WATevER

You thought I was lying about posting again before next year, didn't you?

Well YOU. WERE. WRONG.

My dad used to get me to finish whatever was on my plate by saying, "Betcha can't eat that piece," and then moving on to the next as I gobbled it up.

Not sure if that's relevant, but now you know.

But it is relevant, because I feel like writing about food and drink. Particularly drink. Particularly water. I am not a "drinker." I don't mean that as in "I am not an imbiber." I just don't drink much of ANYTHING. (Is imbiber a word?)

Food: I love love love food. I would profess myself as a foodie, except I don't think I qualify. But I would love to be a foodie. Drink: A different story. There are drinks I most surely enjoy. But even those beverages of favor are tough for me to finish. I simply do not desire to consume much liquid.

I order a "short" at Starbucks. They repeatedly ask me if I'd like to pay "x" cents more by ordering a tall, and I have to repeatedly explain that I just won't even finish the amount in a short size. And this is for my favorite toffee nut latte with soy.

Water is tasteless. There are moments I enjoy it--ice cold after a run...with lime in it during a meal of mexican food...after an out-of-town trip (because Memphis tap water is THE BEST EVER and all else pales in comparison)...but for the most part, I just forget. And when I remember, it does not appeal to me. At restaurants, my glass stays 3/4ths full while the waitstaff fills Nick's 3 or 4 times. Eh, it's just water.

At the adoption conference we recently attended, Dr. Karyn Purvis waxed eloquent on the essential act of hydration--especially for children, but for the rest of us as well. Our brains do ugly things when they are dehydrated. Think about your normal day...and your normal irritations...energy levels...ailments such as headaches & sore muscles. Most of these are due (at least in part) to dehydration. Go figure.

Blurg.

Dr. Purvis pointed out that many beverages actually cause dehydration. Coffee. Tea. Juice. Soda. Not only should we be drinking our 8 glasses of water per day, but in addition we should replace the hydration we lose through other beverages. For example: I thoroughly enjoy my 1/3 of a cup of coffee every morning. (I told you--I am not a drinker!) Immediately before or after, I should fill 1/3 of my mug with water and "match" my coffee intake.

I really liked that "chaser" suggestion, but it's the constant drinking of water that is tough for me. To put anything that tastes good into it decreases the health value (artificial sweeteners in Crystal Lite and other powders are dehydrating...citrus slices are bad for your teeth...blahblahblah). So what's this girl to do?

Suggestions are welcome. How do you meet your daily water quota?

In the meantime, I will be doing my own experimentations.

As an aside, my sweetheart of a husband sent me these in the mail, and they arrived today:

Ohhhh, girlie classic literature. Thou art beautifully fantastic.

P.S. If you carry on, I will too.

I don't know if you read NieNie, but I do. The subject line is from the bottom of her post from yesterday.

Carrying on. It's tough in February. Because I hate February.

I tried to sift through my February blog archives to come up with evidence of this. But apparently I've been too distracted these past few years and haven't felt the need to mention my least favorite month.

• 2005 was all "Year of the Boyfriend"...blech/aww. (Although, don't go looking for it--my blog didn't come into existence until May '05.)

• 2006 = "I'm getting married next month so who cares about February" (also known as "Pamper Yourself Month")

• 2007 found me still in the newlywed era, a month before my fantastic 1-year Anniversary Beach Trip. (Incidentally, that was the last 1-week-long vacation that I've been on...)

• 2008...had me a fancy (fairly) new job...traveled to small & obscure southern cities in neighboring states 'till I was blue in the face...training for my fancy new marathon in those fancy new hotel gyms.

• 2009: "Isn't Bikhram Yoga great? By the way, I just ran a marathon and I'm awesome."

Hello, 2010. The real "me" is back from la-la land...here to stay.

It's grey. Cold. Rainy. Muddy. Snowy. Rainy. Grey. and Rainy. It makes me...seasonally blue.

