I ran across a letter I wrote a few years back and realized, “I was a punk!” I’m not sure what was wrong with me. I always talk about how I was once a jerk, but I can’t remember clear details, until I read something like that. Thank God that He has delivered me from all that jazz. To those of you that I was jerk to, I’m sorry. I was an insensitive (not that sensitivity is my middle name now) immature brat. I apologize to all of you who were mown down by my barbed words. I used to really enjoy hurting people.
I went to Austin yesterday. I saw Scott, Pedro and my uncle. All separately, all within a few hours. It was a whirlwind tour. As I drove down and back, my CD player kept skipping. This caused severe grief because the CD’s I played were not scratched in the slightest. I think that my stereo is finally giving up on me. I have had it for a number of years, so I guess I appreciate its long career. “Here’s to you, Mr. JVC. Jumpin’ Joe has died and gone away. Hey, hey, hey.”
Do you know what bugs me? (I know, that’s a RIDICULOUSLY long list, and it is nearly impossible to hit the answer on the head on the first try) When you order a drink at a fast food restaurant, and they push in the little drink markers on the lid. I HATE THAT! Leave mine alone, please! I understand if there are 6 drinks on one order, but you are filling up my Dr Pepper and handing it to me! Where can the confusion occur? Am I going to suddenly forget that I ordered a Dr Pepper? I don’t think so! I think it really bothers me, not because it’s unnecessary, but because it changes the symmetry and the undamaged state that a brand new lid look. It just looks bad. I physically cringe when they do it at Chick-Fil-A. My entire body tenses, and I wince. (I really like the idea of the wince. I feel like it’s the epitome of the physical expression of an emotion) I want to ask them not to do it, but by the time I think to ask, “pop!” There goes the depression. In the lid and in my heart. Is there anyone else who feels like this, or am I (like so many have earlier claimed) just crazy?
To rewrite the Matchbox 20 song, “I’m not crazy, I’m just a little over critical and overly analytical. I know, sometimes you can’t tell. But stay a while and maybe then you’ll see, a little more stable side of me.” I promise there is a less neurotic side of me. Well, it happens in months ending in ‘y’ and on a day that’s divisible by 13. And if the week is a prime numbered week. (Look it up, you’ll see how rare that is) If you note, 13 and the four months that end in ‘y’ are all prime numbers. I do love those prime numbers. They are the only non-even numbers that I tolerate.
Someone asked me how I get the titles to my blogs. Song lyrics. Google the title in quotation marks. It’ll pop it right up.
