I’m sitting on something that’s big. Really big. But I can’t talk about it, so we’ll go with a tiny announcement I can share.
When I get back from Paris I’m going to enlist a little help to spruce up my website. You know, make it look decent and less slapped together. When that happens, I’ll do some giveaways, ask some really cool people to come by and blog a bit and give away cool shit I get while in Paris. Neat, huh?
So, stay tuned. But not like 24/7, I’m in France! Well, when this goes up I’ll be headed to the airport to go to France, but you get the idea!
Yup, I did! Go friend me or whatever it is you do there.
My Mamaw passed away Monday afternoon. We’re doing the viewing today and the funeral tomorrow. I’m going to miss her. See everyone Friday when I get back.
Happy 4th of July
Don’t burn your house down.
I have an admission. I like to color within the lines. I like rules. They tell me what I can do, and I have an idea of what I can get away with in the right circumstances. I firmly believe that rules are often in place for a reason. To keep you from getting hurt, for example. A life without rules sounds dreamy but in practice is impractical.
One thing I fudge a lot just like everyone else is obeying speed limits. But again there’s a time to fudge it and a time to follow it. The highway? Dude, get out of my way! On my way to work? Hell no.
My commute takes me through residential areas and as a consequence there is a school that I pass through. I don’t speed through school zones. You know why? Because kids haven’t learned the rules yet. They don’t know to look in both directions, they run headlong into trouble and I don’t want to be the motorist who hits and kills a kid. Now it’s summer and the majority of schools are out, except the one I drive by. I’m assuming they have summer classes in session since there is light traffic in the mornings going in and the lights are still flashing.
It annoys me when drivers ignore the flashing school zone lights. I really wish there was a cop who would give their ass a ticket.
This morning, as I’m pulling through the intersection at the school, a cop pulls up at the stop sign. I wasn’t worried for myself but I was amused since two cars had gunned it through the school zone ahead of me. The cop turns to follow the same path I did – and blazed by me. Didn’t even pretend there was a normal speed limit of 35, much less the school zone limit of 20. The cop didn’t have his lights on and he appeared to be driving without purpose.
Maybe it’s me, but those lights flash for a reason and even cops should obey them. I was tempted to write down his license plate number or something but didn’t have the means to do it. Does that make me a bitch? Possibly, but when I think about my childhood best friend who was hit by someone, I’m only with being a bitch.
The idea of becoming a mother terrifies me. There’s a huge amount of responsibility that comes with children, but also the unconditional love of a person you made. It’s something that in years to come, I hope to experience – but not today, this year or next. I’m not ready for that. I can take care of a pet just fine, but I have serious reservations when it comes to a little person. Plus its not something I want to do alone. That’s getting into a whole other topic. Let’s refocus!
Last night I went on a brief shopping trip to Target. I needed a belt and since I was there I couldn’t pass up looking around. It’s friggen Target people! I grab a bunch of stuff and go to the dressing room. There was an adorable little girl, probably 2 or 3 years old. Keep in mind my ability to gauge children’s ages is really bad, all I know was that she was little and clearly not potty trained well enough. She was out playing by the attendant. No parent in sight. I was concerned but since the attendant was smiling and acknowledging the child I decided to mind my own business.
Unknowingly I picked the dressing room next to the child’s mother, who had at least one other friend in the dressing room with her. I don’t like to make judgements of people, but I wasn’t impressed with these individuals. A few minutes go by and the child comes into the dressing area, bangs on the door until her mother opens the door for her and proceeds to announce that she must pee. Mother and friend laugh about this. Child states again that she must pee – now and that she will pee in her pants. Mother continues to ignore this.
I thought this was irresponsible, but of course every rational parent will take care of their child.
Or so I thought.
The next thing I hear is the unmistakable sound of peeing, liquid splattering on that thin carpet covering concrete that’s just rough concrete.
I froze and thought that I had to be hearing things and waited – but no – the kid really was peeing.
The mother and friend laughed and giggled and never once reprimanded the child. They even stated that they were going to sneak out of the dressing room without telling the attendant.
I was pissed. That child needs a mother who is a mom. Just because you’re a teenage/early 20’s mom doesn’t mean that you have an excuse to be a bad parent. Sure you get some leniency but letting your child pee in a dressing room? That’s unacceptable. Also, it’s gross. Bad parenting creates problems for children. My parents were of the school that crying was not allowed. They weren’t emotionally extroverted parents. I have issues with communicating my feelings. But at least my parents taught me responsibility. I can get over my emotional constipation on my own. Do the world a favor, if you have kids, be a parent. That’s what they need.* for the record, I did tell the attendant what had happened so she could at least call someone in to clean it up