I would say the word that rhymes with "predressed," but I'm too scared--that is a big deal when you're trying to adopt. (Did you know that? I didn't, until recently.) Other countries do NOT like the "D" word and there is major stigma attached to it. So for fear that someone will come to my house and stamp "Unacceptable Parent" on my front door, I'll just share with you that February makes me seasonally blue. Blue/grey. Mostly grey.


(WHY do I like the idea of painting a boy's nursery grey??? It would be eternal February in there! Have I gone insane??)

I have some Life Rules for February that I made up way back in '02 when I began my first "real world" job:
1. Don't ever quit your job (or give notice to quit your job) in February.
2. Don't ever make any other major life decisions in February.

That's it, really. Just don't quit. And don't change. In Feburary.

I hope I've been of inspiration to you. HA.
If I didn't succeed, you can check this out. If the sun ever comes out again, I'm thinking of having a (wading) pool party, temperature to be unregarded. You're invited.

And lest I forget...NieNie has promised that she'll carry on if I will. Maybe my antiFebruary problems aren't so bad after all...

Recipe Rant

Don't worry guys. I'm still here. It's so hard to remember to write about everyday things when this massive life change is taking place in the background--anybody with me? I keep waiting for "the next big step" to happen so I can tell you all about it. But this blog wasn't created to update you on my adoption. It's all about ME. So you'll just have to deal. Muahahaha.

I'm going old school today with a classic Jesse rant regarding recipes posted on the internet. Ok, let's say you're in the mood for a new chili recipe. You go on over to your old friends at allrecipes.com and have a little looksey. Bam--there it is. Best rated recipe by 523 people. If you're like me you always check out the comments--you can find valuable information like whether it's better if made the day before, if you can alter the instructions to make it in the crock pot, if you can freeze and then reheat, you get the picture. This is where my rant begins...

What is the deal with people that give the recipe 5 stars and say, "I absolutely loved this recipe..." and then continue in their comment to explain all the ways they changed the recipe. It's one thing to say "if you like your chili spicy, you can add a little extra Tabasco." (Except, duh--everyone knows that.) Or "I browned my beef before putting it in the crock pot because that makes it more flavorful." But it's an entirely different matter to say, "I substituted the ground beef for these three types of beans; instead of these 5 spices, I used these other 5 spices; I added 4 extra vegetables; And instead of canned tomatoes, I used pineapple juice." What the what? There is no way "you loved the recipe" if you changed everything about it.

Also, say this recipe had a "secret ingredient." I'll use the picture to the left as an example--this Cincinnati chili had unsweetened chocolate in it's recipe. It's the ingredient that when you taste the chili, you say "what is that fabulous taste that I can't seem to recognize??" For many dishes, true greatness has been solely linked to the secret ingredient factor. Well, the second person who commented on this recipe just blatantly omitted the chocolate. Because she wanted to. And then commented on how great the chili was. Even though she made it without the secret ingredient or BEANS. (I mean who makes chili without ANY beans?? Who are you, lady??) Note: Please do not comment on this post to tell me about the bean-less chili that you make and love.

It's fine and well if you want to alter a recipe to fit your preferences and lifestyle. But I believe this disqualifies you from commenting on the recipe--because you DON'T KNOW what the real recipe tastes like. You might as well just create your own recipe with your new alterations on which people can comment.

The disdain in this post is not coming from personal experience, for all of you wondering who dissed my recipe on the internet. (Ha.) It's just a cooking peeve that I've bottled up for a good long while. I would like to note that this practice of changing the entire recipe and then commenting on it is prevalent throughout the internet--Martha Stewart, Giada, Rachael Ray, and the honorable Missus Pioneer Woman...they all suffer from the recipe-changer-commenters. (Speaking of the honorable missus, another secret ingredient example: All the people who just left the coffee out of maple icing on PW's Cinnamon Rolls "because they don't like coffee." Just try it, people! The icing didn't even taste like coffee, and you missed out on a goooood thing. But even if you're not going to try it, don't post on her blog and tell her, because you sound lame.)

