yeah right

Sometimes life is rough. Sometimes you never stop to think about all the good things that come your way until a string of bad luck makes you wonder. I would say that most people sooner or later have a bad day. Sometimes it feels like a page out of a book or a scene from a movie.

I was late for work. When I came to a halt at the red light I knew that something was wrong. My car had sputtered and died and I was speechless. Turning the key didn't do much, and my car's engine struggled to turn. I tried this five or six more times and after a horrible noise my car came back to life. I wanted to make it to work on time. Today was like every other day. Coming to another stop I looked down at the oil pressure gauge to see it fall to nothing. My car dies again and to make matters worse there are 5 cars honking their horns impatiently behind me. Turning the key didn't help, my car struggled to turn on and it seemed like an endless row of cars had bypassed me angrily. As I sat there I almost laughed to myself, things like this happened to everyone. A guy pulled over and helped me push my car into the parking lot in front of my job and I was relieved to be a least out of the busy intersection.

I knew this was going to happen. Bad things seem to creep up when you're in a hurry. I should have done something. During the past few weeks I've noticed the lack of fuel efficiency and even short trips to school and back would eat a serious chunk of gas. On top of that my car was so sluggish and noisy that it made me nervous to go anywhere. I can't blame the cold weather everything something goes wrong, but I think it had an effect on it. Today was like any other, I had to get to work on time.

While I sat there in the parking lot trying to start my car, one of the guys that helped push me out of the road asked to see what was going on with my crappy car. We popped the hood, and he tried to start the car. After a few tries an loud bang shot out with a large black cloud from the tailpipe. This, on top of everything else, was the least of my worries.

Being late to work I slipped into the backroom trying not to draw attention to myself. I had a valid excuse if anyone bothered to care. I geared up for another endless shift, and as I was about to begin I heard my name over the intercom. Something was up. I never like talking to my bosses, and frankly I didn't think they cared much about what I did at work so long as the job got done. I was used to being assigned useless tasks, and this was probably another chance for my boss to explain important employees principles. As I entered the office I realized it was a trap.

Nothing says I love you like "we're laying you off."

?

i hate myspace.com

i do.

shut up

College level algebra teaches you many things. Mathematics, being a cumulative type of subject, requires that you remember everything that you learned from kindergarten up until the last time you attempted to pass another math class. Algebra is the one thing that state educators believe will help you start a business or earn your degree. Something about it defines a person, and being able to say you passed algebra to get your degree in communication says a lot. None of your teachers however will ever tell you the truth about algebra: it's useless. useless until you procreate and are forced to do your teenagers homework late Sunday night.

So why am I forced to listen to captain-know-it-all ask question after inane question? Every class has one of these people. They ask so many questions to the point where it is useless for the teacher to even say anything. I can tell that my professor is getting aggravated about it. I think that the entire class despises the interruptions.

I'll just sit back and watch the show begin. . .

stop sign #2

The second you arrive at Traffic School, you know you're in for a long night. Most of the chairs or rows in the back are overflowing with people that have the look of disgust on their faces. Eye contact of any kind is not permitted. My best bet is a seat located near the exit for a clean get away once the lesson is over. Getting comfortable doesn't help much, because these classes are designed to either scare you or make you sick, so that you never go ten over the limit or forget to use your blinker ever again.

This is what happens: Officer so and so swaggers through the door and announces that the regular officer that usually teaches the class is out for the evening with what ever problem he can think of. And usually the officer opens the night with some questions if any. This is where the trouble begins. From the start of class it is evident that this situation has put too many people that cannot coexist with each other in the same room. For the convenience of someone who has never been to traffic school I'll break it down:

The Obnoxious I know everything I shouldn't be here type. These people are perfect drivers and should never have been pulled over in the first place, based soley on the fact that they try to answer ever question correctly. More than once they try to justify their moving infraction and try to get out of the two to three hour class. These people are usually cell phone gabbers and cutter offers on the freeway who feel that their rights have been violated.

The Quiet, let's get this over with type. The everyday person who was probably in a hurry to get somewhere, lost track of how fast they were going, or how many stop signs they've ignored. While in traffic school they show little if any effort in discussion because they just want to get it over with. Most normal people fall into this category including myself.

The Mad woman. This woman feels like she never did anything wrong in the first place and that every police officer is a liar and a betrayer to American society. This frazzled woman would probably rather spend the night screaming at her kids than take traffic school. Most often she is patiently asked to calm down or shut her mouth during the course of class.

This person should not be driving a motorized vehicle person. Usually an old grandmother, this person constantly answers questions wrong, and really wrong at that. For example, one time during class this old woman tried to explain to the rest of the class how a four way stop worked in her mind. Apparently each car was supposed to go one at a time in opposite order. I remeber looking around the class with the same puzzled expression as everyone else. The officer had to stop her from embarrassing herself any further. This person likes to smile at everyone in the room as if we are her adopted grandchildren, while unfortunately never paying attention to what is being taught.

