A Good ThingTM. Surveying the cougar-laden crowd, I realized that I am spoiled. My people (i.e., you all) are expressive, animated creatures. I had forgotten that most mortals simply... aren't (though excessive Botox most certainly was a factor). I didn't get it until I had the stark comparison before me. It's a nice reminder.
But the aforementioned DJ was amazing. He was mixing live, and his music choices and juxtapositions? Truly inspired. I hope he plays elsewhere during the week, 'cuz he is right up meatpie's alley... but if we were there together in that crowd, I cannot guarantee that my inner derby girl would not surface; elbows may be thrown. (Should that come to pass, I can, however, guarantee that I could make it look like an accident.)
And as I've got a meeting from 1:00 - 5:00pm, I should return to Getting Things Done. Yesh.
ANYhoodle... I got a speeding ticket this morning. It's been more than 5 years, so I could take defensive driving but right now I've got a case of the cranky pants about it anyway. Sure, I was going faster than the posted speed, but the posted speed is STUPID! Why would someone think it's a good idea to have a 35MPH speed limit on the access road of I35? *gnashes teeth* Are you kidding me? Bastids.
I have never been The Sort To Cry Over A Ticket. Apparently this morning that changed, though it's probably temporary. I think it was just the accumulated stress of the last 6 months leaking out my eyes. It was a slow build. I didn't sob. As he walked away with my license, I just couldn't stop my eyes from brimming or overflowing. So I didn't. I just went with it because I knew Something Else Was At Play. No need to hold it in.
I am a little proud that I didn't play the cancer card. Not sure this cop would have gone for it, and why waste one's breath on something that Isn't Quite True (even if the ticket is totally unjust for the aforementioned unreasonableness of speed limits). Yeah, I had cancer and am still recovering. That's not why I was speeding, but hellooooooo! I had FREAKING CANCER! At 40! Throw me a bone here! Feh.
I might try my hand at court, because I was not driving unsafely, and there were no other cars around. Roads were not slippery/wet. I was trying to build up some speed because the on-ramps are about --> _________ <-- that long. I was not a danger to anyone, nor to myself. We shall see. I may decide that this windmill is fine all on its own and I do not, in fact, need to go a-tilting. But my Aquarian self rails because 1) it's A Cause; and 2) it was Unjust. (Yeah, I know... I'm a Gryffindor in a Slytherin suit. Shaddup!)
Beyond that, there were adventures this weekend in the form of a celebration for a girlie I lubs a lot. There was a DJ who was amazing beyond the telling of it, adult beverages of much potency (totally cluegirl's fault for telling me about them in the first place!), and Scary Plastic People who turned me increasingly more feral as they warily eyed us. So much so, in fact, that I prayed very hard for Spontaneous Facial Piercings to appear to further my need to scare these Trying Too Hard To Be Normal folk. Sadly, I gained neither labrette or eyebrow piercing to aid me.
Wanted to explain to a couple folks that I have, in fact, freaked people out by Simply Being Me long before the silicone bits on their respective chests had been installed; their palpable discomfort only eggs me on.
As I told bookwench, in a paraphrase from Into the Woods, "I am a good person; I am not always a nice person." She heartily approved. ♥
It struck me (and not in a bad or painful way) that we really are different... and this is A Good ThingTM. Surveying the cougar-laden crowd, I realized that I am spoiled. My people (i.e., you all) are expressive, animated creatures. I had forgotten that most mortals simply... aren't (though excessive Botox most certainly was a factor). I didn't get it until I had the stark comparison before me. It's a nice reminder.
But the aforementioned DJ was amazing. He was mixing live, and his music choices and juxtapositions? Truly inspired. I hope he plays elsewhere during the week, 'cuz he is right up meatpie's alley... but if we were there together in that crowd, I cannot guarantee that my inner derby girl would not surface; elbows may be thrown. (Should that come to pass, I can, however, guarantee that I could make it look like an accident.)
And as I've got a meeting from 1:00 - 5:00pm, I should return to Getting Things Done. Yesh.