It's not like I post on other people's blogs and say things like "I completely agree with you, Sally. That dress is adorable on your little girl. Except I hate dresses. And I hate your little girl. So I really mean that I love the way my dog looks in a tutu." Or: "Decorating Diva, I was so enamored by your refinished toy chest that I decided to take on your project myself. Except instead of refinishing a toy chest, I used a couch. And instead of refinishing it, I reupholstered it."

Whew. It feels good to let that out. Now, I'm going to go make some coffee. But instead of using coffee grounds, I'm going to use a tea bag.

A Rant Regarding Copycats

Here is something I've been thinking about recently...
I hate being a copycat.

If you know me, then you know this. I hesitate to copy people, and I hate when people copy me. (There are exceptions to this, friends, so don't start second-guessing yourselves!) I like to be original.

(This reminds me of ye ole' college days when Ashley and I would scurry in competition to find the coolest original decorating idea for our separate apartments/duplexes. All these years later, you win, my friend...by a landslide!)

So our recent decision to adopt has been problematic for my ego. Because we have dear friends who have adopted. From Ethiopia. Any mutual friends between us hear of our exciting news and say/think, "Oh, like the Rays!" or "Oh, you're getting 'your own Sophie!' "

International adoption is apparently all the rage in Hollywood, so we get a lot of "Oh, like Angelina!" or "Oh, like Madonna!" etc.

Women my age identify with giving birth. (Want to start excited chatter among a group of women? Just start asking what the birth of their children was like.) But adoption...well, it's a stretch to connect with adoption. So we get a lot of "Oh, like my second cousin once removed adopted!"

I know in my head that people are just trying to connect...to find a way to be excited or knowledgeable. But inside my (prideful) heart, I am thinking, "No, we are doing something that we decided to do ourselves, separate from other people we know about!" And then I just get belligerent and irrational, "WE ARE DOING SOMETHING BRAND NEW THAT'S NEVER BEEN DONE BEFORE!" Deep breaths.

Here's the deep-down reason why I think it bothers me: It takes away the excitement of the news. Let's say my friend Sally tells me she's pregnant. Do I respond by exclaiming, "Oh, just like your sister Betty was!" or "Jennifer Garner was pregnant a few years ago!" or "My friend's cousin did that!"

No one considers pregnant women as "copying" other pregnant women (in general). And in general, no one really voices their concern over someone getting pregnant: "Well, you know Betty's child turned out to be a little terror. I hope Sally can handle this."

I just want to be treated as an original, like everyone else.

But then again, there is nothing new under the sun. And if you really think about it, our lives are all about being copycats...our houses look like knock-offs of our favorite home decor stores. Our clothes look like the catalogs of our favorite designers. Our speech is the same dialect of the region in which we live. And if there is Someone we should really be known for copying...well, you know where this is going...

This journey has been teaching me:
(1) When I encounter someone else's experience, I should respond to it (with joy or sadness) "as is," without trying to tether myself to the situation in some way with my own experiences.
(2) If I am compared to anyone in this life, I hope ultimately it is to my Father, who adopted me as his daughter and loves me perfectly.

If You Can't Beat 'Em, Try to Change Their Minds...

I'll be the first one to say that Christmas is my favorite holiday.
I'm no Scrooge.
However, I think we have some hurry-sickness in today's Ameircan culture that is displaying itself in the form of skipping holidays. No, it's not Christmas-time, Target--Thanksgiving comes first. And while some people may hate that holiday because getting stuff isn't involved and it seems kind of boring, it happens to still exist. We don't decorate for Christmas in our house until Thanksgiving has passed. And that's the way it is. (And we could all do a little better looking forward to the holiday that celebrates being grateful, don't you think?)

But this leads me to my larger beef with Christmas. I won't even get started with the more serious sicknesses America has linked with this holiday. I'll let the video speak for itself...



What do you think about this? I'm 100% on board--who's with me?
(For more information on the Advent Conspiracy, visit their website here.)

