Why do they godda be like that?

I’m in that half-awake, half-asleep mode before the coffee has hit the bloodstream and the dreams have faded entirely. Geoff laughed at me this morning before he left for work, because I was grouchy when he tried to rouse me (as I had made him promise to try and do so I can get a head start on cramming today). I have a final tomorrow that I’m wholly unprepared for. It’s C Lit 440, and it’s all advanced lit theory in relation to popular culture. Damn you, Lacan! I thought I was through with you and your mirror phase!
Lit theory is pervading every pore of my life. Last night, Geoff and I were cuddled up in bed, and I started talking about the Freudian differences between men and women, and we wound up talking about infantile breastfeeding, and the long term sociological ramifications. Talk about a mood killer! What was I thinking? I even knew that it was a bad idea as I brought it up, but I objectively identified the wrong thing to say, and said it anyway. I guess Geoff is rubbing off on me. The funny thing is, Geoff didn’t even hesitate to get into the conversation. There isn’t really a lot of topics that we shy away from. (*WARNING: ABOUT TO GET REALLY DISGUSTING*) Including Tom Cruise eating Katie Holmes’s placenta after she gave birth to his child. I don’t often talk about celebrity dirt on this blog, but this couple continues to just blow my mind. I always saw K Homes as a sweet young chick that was on a teeny-bopper show. What is she doing with this placenta-eating, Scientology-practicing, couch-abusing freak of nature?? And why does she always look like a mother possum when she’s in public with him? You don’t have to cling, honey. He’s not exactly the catch he was in the 1980’s. You know, before he went public with his abundance of crazy. Tome Cruise makes me shutter.
Moving right along. I had an altercation with a woman in the Sherwood Park Mall parking lot yesterday. On the way to the mall, on WYE ROAD, This nutso woman just about steered her big-assed Land Rover into my itty bitty Escort because she was too retarded to check her mirrors AND shoulder before she lane changed. I lightly tapped on my horn-an unusual Keltie move in traffic. I think I’ve used my horn three times in my entire life, because I think its rude to lean on it and curse at other drivers. Anyway, it was this “yo lady, I’m right here, don’t hit me” beep. She swerved out of my lane, pulled up beside me, and started screaming and flipping me off!!! I smirked at her, and proceeded to turn up my music and ignore her. She started to tailgate me, and I made this choice: “I’m a student driving a ’96 Escort, and you are a rich Sherwood Park whore driving a 2006 land yacht. I’m in a wicked enough mood to get rear-ended and make you pay.” I tapped on my breaks, and sure enough, she damn near hit me (witnesses galore. People are now looking over at this psycho lady, who is STILL screaming inside her car and flipping me off). Anywhoo, she took off down the road doing at LEAST 80 in a 60 zone, because I was doing exactly 60 and she shot past me. Get this: her 12 year-old daughter flipped me off, too. Lovely.
I watched her get trapped behind two slower cars, and then run through a yellow light as it turned red. Like, it turned red as soon as the nose of her car hit the intersection. Anyway, I don’t understand the psychics of it, but I guess she was headed towards the mall. I got there as she and her kid were walking towards the door. We saw each other at the same time, and she came up to me just screaming her head off about what a “fucking cunt driver” I am, and how I deserved to be shot for cutting her off. Excuse me? I was in the same lane the whole time. Anyway, I knew it would piss her off if I played it cool, so I leaned against the door of my car and sipped my coffee, watching her like she was a mildly interesting television program. I let her tucker herself out before I said very quietly and very evenly, “ You sped. You ran a light. You tailgated me, and you encouraged your young daughter to flip me off. You are a worse mother then you are a driver, and that’s saying a lot.” I then waltzed past her, and into the mall ignoring the awful things she was screaming after me. All I wanted to do was start swearing, maybe deck her and her bitchy daughter for good measure. I was shaking when I got to work, and I have come to a single conclusion: I fucking hate Sherwood Park.
Okay kids. I’ve gone through a cup of coffee, and its time to study. A martini night is in order as soon as exams are done. Who’s with me?

Cheers!

K

Quote du jour
“Be gentle with me, Sam!” (Chelsey and I talking about the homosexual overtones in Lord of the Rings)