Kenny ://

This time of year. You know?

I don't know what it is about this time of year but it just stresses me out. I know I'm not the only person in the world who loathes the holiday season starting in, oh, September, but for some reason, I not only am mildly annoyed by the Christmas weeks, but I really get kind of road-ragey.

I think it comes down to this: I read an article by someone this morning who said it best, "A holiday season like Christmas should primarily leave us rested and revived, and should fill us with positive energy and happiness." The problem is that it doesn't do that at all. In fact, it's quite the opposite. There are so many expectations that I put on myself, so many obligations, and if anything happens to throw any of those well-crafted plans off kilter, I get even more and more stressed out.

This year is no different but at least I don't have to go to twice as many places and hang out with twice as many people as I have in the past few years. That driving, that being "on," that idle chit chat and talking about what I have planned for the next few years . . . it's a pain in my can, frankly. 

I love my family, don't get me wrong, but I don't love forced get togethers. I prefer to see them frequently. And with less food involved. As I've written, I'm trying to get back down to fighting weight before the cycling and triathlon season starts proper and Christmas dinner has me dead in its sights. That isn't a problem for someone with moderately strong will power, of course. 

Wish I had that.

In other news - go here to support me in the triathlon and in the fight against childhood cancer. I'm raising money for St. Jude Children's Research Hospital by getting people to sponsor me for the triathlon I'm doing in April in Miami. Tell your friends, too. 

Nature vs. Nurture and inventions

I've had this conversation with a small, very distinguished set of friends over the past few days. Nurture vs. Nature. I was, read was again. a staunch believer in nurture. In other words, I am who I am because of the fact that the people who raised me and the place in which I was raised played a significant part in who I am today.

To give you an idea, I was raised catholic in a southern city by pseudo-liberals turned conservative in the 70's and 80's. Don't try to tell me I love the A-Team and the Dukes of Hazzard because I'm an aquarius, hippies.

I believe we're a result of our environment. Case in point, if I grew up in Seattle, would I really know what a moonpie was and have an almost tribal appreciation of them? No way. Ask a native Washingtonian "What's a moonpie?" and they'll probably answer, "cowshit on the moon?"

Nurture. I had a great, laid back dad, and I'm laid back. (dad's still around, I just don't talk to him). I don't think that's genetic because Mom is rat-shat crazy. Not laid back at all. Neither are my bro or sis. Not genetic.

Now the nature - how is it astrologers can pigeon-hole me into a box as an aquarius? There must be something in my nature about that but I don't believe there are only 12 kinds of people in the world.

In other news, I'm working on an invention that counter-acts that "It's on the tip of my tongue" feeling you get. Won't it be nice when you're thinking of something you can't quite remember or articulate ala "I know I know it, I just can't think of it . . ." or ". . . Its' on the tip of my tongue. . . " to just be there, not on the tip of your tongue but actually being spoken? Well, Tricia, my business partner, and I are working on that. Don't bogart it, haters.

In other news, don't you just fecking hate it when you buy a new bike and it rains for 2 weeks so you don't get to ride it? I didn't buy a new bike, but I hate that feeling.

I know it doesn't look like it

I know it doesn't look like it but the facial hair is growing; it hasn't hit a plateau just yet.  The best part is that it's so long that it's almost soft by now. Another best part is that one of my best friends in the world is going to shape it into an award winning stache before the stache contest.  She's an arteest and a beaut.  I'm hoping my mustache will be, too. I've kind of got my mind set on either a Lemmy from Motorhead or a mustache that looks like the stripe on Charlie Brown's shirt.  I don't want to give too much away to my competition, though, so that's all I'll say about that.  Here's your Sunday update (soundtrack for this picture by fugazi):

So it's Sunday night, my exams are done and this is day 3 that I haven't even thought about schoolwork or books or anything that has to do with preparing for a class. How'd I spend it?  So happy you asked. Miserably with demanding wimmenz.  As a southern bumper sticker once said, Nuff Said.

Sunday night haiku:

Vacation, a myth
Blackberry follows you with
Red blinking flasher

Remember to do this

Always good advice to follow.

Traffic

Traffic. It's something that really, REALLY gets on my last damn nerve. I don't know of anything that cuts my fuse shorter than uninvited traffic. I suppose I could treat the roads as if they're the lake I grew up swimming and avoid the cold spots, stay towards the warms spots and swim happily where I know it's comfortable and friendly and inviting.

But it's not an ideal world and there are snakes in the lake. I'm not stupid, and I'm not a glutton, but sometimes there's just uninvited traffic in your life. You can't avoid it. You have to get places don't you? It's a pain in the crack and can be kind of stressful. But really, does some other asshole's actions in traffic really have an affect on me or my day? In the big scheme of things, no.

So what's with the weird traffic?

Remember OJ?

Remember the OJ thing where he [allegedly] murdered his ex and her friend? You know, the thing where he'd [allegedly] show up at Nicole's house, [allegedly] threaten her, [allegedly] stalk her, and try to seem like a great guy to everyone in his inner circle?

I believe the facts of the case are he is accused of stalking Nicole, accused of stalking her friends and being just a general dick to her friends and family, and then we all know what he did after that.

There are things you should just let go, like someone making fun of some stupid shit you've done, or someone saying to another, unrelated party, that you're a jerk or an ass or whatever applies.

Like, what if OJ actually followed someone into a grocery store and threaten them in front of say, oh, I don't know, 5 confirmed witnesses? He probably just hasn't thought out his shit very much, has he? I mean, surely he'd never have been captured on some sort of video doing what he'd probably deny ever doing should his wife somehow find out what he's done, right? He's not that stupid is he?

You'd think a rational, mature adult would know that's how you're supposed to act.

You'd think . . .

You don't know me!

That's exactly what I wanted to say to the guy next to me in the bathroom today who has no social graces. I have to assume he's got no social graces because he had no qualms about letting 4 loud ones rip. Right there in front of God and everyone. And he didn't even say "oops," or "excuse me," or "take that, jerky."

Seriously, I just want to blame Memphis for all of this.