Conspiracy Theory

Boy oh boy, do I love shopping at Target.
Not only is there one right across the street from my neighborhood, but there is a beefed up brand-new Target just five minutes down the road. And by "beefed up," I mean: Not a SuperTarget, but almost. (Larger than a regular Target, better selection, and with an extended grocery section that is good enough for my pantry, fridge, and frozen items.)

Each week, I hit up the East Memphis Target (which my husband refers to as Poplar Target, because he thinks the Colonial Target should be East Memphis Target) and then supplement my produce needs at good ole' Easy Way Produce Store on the way home.

The only thing I do not like about this system is Target's Market Pantry (cheaper brand) milk.

Every time I buy Market Pantry 1% milk, it has a funny taste. And I mean, break the seal, pop off the cap, pour the first glass...funny taste. The milk tastes like it's been sitting in the fridge just a little too long...not bad, but just "off."

As a result, I began buying the more expensive (by $1) Archer Farms organic 1% milk. Oh my goodness, that milk is SO GOOD. It's so creamy I constantly think I bought the wrong percentage, and it tastes deliciously fresh. And I think it's a conspiracy.

Target, I would like to call you out for adding "Weird Taste" concentrate to your Market Pantry milk. It's just not fair that I have to shell out the big bucks for some delicious dairy.

What about you guys? What is your favorite brand of milk, and what is the brand you avoid at all costs?

Why the 'Bucks is Worth the Bucks

Sure, Mickey D's has some great brewed coffee. They can even add cream and sugar if requested. But there is no substitute for Starbucks.

There was some hype a few years ago about how McDonald's had "the best coffee." Ok, whatever. It's not bad, I've had it, and after the non-eco-friendly styrofoam cup has allowed the coffee to cool to an acceptable drinking temperature (which would be 5 hours later), it's a nice way to wake up in the morning. I make the same thing at home, arguably better. Some fresh ground beans, filtered water, organic half & half, and ahhhhh.

Here's why I'm willing to spend $18 for a cup of Starbucks. Because it's not just a cup of coffee. It's a short, toffee nut, soy latte. Or today, it is the much-awaited fall tradition of a short, pumpkin spice, soy latte. With whip, baby.

McD's tried. "Watch out, Starbucks!" everyone exclaimed, when the McDonald's Empire announced the addition of lattes, cappuccinos, and mochas to their menu. What everyone failed to realize is that there only a handful of people who want a straight-up, unaltered cappuccino. It's the special request--nonfat, extra hot, this with this but not that--that makes a truly purchase-worthy cup of "coffee." On one occasion, I tried to order an "iced hazelnut latte" at a McDonald's drive-thru, and I was met with garbled confusion. What they ended up doing was putting ice in a steaming hot black coffee. Wha?

This is also the reason that S'bux has hooked me instead of locally-owned coffee shops. I love their charisma. I love their charm. I love their local-ness. But I LOVE Starbucks' syrups--there is no substitute. Toffee Nut is NOT Caramel. It just doesn't translate. It reminds me of a childhood memory in which my dad grilled these awesome, fat, juicy burgers and I turned up my nose, saying, "But Dad, it doesn't look like McDonalds." (See? McD's has some specialties--just not specialty coffee.)

Then there is also the issue of making the world a better place. McDonalds has perhaps turned from the error of their ways...slightly. But are their cups 100% reusable or recyclable? Can buying a cup of their coffee also purchase medicine for someone with HIV/AIDS in Africa? Is their coffee "responsibly grown & ethically traded?"

(Have I mentioned that Starbucks has been listed as one of the best corporations to work for in America?)

Starbucks, you may be a mass chain who is taking over the world. But I don't mind so much, because I truly love you.

Check out these Starbucks faves:

I am all about the Starbucks (RED) products! I've used their (RED) card since last December--what a simple yet awesome idea that purchasing something you were already going to purchase means that you get to help someone else?

Their (RED) edition coffee is also quite tasty--a blend from Rwanda & Ethiopia!




This is the catalyst for today's post/rant.

Today is the first day of fall--perhaps not on the calendar, but indeed in Starbucks. Today is the first day they serve Pumpkin Spice Lattes!

