Dear Redneck Dude with the bad teeth and worse hair:
Perhaps it made you FEEL manly to yell at me as I rode my bicycle (outside the white line, I might add). Maybe you impressed your buddy by telling me to get off the road.
Really you just showed your ignorance.
You see, in the state of Georgia (and many others that you've probably never heard of), a bicycle is a vehicle. We have the same rights, rules, and responsibilities as you and your buddy in the '93 Corolla. Or maybe it was a Hyundai. Whatever.
I know there are cyclists out there who are obnoxious and hog the road. According to the law, that is their right. My friends and I, however, ALWAYS ride single file when there is a car behind us. Besides that, there was NOTHING coming. You could have passed easily. Oh yeah, I forgot, you didn't need to pass at all. You screamed at us as you TURNED LEFT.
Jerk.
You should treat a bicycle just like you would a car driven by your grandmother. In my case, it might be your grandmother on sleeping pills.
If there's room to pass, do so, and use as much of the OTHER lane as you can. If there isn't room to pass, you should WAIT BEHIND THE BICYCLE until the car coming from the other direction has passed, and THEN you pass.
It isn't your road, a**hole. It's OUR road. If you don't want to see bicycles on the road, then I have a great idea for you.
Stay home.
Drink your PBR and watch NASCAR and scratch yourself and pass gas and wonder why your sister has 5 children, none of whom look alike or share the same last name.
But leave me and my friends to enjoy our bike ride in peace.
Flipping you the bird virtually,
Bragger
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Friday, March 6, 2009
Parenting is Nothing But Blind Luck.....
That's an expression I've used many times over the years.
Parenting is nothing but blind luck.
That should be fair warning for those of you who gnash your teeth and lose sleep over making the right decisions regarding your children's upbringing.
It doesn't matter.
I'm convinced they will turn out the way they will turn out.
I had a good friend in high school who was a VERY good girl. As in G-O-O-D. Could do no wrong. She didn't DARE do any wrong, because her father was the superintendent of schools. In our small town, that gave her no wiggle room to screw up.
When we were seniors in high school, we often studied together for our trig class. She had to study a little harder than I did, but she also cared a little more about her grades than I did. It wasn't that I didn't care.....but I didn't have to work very hard to get grades in the high 90's.
One semester we found out only about an hour before our trig final that our teacher was going to let us use our notes on the exam. My friend, whom I'll call Shelley, looked at me with something akin to panic and said, "I left my notebook at home!"
"Get in the car," I said, "we'll go get it."
"My daddy will kill me if I skip school!"
"Your daddy is going to kill you if you fail that trig final, too."
She was convinced, and we jumped in my car to go get her notebook.
She was a good girl, but she wasn't obnoxious about it. She was a cheerleader and dated one of the football stars on our mediocre team. In the 10th grade (during math class, no less), she picked out her wedding date, which was after her graduation from college.
She missed it by a week. And they're still married.
She was a journalism major, and after graduation she and her new husband moved to a town in South Georgia, where there was one television station. She got a job there, of course. She immediately decided that instead of the 5 children she had planned on, she would have none, wanting a career in television.
Then along came child #1. (I never got the chance to say "I told you so." When I asked her about birth control, she said, "I'm gonna let him worry about that." Hmph.)
A couple of years later along came child #2, they moved to the Atlanta area, and she was out of television forever. She chose to be a stay-at-home mom, a role I admire greatly, and she still looks exactly like she did when we graduated from high school. I try not to hate her for that.
If there's anything I get satisfaction from, it's the fact that I'm the only person in our graduating class who is younger than she is. We both skipped a grade, so we were the babies of the class. Her birthday is in March; mine is in April.
I'm not being ugly when I say how perfect she and her husband are. They look perfect together, they have had perfect career moves, they are just precious.
Their eldest child (a boy), however, was not so precious, at least in his formative years.
He came from parents who didn't smoke or drink, weren't the partying kind, followed the rules, and were generally good citizens.
He was a hellion, at least for a while.
In high school he was arrested for smashing mailboxes while riding in (or driving) a stolen car. He threw a wild party while his parents were out of town, and the police may or may not have been called. But the worst was when it came time for college.
Shelley wailed to me, "The worst thing of all was that his grades weren't good enough to get into Georgia. He had to go to Auburnnnnnnnnnnn!"
Their son has since gotten his act together, has a masters degree and a new bride and a solid career, and looks just like his father.