The rest of the class is mad up of combinations of these elements. As class goes on it becomes apparent that the police officer teaching the class is either trying to scare you with gruesome statistics or grossing you out with slides of fatal traffic accidents. By the time you start to leave, you either want to throw up or never drive again. Since this last time was my third time in traffic school, none of this phased me and I was left to let my mind wander. My lack of concentration was cut short from the woman who had just sat down behind me. It started slowly, but grew. She was breathing so loud. It was as if someone had cut her nose off and sentenced her to breathe like a horse. I could no longer hear what the officer was saying through the wheezing and sniffing that I actually plugged my ears. The thought of sitting through another three hours of traffic school was nothing compared to the torture of heavy breathing lady.

Needless to say I will never. Ever. Speed again.

small thought #3

By the time you get enough paper towel from the automatic paper towel dispenser in a public restroom, not only will your hands be dry enough from waving them in front of that stupid little red sensor, but you will also look like a complete idiot in the process. The same thing goes when you try to wash your hands only to hold them in the sink basin with nothing happening. I think I figured out why those things were invented. Check for secret cameras, because someone is watching you wave like an idiot in front of those things.

stop sign

Some things weren't meant to be fun. Being pulled over in front of everyone in a crowded neighborhood is one of those things. Police officers around here really have nothing better to do, because the crime rate is comparably lower than the national average. Justifying speeding in a residential area is traffic suicide, especially when your speedometer doesn't work. So I'm used to hearing the phrase "I was going to give you a warning, but since you were going 15 mph over the limit there is little I can do." then the officer goes to his car for twenty minutes to fill out papers. While he's in the car any number of friends, work associates, and family members that have never dropped by inevitably will. The fun doesn't stop there. In order to preserve a clean driving record you must be subjected to what is known as traffic school...

"it might not be worth it" I thought, when I pulled into the police station. The directions were hard to read and I wasn't sure what I was up against. When I try to explain myself to the woman behind the desk, she looks at me and asks if I had received the other paper from the other courthouse in another building on the the other side of town. Nope guess not.

I always get caught speeding when I'm pissed at something. In this case, the Department of Motor Vehicles. They had messed up the name on the title to my truck and I was gearing up for battle when I saw flashing lights in my rearview. I didn't know where to pull over so I stopped in front of the exit to the DMV. No one could get out of the parking lot. Cars began to pile up as the officer went through the usual motions. I didn't care. It was not the best day ever.

at the court house I had a hard time finding a place to park. When I tried to go through the metal detector at the door, the officer told me I had to take my cell phone back to my car because it was capable of taking pictures of the holiest of holies in that particular building. Went back, took the elevator up and saw a room of miserable people. After waiting and waiting I was ushered into a room where this lady was typing furiously on a computer. After looking me up and down a few times she told me I was able to purchase the piece of paper that granted me the right to go back to the police station and pay even more money to the state. And I always thought that traffic school was the easier alternative.

to be continued...

soundtrack

The following is a list of songs that will be included in the soundtrack to the movie of my life:

1. "Don't stop Believing" by Journey
2. "Pictures of You" by the Cure
3. "Tiny Dancer" by Elton John
4. "Movin' Out, (Anthony's Song)" by Billy Joel
5. "Just What I Needed" by the Cars
6. "Don't look Back in Anger" by Oasis
7. "Just" by Radiohead
8. "Get Back" by The Beatles
9. "Mr. Blue Sky" by ELO
10. "Bloody Well Right" by Supertramp

These are a few of the songs that will be included. I wanted an older rock sound for this film because it's my life and I can make the movie how ever the freak I want to.

Go out and listen to them.

this just in

Sometimes I think that people don't realize how stupid they look on television. Everything you see that reporter on location at the scene of an accident or a sporting event, there is always that dufus in the background flashing gang signs or making a strange face. Some people believe that when you turn a video camera on it makes someone a different ugly person. I don't know why.

I think that the most blatant misuse of televised stupidity comes from talk shows and The Price is Right. I don't know if comparing Jerry Springer to Bob Barker is even possible, but the people they deal with would qualify them as referees of a different drum. If winning a car means you can run around a sound stage screaming and waving your arms, be my guest. If your man is sleeping with other men to get money for drugs, you can hit him with a chair. Its ok. Television lets you do this. There is an overwhelming desire to see this type of behavior on television. The Nielson ratings prove this. I don't condone this behavior, but it's fun to watch.

the next time I'm on TV I'm going to lift up my shirt and make ugly faces. Because I can.