Oh my, this pumpkiny, spicy goodness makes me feel gloriously in love with autumn. Bring on the sweet potato pancakes and the butternut squash soup! And the chili--ohhh, the chili!



I have the "tall" version of this tumbler, purchased for me by "Santa" for my stocking. (Thanks, Saint Nick!) Not only do they gladly put my coffee-drink of choice into this tumbler for me, but they also give me a small discount for doing so!

I have a cold-drink reusable cup purchased from the 'Bucks this past summer--it looks just like the plastic cups they put frapuccinos and iced coffee in, only it is thick, double insulated plastic, including a green, thick plastic straw. Love. It.

Judging a Book by It's...

So I am behind (again) on updates. In the meantime, I have a little rant to share.

I'm pretty sure I'm not alone in this...
I can't stand reading books (that have been turned into movies) that have the movie poster on the cover. Are ya with me?

The day after my birthday, I received a lovely gift from the City of Memphis--an invitation to an exclusive party next week...called Jury Duty. Joy of joys. Actually, I was secretly a bit excited--I mean, I'm in the club now.

Everyone under the sun says, "Bring a good book." So off I went, to the library in search of the one long book I've been saving for such a time as this: "The Time Traveler's Wife." I almost checked it out six months ago, but it was so long and I knew I'd never finish it in time. But now...perfect. Alas, it was checked out.

On to Target, where it was on sale on an endcap. Except...no copies left.

On to the other Target, where it was sold out as well. The nice man with the scanner gun told me it was sold out of all Memphis Targets. Bummer.

By now, I'm committed. I must read this book during Jury Duty. I will pay (gasp) bookstore price. Davis Kidd. Browsing the tables, browsing the Fiction section. Asking the man at the information booth, following him through the Romance and Science Fiction sections. He finally looks it up on the computer. "Ahhhh, we're sold out. But we should get more copies in a few days. I think they're changing the front cover since the movie's about to come out."

Noooooo....! NOT THE MOVIE COVER!

I feel like reading a book with a movie cover makes you seem less legit. Like it wouldn't have dawned on you to read the book unless you'd seen the movie or known it was coming out. Like you really just thought Rachel McAdams looked pretty in the picture and thought, "Eh, I'll read that."

I want the original cover. The cover that says, "I like books, and I owned this before it was cool."

And isn't the book ALWAYS so much better than the movie? I don't want my book cover to be marred by the lesser equal. Give me the original, man!

I called Bookstar, and the nice man told me that they had one copy left of "The Time Traveler's Wife" and he would hold it for me. I drove over, paid for the book, pulled it out of the bag, and...

Original cover.
Yessssss....
With a silver medallion printed in the corner that said, "Now a major motion picture!"
Ok, whatever. I'll take what I can get.

Yeah, Yea, Yay

In the spirit of the greatest Facebook group known to man, "You're vs. Your: I Know the Difference" (325 members strong!), I would like to briefly clear up a common spelling mistake that seems to be a pet peeve of mine.

Yeah: This word is pronounced exactly as it's spelled. Y-eee-ahh (or aaa). This is NOT the word that means "hooray!" This IS the word that means "yes."

(And let it be noted, that it should not be used by children in the South, especially when speaking to their teachers. I found this out the hard way in 6th grade immediately after moving from New York, and the consequence was staying in from recess. Let it also be noted that I was never allowed to say "Yes, ma'am" to my Yankee mother because she thought it meant I was "sassing" her.)

Yea: Again, this word is pronounced exactly as it's spelled. Y-eee-A. Like the word above, this word can also mean yes, but in an old-school way. ("Yea or nay.") This word can also occasionally mean "hooray!" Yea!

Yay: In my opinion, this is the correct spelling for the word that means "hooray." Yay!

Now that we are all in the same page, I better not be catching anyone saying "Yeah!" in less they are truly meaning to say "Oh yeah!" Again, no hooray-ing unless it is the word "Yea!" or more appropriately, "Yay!"

Yay! I'm glad I got that off of my chest! Yeah, I know I'm a weirdo.