Their daughter has had a full ride on a cheerleading scholarship and looks just like her mama.
I wasn't such a good girl. If there was a rule, I thought it was meant to be broken. Half the senior class skipped school on MY birthday to go to a local swimming spot, and I felt compelled to jump off the bridge into the river below. I was suspended in the 10th grade for leaving school without permission. When I was on hospital/homebound my senior year because I had mono, the homebound teacher said when she went to get assignments from two of my teachers, they said I didn't come to their classes anymore. (I didn't get the failing grades I deserved.) A large group of us regularly went to bars in the nearby college town. I smoked in the bathroom, regardless of the fact that we had a legal smoking area outside, because we weren't supposed to. Nonetheless, I graduated 8th in my class. It could have been higher if I had cared just a little more.
And my child was as close to perfect as you can imagine. She didn't drink until she was 21, because it was against the law. Even after she was in the Navy, she didn't drink because she WASN'T SUPPOSED TO. Now she's nearing 25, and she still doesn't drink a whole lot. She thinks smoking is disgusting, has never tried drugs, and as far as I know still hadn't had s-e-x when she left for the Navy. I'm not sure about now, but since she's talking about getting married, I can only assume..... Never mind, I can't go there. And she's at the age where I can't ask.
She's a rule-follower. Perfect for her chosen career. She has bought her own house, a new car, and a dog. At her age I had a college degree, but I also had HER, I was married to her father (shudder), and we didn't know where groceries were going to come from for the week. I wouldn't change a thing if it meant not having her, but I wasn't as smart as I thought I was. I also wasn't as grown as I thought I was.
I'll say it again: Parenting is nothing but blind luck.
Parenting is nothing but blind luck.
That should be fair warning for those of you who gnash your teeth and lose sleep over making the right decisions regarding your children's upbringing.
It doesn't matter.
I'm convinced they will turn out the way they will turn out.
I had a good friend in high school who was a VERY good girl. As in G-O-O-D. Could do no wrong. She didn't DARE do any wrong, because her father was the superintendent of schools. In our small town, that gave her no wiggle room to screw up.
When we were seniors in high school, we often studied together for our trig class. She had to study a little harder than I did, but she also cared a little more about her grades than I did. It wasn't that I didn't care.....but I didn't have to work very hard to get grades in the high 90's.
One semester we found out only about an hour before our trig final that our teacher was going to let us use our notes on the exam. My friend, whom I'll call Shelley, looked at me with something akin to panic and said, "I left my notebook at home!"
"Get in the car," I said, "we'll go get it."
"My daddy will kill me if I skip school!"
"Your daddy is going to kill you if you fail that trig final, too."
She was convinced, and we jumped in my car to go get her notebook.
She was a good girl, but she wasn't obnoxious about it. She was a cheerleader and dated one of the football stars on our mediocre team. In the 10th grade (during math class, no less), she picked out her wedding date, which was after her graduation from college.
She missed it by a week. And they're still married.
She was a journalism major, and after graduation she and her new husband moved to a town in South Georgia, where there was one television station. She got a job there, of course. She immediately decided that instead of the 5 children she had planned on, she would have none, wanting a career in television.
Then along came child #1. (I never got the chance to say "I told you so." When I asked her about birth control, she said, "I'm gonna let him worry about that." Hmph.)
A couple of years later along came child #2, they moved to the Atlanta area, and she was out of television forever. She chose to be a stay-at-home mom, a role I admire greatly, and she still looks exactly like she did when we graduated from high school. I try not to hate her for that.
If there's anything I get satisfaction from, it's the fact that I'm the only person in our graduating class who is younger than she is. We both skipped a grade, so we were the babies of the class. Her birthday is in March; mine is in April.
I'm not being ugly when I say how perfect she and her husband are. They look perfect together, they have had perfect career moves, they are just precious.
Their eldest child (a boy), however, was not so precious, at least in his formative years.
He came from parents who didn't smoke or drink, weren't the partying kind, followed the rules, and were generally good citizens.
He was a hellion, at least for a while.
In high school he was arrested for smashing mailboxes while riding in (or driving) a stolen car. He threw a wild party while his parents were out of town, and the police may or may not have been called. But the worst was when it came time for college.
Shelley wailed to me, "The worst thing of all was that his grades weren't good enough to get into Georgia. He had to go to Auburnnnnnnnnnnn!"