Death & Taxes...& Auto Repair

Yes, all of the above are inevitable, my friends.  Each year of our marriage, just after we've received our tax refund, something has happened to one of our cars.  Let's view the history, shall we?

2006 - New brakes for the Camry

2007 - New tires for the Camry (after we got 2 flats in the same night)

2008 - New tires for the Explorer (after a flat)

2009 - Ah, 2009.  We joked that Gordita (Camry) or Gordon (Explorer) (each named seperately before we knew each other--weird, right?) might try to pull something on us.  We gave Gordita extensive lectures of how we are saving our money this year and she will just have to wait until next year to bust out a new surprise on us.  (As she is a repeat offender.)

The week we received our check, the inevitable occurred.  Gordita developed a crack that started growing at lightning speed from the left corner of the windshield.  We took her in, got the windshield replaced.  Eh, it could have been worse, right?

Observe Exhibit A & B below...

A week after getting Gordita's windshield replaced, I jumped in the Explorer to meet Nick for dinner after work.  I had been running errands in Gordon just an hour earlier, had come home to finish up some work, and I was heading out again.  Nothing out of the ordinary occurred during the errand-running.  Nothing hit the windshield, no huge potholes, nothing.  An hour later...the above picture on top (minus 2 inches).  A 10-inch crack in an hour?  Out of nowhere?  A week after the same thing happened in our other car?  Are you kidding me?  

The 2nd picture is from today (about a week later).  Luckily, the original massively-growing crack has now only grown about 4 inches in a week.  However, the windshield will eventually need to be replaced.  And this means that instead of taking turns, our vehicles ganged up on us this year.  

Not cool, guys.  Not cool at all.  

I know, on the bright side, that I can count some lucky stars.  At least the repairs became necessary just after we received a chunk of money.  At least the repairs have been less costly than other larger problems--I mean, both of our cars are 12 years old, and the costly repairs we're paying for are new tires and new windshields?  The transmissions are still hangin' in there, knock on wood!  

Just because things are inevitable doesn't make them any less of a bummer.  But alas, at least our automobiles are predictable.  Kind of.  

The Worst Birth Day

Now, I know all of you near-Christmas-birthday folks are going to give me some backlash to for this next statement, but...

My husband has the worst birth day ever.  

Nick was born on the day after Valentine's Day.  What is so bad about that, you might wonder?  Well, I'll tell you...

First, let me say that I am surprised that I like Valentine's Day.  I do not support the explosion of commercialism and a holiday created for that very purpose.  Yes, it is strange that Valentine's Day is so huge on the holiday list, yet the mail doesn't cease to be delivered and nothing closes.  However, Nick is my first boyfriend and my first love.  Therefore, I had 24 consecutive Valentine's Days where my roommates and friends were wooed and received flowers and balloons and stuffed animals.  Not so fun.  But these past 5 Valentine's Days of wooing and celebration of love?  Fabulous.  So, I am a fan now.  I can't help it.  

What I am NOT a fan of is the fact that everyone buys EVERYTHING in preparation of this holiday.  Any good birthday gift for Nick is bound to be sold out.  For some reason, chocolate and flowers are not enough anymore.  Any good gift under the sun is in high demand for February 14.  So those trying to celebrate something more important on February 15 are left to fend for ourselves.  

And the consumption doesn't stop there.  It's not enough to get your sweetheart a gift.  Apparently you must buy up ALL THE FOOD IN TOWN.  Making the preparation of a special birthday meal next to impossible.  

The worst of all?  Birthday cake.  Essential for celebrating another year of your life, oui?  Sold out.  SOLD OUT, I tell you.  I went to our favorite bakery on Monday or Tuesday of last week and tried to make a cake order.  I figured I was waaaay early because they only require 24 hours advance notice and here I was a whopping 120 hours early.  Booked.  What?  They were all booked.  No more cakes to be made.  But whyyyy, I thought?  This is crazy!  They can not make me a cake 5 days from now!  Whyyyyy?  Ahhhhh...Valentine's Day.  The holiday where not only do you buy your love the best gift ever, but you buy all the food in the grocery store to make the best meal ever, and then you buy all the cakes in town to end the perfect holiday of all holidays.  (And don't even try buying ingredients to make a cake--those are sold out as well.)

Sigh.  

What a strange holiday that requires basically all of the same exact elements of a birthday--it's like everyone celebrating everyone else's birthday on the same day.  I had never realized it until I married The Man with the Worst Birth Day Ever.

Epilogue: I know how to make lemonade out of lemons, people.  

What do you do when all of the gifts, cakes, and dinner ingredients are sold out?  

You give a more meaningful gift that doesn't require a purchase (who needs "stuff" anyways), you get cupcakes instead of cake (why are they able to make 2 dozen cupcakes instead of 1 cake?  Beats me!), and you make a trio of grilled cheeses for dinner since everyone else is making steak !

For foodies who are curious: 

1. feta, olive tapinade, and spinach stuffed in a pita with mozzarella melted over the top, served with a tzatziki sauce

2. buttermilk blue cheese, tallegia, thinly sliced granny smith apple, and whole grain mustard melted on texas toast

3. pepperjack cheese melted on blue corn tortillas and served with fresh salsa

(Thanks, Bob, for the first 2 suggestions!)

And for the record, although my man may have an unfortunate day of birth, he is WELL worth the hassle and his wonderful qualities make up for it in many other ways!

Get Off the Phone and DRIVE

New pet peeve and it peeves me to no end:

Talking on a mobile phone while driving.  

I admittedly am hypocritical at times regarding this peeve.  I, myself, have and occasionally do talk on the phone while driving.  I tell myself that I am exceptional at this skill, although I recognize in reality that I am not. 

(I would like to note that I found this picture on Flickr--it is not taken by or of myself.  Translation: I do not have man-hands/arms, nor am I still dressing myself in shirts from 1992.)

Phone drivers are in abundance.  In fact, I would wager that most anyone reading this blog has and may continue to engage in this act.  But phone drivers are ALWAYS, and I am not exaggerating, ALWAYS the cause of my frustration on the road.  When someone is driving too fast, too slow, cuts in front, leaves their blinker on, fails to use their blinker, almost runs into other cars...you get the picture...all of these people are not talking on their phones, BUT all people talking on their phones are the perpetrators of these acts.  

Mothers in Suburbans/Minivans (Newsflash: Driving a Suburban is just as "mommyish" as driving a Minivan.  Do you think you look cooler with your 3 soccer ball stickers with each kid's name on your Suburban?).  Businessmen in shiny sedans.  Teens in newcarthattheywillwreckwithin2months.  They are all offenders.  

People, I beg you, it is time to get off the phone and drive!  

This is not impossible.  10 years ago, most people had to pull over to the side of the road to use a pay phone to talk to another human being.  (Either that or pull over so they could use both hands to lug their giant Zac-Morris-phone out of their bags.)  We got by just fine back then, didn't we?  

Solution?  If someone calls you while you are driving, DON'T ANSWER.  I realize this is absurd for people who are so addicted to either their mobile phones or to people/approval or to their jobs--these people would never dream of NOT ANSWERING a call.  But it is possible.  After all, this is what used to happen when you weren't home and someone called your landline.  (Why do those still exist, by the way?)  As soon as you get to your destination (or if it's an emergency, as soon as you pull over to the side of the road), you may chat to your heart's delight.  But while you are driving in front of, beside of, or behind me, please issue the courtesy of...driving.

I am giving the same challenge to myself. 

Don't even get me started on people who order at the drive-thru while talking on their phones, people who interact with cashiers inside a store while talking on their phones, or people who sit in restaurants/coffee shops/airplanes yapping away, unaware of the disturbance of peace to those around them.  

I love technology.  I love gadgets.  But I do not love the monstrous way they turn us into absent-minded, inconsiderate people.  We would all do well to be a little more aware and "present" in our surroundings.  Amen and amen.