Their son has since gotten his act together, has a masters degree and a new bride and a solid career, and looks just like his father.
Their daughter has had a full ride on a cheerleading scholarship and looks just like her mama.
I wasn't such a good girl. If there was a rule, I thought it was meant to be broken. Half the senior class skipped school on MY birthday to go to a local swimming spot, and I felt compelled to jump off the bridge into the river below. I was suspended in the 10th grade for leaving school without permission. When I was on hospital/homebound my senior year because I had mono, the homebound teacher said when she went to get assignments from two of my teachers, they said I didn't come to their classes anymore. (I didn't get the failing grades I deserved.) A large group of us regularly went to bars in the nearby college town. I smoked in the bathroom, regardless of the fact that we had a legal smoking area outside, because we weren't supposed to. Nonetheless, I graduated 8th in my class. It could have been higher if I had cared just a little more.
And my child was as close to perfect as you can imagine. She didn't drink until she was 21, because it was against the law. Even after she was in the Navy, she didn't drink because she WASN'T SUPPOSED TO. Now she's nearing 25, and she still doesn't drink a whole lot. She thinks smoking is disgusting, has never tried drugs, and as far as I know still hadn't had s-e-x when she left for the Navy. I'm not sure about now, but since she's talking about getting married, I can only assume..... Never mind, I can't go there. And she's at the age where I can't ask.
She's a rule-follower. Perfect for her chosen career. She has bought her own house, a new car, and a dog. At her age I had a college degree, but I also had HER, I was married to her father (shudder), and we didn't know where groceries were going to come from for the week. I wouldn't change a thing if it meant not having her, but I wasn't as smart as I thought I was. I also wasn't as grown as I thought I was.
I'll say it again: Parenting is nothing but blind luck.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
My First Boyfriend....
My first boyfriend's name in the 3rd and 4th grade was Lucky Beach. I'm not making that up.
I shared him with my best friend at that time, a girl named Joy. It actually worked out pretty nicely. We took turns sitting next to him on the high bar on the playground. We didn't swing from it or do chin-ups or anything it was designed for. We just sat there. Whoever's turn it wasn't to sit up there with him had to stand on the ground and hold his jacket. Eventually we decided it was childish to share a boyfriend and made him choose one of us.
Bad move.
Joy was pretty. And skinny.
I remember going to an away basketball game with him and his..... parents? Somebody. That part is fuzzy. When we were that age, going to an "away" basketball game.....or anything else....was a big deal. I'm surprised my mother let me go, because if you went somewhere with someone's parents, it was expected that your parents would reciprocate at some point. And Mama didn't believe in hauling anybody's kids anywhere. Including her own.
She rarely let me spend the night with friends, because that meant we were expected to let them come spend the night with me at some point in the future, usually the next Friday night. She needn't have worried.....most of the time the friends didn't want to come back again. Mama didn't believe in putting on her "company" manners just because we had company.
Back to Lucky Beach. I'm sure he had a "real" name, but I've forgotten what it was. He moved away at some point, although somewhere around 7th grade a friend and I ran into him when the fair was in town. That was the first time in my life I rode something that went upside down. I guess I didn't want him to think I was a wimp. I don't know where he wound up.
I did a Google search for him a while back.
You know what you get when you do a search for Lucky Beach?
You get every resort in the free world, some of them clothing-optional.
If anyone out there runs into Lucky Beach, tell him I said hello.
I shared him with my best friend at that time, a girl named Joy. It actually worked out pretty nicely. We took turns sitting next to him on the high bar on the playground. We didn't swing from it or do chin-ups or anything it was designed for. We just sat there. Whoever's turn it wasn't to sit up there with him had to stand on the ground and hold his jacket. Eventually we decided it was childish to share a boyfriend and made him choose one of us.
Bad move.
Joy was pretty. And skinny.
I remember going to an away basketball game with him and his..... parents? Somebody. That part is fuzzy. When we were that age, going to an "away" basketball game.....or anything else....was a big deal. I'm surprised my mother let me go, because if you went somewhere with someone's parents, it was expected that your parents would reciprocate at some point. And Mama didn't believe in hauling anybody's kids anywhere. Including her own.
She rarely let me spend the night with friends, because that meant we were expected to let them come spend the night with me at some point in the future, usually the next Friday night. She needn't have worried.....most of the time the friends didn't want to come back again. Mama didn't believe in putting on her "company" manners just because we had company.
Back to Lucky Beach. I'm sure he had a "real" name, but I've forgotten what it was. He moved away at some point, although somewhere around 7th grade a friend and I ran into him when the fair was in town. That was the first time in my life I rode something that went upside down. I guess I didn't want him to think I was a wimp. I don't know where he wound up.
I did a Google search for him a while back.
You know what you get when you do a search for Lucky Beach?
You get every resort in the free world, some of them clothing-optional.
If anyone out there runs into Lucky Beach, tell him I said hello.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Happy Birthday, Weesa........
Today was my step-daughter's birthday. And not just any birthday. The big 4-0.
You may think I'm not old enough to have a 40-year-old daughter. I'm not. I'm only 8 years older than my step-daughter. I just married a much older man.
I was 5 when Hubby graduated from high school.
We didn't date then.
Weesa is single, blond, and college educated, and she owns her own house and rides a Harley. I keep hoping she'll find someone who will make her as happy as her daddy has made me. She hasn't had much luck in the men department. Two failed marriages, and she says she's through with being married. She dated a guy for TEN YEARS, and then last summer she dumped him on his birthday. In Panama City. He needed dumping. But he took her out to lunch today for her birthday. Apparently he's a much better ex than he was a boyfriend.
Wouldn't life be a lot simpler if we didn't have to worry about relationships?
You may think I'm not old enough to have a 40-year-old daughter. I'm not. I'm only 8 years older than my step-daughter. I just married a much older man.
I was 5 when Hubby graduated from high school.
We didn't date then.
Weesa is single, blond, and college educated, and she owns her own house and rides a Harley. I keep hoping she'll find someone who will make her as happy as her daddy has made me. She hasn't had much luck in the men department. Two failed marriages, and she says she's through with being married. She dated a guy for TEN YEARS, and then last summer she dumped him on his birthday. In Panama City. He needed dumping. But he took her out to lunch today for her birthday. Apparently he's a much better ex than he was a boyfriend.
Wouldn't life be a lot simpler if we didn't have to worry about relationships?
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Square Root Day.....
Today was Square Root Day. I'm not making this up. I heard it on CNN Headline News, and Robin Meade simply would not lie. If you don't believe me, just do a Google search for "Square Root Day." Go ahead. I dare you. I'll wait right here.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Square Root Day only happens 9 times every century. The last one we had was February 2, 2004, but I'm positive the damned groundhog grabbed all the attention that day. The next one will be on April 4, 2016.
And I hope with all that is holy (or unholy, as the case may be) that I am not still teaching then.
I told you I should have been a math teacher. I also celebrate Pi Day on March 14th. Or maybe it's just the pie I'm celebrating.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Square Root Day only happens 9 times every century. The last one we had was February 2, 2004, but I'm positive the damned groundhog grabbed all the attention that day. The next one will be on April 4, 2016.
And I hope with all that is holy (or unholy, as the case may be) that I am not still teaching then.
I told you I should have been a math teacher. I also celebrate Pi Day on March 14th. Or maybe it's just the pie I'm celebrating.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Springtime in the South.....
I realize it isn't actually spring yet, at least not according to the calendar.
But it's March, fercryingoutloud.
The good news, and I'm not really trying to be smug, is that temperatures are supposed to return to the 70's by the weekend.
Or maybe I AM trying to be smug.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Winter Wonderland.......
Okay, the snow was pretty. And I'm completely okay with being out of school tomorrow. I won't even whine about it being 23 degrees tonight, because it's supposed to be back up to 70 by Friday. I may even be able to ride the Harley to school later in the week.
But our internet is down. I'm having to blog from the Crackberry.
And that's just some kind of wrong.
I can only lose so many consecutive games of Spider Solitaire. Or Inkball. I need my Pioneer Woman fix. I need to read MamaNeena's latest escapades.I was actually grading assignments online when it went down. I tell students all the time that they need a back-up plan, because not having internet is NOT an excuse for not turning their work in. Blah blah blah.
I want my internet.
Waaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh
But our internet is down. I'm having to blog from the Crackberry.
And that's just some kind of wrong.
I can only lose so many consecutive games of Spider Solitaire. Or Inkball. I need my Pioneer Woman fix. I need to read MamaNeena's latest escapades.I was actually grading assignments online when it went down. I tell students all the time that they need a back-up plan, because not having internet is NOT an excuse for not turning their work in. Blah blah blah.
I want my internet.
Waaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh
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